Tumblekit's Apprentice Ceremony

Only when the sun had slipped a tree-length from its peak height did Thrushnose approach the Highrock. She’d come to prefer holding meetings before sunhigh for a number of reasons: to avoid the brunt of greenleaf’s heat, to catch most of her Clanmates between patrols, to ensure the ceremony wouldn’t hang over her head all day like a tree half-toppled and splintering. But something told her a morning ceremony wouldn’t work for this particular kit. Bracing her paws against worn footholds, the tabby warrior vaulted onto the stone. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!” Thrushnose usually settled back to watch the crowd as a whole as they appeared, trusting the soon-to-be-apprentice’s pelt would catch her eye sooner or later. Today, though, she fixed her stare on the nursery’s entrance. Tumblekit may not have been a troublemaker like Waterlily’s kits, but if anyone could sleep through their own ceremony, it’d be them.