Stag's Mentor Reassignment Ceremony

With Batbite too sick to keep up with deputyship, it only made sense that she would give up training her apprentice. Somehow, that second fact made Thrushnose’s chest clench more than the first. She chose not to think about it. Her attention was better spent on the task at hand. Stag didn’t need a mentor in the conventional sense—he could clearly fend for himself, and Thrushnose hadn’t heard any whispers about him chafing against the rules and routines of Clan life (though, granted, she’d had no reason to listen until recently)—but if he felt otherwise, who was she to judge?

Anxiety’s rising buzz began in her gut again. Before it could grow to a roar, she crouched and sprang for the back of the Highrock, scrabbling at the stone until she found her balance. She’d done this once; she could do it again. Like anything, it was a matter of practice. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!” she called, tail curled at her side.

Stag raised his half-lidded eyes to the highrock at Thrushnose's call. Things seemed like they were moving so quickly, and the large tom wasn't too sure that he liked it. Within what seemed like just a few days his mentor had grown so ill that she had to both step down from her deputy position as well as give up on training him. Until she recovered he had to be given a new mentor so, like he had for his apprentice ceremony moons ago, he nosed his way into the crowd, waiting for Thrushnose to continue.

Catching sight of Stag in the crowd, she approached the Highrock’s edge. This ceremony was an oddity in more ways than one. The words she’d memorized wouldn’t work; by her best guess, Stag hadn’t been six moons old in seasons. “Just as Batbite’s sickness left us without a deputy, it left one of our apprentices without a mentor.” Was that enough of an introduction? Thrushnose shook out her pelt. “Stag, step forward.”

That Stag had done his best to fit in was undeniable. So had Rainstrike, until her exile. Thrushnose had a certain amount of faith in the younger tom—with Asylum’s claws and eyes backing him, he’d still fought her fairly—but not enough to entrust him to her daughter, her brothers, her less experienced denmates. For her, there was only one choice. Perhaps she’d learn something from him, too. “From this moment on, until the day you earn a warrior’s name, or until Batbite recovers, I will train you.” Ending on that felt curt, even for a ceremony. “…That’s all.” With a swish of her tail, the striped tabby descended the Highrock and padded toward Stag. “We’ll head out after the sun starts to set, if you’re free? I want to know what you’ve learned so far.”

When Thrushnose asked him to step forward, he did so without hesitance. For a moment he looked over his shoulder at the cats that stood behind him, imagining what it would be like to have any one of them as a mentor. Even if he was excited to find out who would mentor him, he hoped that he didn't need one for much longer, surely he would be a warrior soon- he wanted nothing more than that. Focusing once more, he looked up at Thrushnose, his ears flicking as he listened. When she finished speaking, his eyes widened with surprise. "You?" He murmured, his tone unreadable. It wasn't as if he was upset about it, in fact he was quiet happy about being trained by Thrushnose, he was just a little surprised that she had decided to take him as her apprentice. He met his new mentor halfway to the Highrock when he saw her approaching him. He nodded as she spoke, immediately accepting her offer. "That would be great, I look forward to it." He said, his words accompanied by a smile.