Badger

Badger is a shaman in training. The pangolin is his familiar.

I did not write this story! The writer of this story is Corvid_Ray #411270. They take writing commissions, and they truly are an amazing writer! Go check out their commissions! Corvid's Commissions

“Good-luck Badger!” Cirrus meowed from the nursery den over the sound of noisy piglets and ragdoll kittens. Badger waved to her and then padded out and around the pride’s camp. Badger was waiting for a sign from his spiritual ancestors; he had been chosen as the pride’s shaman and needed their appearance to make things official.
“Maybe I should try outside the camp,” the young lion muttered to himself and exited the pride grounds through slender leaves and foliage. The day was quiet and the ground was wet after a small shower of rain. A dew drop splashed onto Badger’s nose as he walked around a moss covered tree, making him jump back in surprise.
“Enjoying your walk young one?”
Badger stopped in his tracks and swiveled his head around. A lioness in a nearly transparent and wispy form stood behind him. Badger’s fur ruffled in embarrassment and awe. “Are you-” Badger began to speak, but the lioness held up a paw. “Yes,” She answered, “I am one of the many ancestors from your pride. I have had my eyes on you ever since you were a cub.”
“Then am I really worthy of being a shaman?” Badger questioned in excitement. The lioness tilted her head, “hmmm.” Badger waited stiffly for her answer. “Of Course you are,” the ghostly lioness conceded. Badger sighed in relief and held up his tail in pride.
The lioness eyes began to glow a hazy, white light and she began to chant. Badger had already known that this would happen because shamans from other prides had told him so, but his pelt still crawled with anxiety at the ancient rite. The lioness then stopped chanting and disappeared.
“Huh. OW!” Badger shouted as a prickle of pain shot into his forehead upon the lioness’ departure. He fell to the ground, paws pressed on his head, as his mind was overflowed with herb remedies and spiritual ceremonies.
Suddenly it stopped and Badger was able to open his eyes. Something was nudging his shoulder, so he stumbled to his paws. It was a Pangolin and its scales gleamed like the sun. “Are you my Familiar?” Badger asked, not really expecting an answer.
He gently grabbed the Pangolin with his teeth and hoisted it onto his back as he returned to his Pride. Everyone was waiting for him and cheered as he stepped into their view. Badger reached over his back and put the Pangolin on the floor. “How was it?” Cirrus asked while she looked her son over for any sign of distraught.
“It couldn't have gone any better,” Badger replied as a grin wiggled on his face. He was a true shaman now, well, he was half of a true shaman anyway. He knew that the path of healing was a hard one and could take a toll on one’s spirit.
Dragonfire, the Pride’s king, nodded his head at Badger. “Out of respect for the journey that Badger has set his paws on,” the king began, “we shall feast tonight!” The king then flicked his tail to two adolescent lions to bring forward a bulky zebra carcass.
Badger struggled to contain his happiness as he tucked into the meal.