Shrikekit's Apprentice Ceremony

The chirps of birds echoed in the morning air, a light mist and a faint chill telling of leaf-fall's approach. But as the sun flickered through the trees, faint bubbles of light scattering in oblong shapes across the ground, it started to vanish like the ghosts of bad dreams. The dew on the grass of the clearing coated Minkstream's paws as he padded to the High Rock, past the regular morning bustle of cats, Batbite's purr still in his ears. Yet the shadows lingered - he could see the quiet darkness under the trees out of the corner of his eye as he looked up at the Rock, his hind legs bunching for the leap. It felt cool this time, its surface slightly damp with tiny beaded droplets of water, and he stepped to the edge for the fifth time, calling over the murmuring babble of a new day, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the High Rock!"

Shrikekit bounded from the nursery, her brown tabby pelt reflecting the scattered rays of light. She was waiting for this day for so long. Now, that she was six moons old, it was time for her to become an apprentice. The brown she-cat had seen other cats gain their apprentice name from Minkstream instead of Nettlestar. She didn't know very much about them, except that Nettlestar was the leader and Minkstream was the deputy. She ran towards the clearing, feeling the damp blades of grass tickle her paws. Sitting down near the deputy, Shrikekit waited for him to tell the cats what the meeting was about. Really, she didn't know what the meeting was really about, but she just felt that the meeting was about her apprenticeship. Nothing logical, just... a feeling. Something she had not felt before, ever.

Cedarheart watched her kit bounce of if the nursery, chuckling at her excitement. The way that Shrikekit ran reminded her of her youth, of her apprentice ceremony with Smudgepaw. She remembered being with him, earning their names together. Smudgepaw reminded her of Smallbean, a bit. It was funny how much that showed.

Sitting down near the back of the crowd, she kept her eyes on her kits. They were all getting so old, it seemed like just moments ago they were squirming blobs of fur in the nursery.

Minkstream felt a twitch at the edge of his maw as a bundle of brown tabby fur bounded from the nursery, little flickers of light scattering on her pelt from the early morning sun. He watched as she came to the base of the rock, practically already close enough to have technically stepped forward, but... With a mental shrug, he said it anyway, a hint of amusement in his tone, "Shrikekit, step forward."

When she had, as much as she could without bumping the rock with her nose, he continued on, "You have reached the age of six moons and are ready to learn the ways of the Clan as an apprentice. From this moment until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Shrikepaw." His eyes flicked over the crowd, making sure the white pelt was there. "Your mentor will be Icecloud."

He leapt from the rock, his paws meeting in dewy grass again, the shadows of the trees overhead dancing as a breath of wind pulled at their branches, a glimmer of extra light showing for a moment on the pelt of the cats gathered. Stretching, he glanced around for a familiar pelt. Not a bad start to the day.