Galekit's apprentice ceremony

A slightly overcast sky rested above a canopy of lush green trees. Their leaves full and broad beneath the lighting of clouds and sun as cats milled about beneath the large branches. The slightest chill to the weather didn't seem to affect the cats below as a large dark tabby tom leapt up Highrock with a smile. One of the kits of camp had reached a mature enough age to be considered an apprentice.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath High-rock for a clan meeting!" He yowled, watching as his voice made several cats look towards him. He smiled warmly at a young gray tabby. The curiousity and bravado of the young tom made it clear that he was a bit too mature for the nursery much longer.

It had happened a few times during Galekit’s stay in the nursery. A kit would reach the mythical six moons, there would be a noisy ceremony and a lot of fancy words, and then they would disappear to a new place with their new name. Graykit—er, Graypaw had left not too long ago, and she wasn’t much older than him. Galekit knew his ceremony had to be coming soon. While he wasn’t looking forward to the talking part, and Mosspaw’s revelation that he wouldn’t be able to leave camp unsupervised had taken some of the shine off apprenticeship, he still found himself spending a lot more time than usual staring at the Highrock.

He was already on his paws before Marshstorm opened his mouth, padding toward the Highrock just ahead of the crowd. Sure, Marshstorm might have been about to make a perfectly ordinary announcement—or he might've been about to make Galekit an apprentice. Or retract the rule about apprentices leaving camp alone. Either one worked, really. As he sat, Galekit's ears swiveled forward, making it plain how closely he was paying attention.

"Galekit, step forward." Marshstorm ordered as the cats finished gathering beneath highrock, though to his amusement it seemed unnessecary. The kit was plainly very ready to get started. The way he was staring up hopefully helped as he turned his amber gaze towards the red she-cat he had already determined would be the young grey kit's mentor before his gaze resettled onto the kit.

"Galekit, you have reached the age of six moons. It is now time for you to become an apprentice. From this day on, until you recieve your warrior name, you will be known as Galepaw." He motioned meaningfully for Emberheart to step forward. "Your mentor will be Emberheart." He looked at her solemnly. "Emberheart, I know you have plenty of courage and wisdom to pass on to Galepaw. May your mentorship go well." He looked back at Galepaw with a more cheerful expression. "Congratulations, Galepaw." He meowed before leaping down from Highrock to cheer with the others.

Emberheart stepped forward to touch her nose to her adopted son's, purring softly. "You're going to do great, Galepaw," she whispered, the smile on her face genuine despite her lingering worries. She'd had many apprentices, yes, but few seemed to make it to warriorhood. She'd just have to do all that she could to prevent anything going wrong for Galepaw, she supposed; and wasn't that what she was supposed to do anyway, as his mother and his mentor? "Training starts at dawn," she added, trying to look somewhat stern. Her son or not, he was an apprentice now and she wasn't going to go easy on him.

The next word out of Marshstorm’s mouth wasn’t the start of a rule-change—he’d really been hoping that one would come before his apprenticeship—but it was just as good. His name. One of the last times he’d hear it, more than likely. A confident smile spread across the gray tabby’s face as he approached Marshstorm. Somewhere in the crowd was Emberheart; the (still somewhat small) part of him that had adjusted to having a sister hoped Snowkit was watching, too.

Before he could even wonder how his new name might sound, it was over. He was Galepaw. Forgetting he was part of a ceremony and might not be allowed to look around, Galepaw followed Marshstorm’s gaze to Emberheart. Though she was his family, she was also a warrior—a good warrior, the kind who would train him to be the same. He pressed his nose to hers, grinning wildly. ”You bet I will." The idea of waking up at dawn was...less exciting, but he was Galepaw now. Getting up early was only his first test.

Mosspaw watched from afar, giving the apprentice a nod of encouragement as the ceremony drew to a close. She knew that the tom would do well, and had every faith in his abilities, and Emberheart's as well. Smiling at the pair as she cheered Galepaw's name with the rest of the clan, she looked forward to the next time she would get to hear about his adventures.