Raventail's Elder Ceremony

In the weeks since Dappleshine's retirement, Olivestar could tell that Raventail was going to follow suit sooner or later. When the former leader had come to her expressing his desire to retire, she nodded in understanding and agreed to perform his retirement ceremony. It was the least she could do. As she made her way up to the to of the Tallrock via the familiar path under her paws, the cold breeze blew her fur the wrong way, and she suppressed a shiver. With leaf-fall about to make way for leaf-bare, she could imagine how the cold would play havoc with an older cats' joints, and she understood why he'd chosen to retire now.

She suppressed another shiver as the cold wind blew directly in her face, and her usual moment to admire the landscape and her Clanmates was cut short as she yowled the familiar summons.
"May all cats old enough to run the moor gather beneath the Tallrock!"

The same fear that settled in Raventail’s stomach with every first thaw had taken root when he’d woken up to a coating of snow on his thick fur. Last leaf-bare had taken so much from him. Both of his daughters, still kittens, and Dacedream not long after; then Barleytuft, Finchstar, and the last strands of trust he might have ever had in StarClan. He himself had been brought down by greencough, then. These days, he was…not quite old yet, but older. Old enough to remember Barleytuft wasting away in the medicine den. No matter how guilt snarled at him for having the gall to retire when the scent of crisis floated on the wind, he couldn’t bring himself to regret this. An elder could still stand guard near the nursery. He could still keep an eye on his only living daughter as she ducked in and out of camp, swept into the routine most near-warriors held. Best of all, he’d be sharing a nest with Dappleshine again.

Besides, he thought, a weary smile on his graying muzzle, they can’t keep me in camp, elder or not. The agility for which he’d been named hadn’t completely deserted him yet.

He had only just settled near the fresh-kill pile when Olivestar's form appeared at the Tallrock's peak. Making his way toward the front of the crowd, where Dappleshine and Fogpaw would see him easiest, Raventail seated himself and turned his nose to his leader. Another gust of frigid wind howled above; he grimaced in sympathy. As inconvenient as long fur could be, it’d served him well whenever he’d had to call a meeting in leaf-bare.

As the Clan gathered below her, Raventail among them, she met the aging warrior's eye, and gave him a small smile, fidgeting a little to try and keep her paws from freezing to the rock. Eager to get the ceremony done so that she could escape the cold wind howling around her, she continued with the ceremony.
"Raventail, is it your wish to give up the rank of a warrior and go to join the elders?"

He’d been expecting it—given how recently he and Olivestar had talked, this ceremony couldn’t be about anyone else—but Raventail’s ears twitched at the sound of his name anyway. How long had it been since he’d heard it from beneath the Tallrock? He stepped forward, swaying slightly. Though the boiling greenleaf had been difficult and leaf-bare was always a struggle…WindClan would be at peace again. Even now, he could see those days on the horizon. Once the kits were found and the snow melted to nothing, he’d have a life with no expectations. No obligations, save for the ones he chose for himself. Terrifying as that emptiness was, he was eager to see how he’d fill it. Raventail let out a measured breath, closed his eyes, and nodded once. “It is.”

There weren't any words in response to the question, but Olivestar caught his simple nod, and continued speaking, her smile never wavering. Still shuffling her paws to dispel the cold a little, she spoke once more.
"Then WindClan honors you and all you have done for our Clan. I call upon our Clanmates, so that you may have the many moons of rest that you've more than earned."

At first, the words were stones on his shoulders; then they were gentle as snow. The life he knew was over. It was over, and like he had as an apprentice, as a warrior, as deputy and leader, he would someday, somehow, stumble into a new one. Raventail’s voice had been steady when he’d spoken to Olivestar in her den and during the ceremony itself. However, as he murmured, “Thanks, Olivestar,” it wavered ever so slightly. There was neither time nor any need to linger on it, not with brighter days ahead and a nest to move before sunset. The fluffy tom gave himself a firm shake and stepped back, away from the Tallrock.