Ashpaw's Warrior Ceremony

Downy blankets of freshly-dusted snowfall sprawled across the slumbering territories, besieging the lands with an odd sense of irrefutable cleanliness, despite the muddled mess the snow and ice often became when crawling across the precarious earth of the riversides. Decaying undergrowth and foliage wilted further under the unnecessary strain provided by the weight of snow and frost, leaving nothing but the stark white corpse of the forest lingering in the former presence of lushness. Ears and nose aflame with the scorching brush of one of the first snowfalls of the cruel season that was lingering just beyond their reaches, Jaystar's fine features creased softly as he peered from his newly-raised seat atop the ceremonial willow tree that had been held by so many of his kin. Idling as though he was nothing more than a ghostly outline against the snowy backdrop of the late hour, the newly-christened leader shifted restlessly atop the frost kissed willow branch.

"All cats old enough to catch their own fish, gather beneath the Willow Branch for a Clan meeting!" Though it was not his first attempt at governing a ceremony since the inheritance of his newfound name, this would be the first held in accordance with an estranged family member.

Ashpaw emerged from the apprentice's den, smiling as he gently brushed past the leaves guarding the entrance for the last time.  He had spent much of his life within it's comforting walls, but today he would be moving on to a new place, and a new name.  Of all the titles he had donned within his life - Ash, Ashpaw, Duran - this would be the one he carried with him for the rest of his days.  The rest had always been temporary, each carrying memories from his past.  Ash had been born an innocent little barn kitten, whose only concern had been playing with his siblings and watching his parents work as herbalists.  Ashpaw was a bit more worn down and wise of the world's ways, but within him had burned a strong fire, loyalty, and passion that he would carry with him for the rest of his days.  Duran was a black spot, a pest he wanted to be rid of, but would always live in the dark of his mind.  The tom hid behind a black fox pelt while his family was terrorized by cats he had only followed for survival, which would never be him again.  Starting today, he would be a warrior of RiverClan, and when he thought about that future he felt only contentment.  This is where he belonged now, and always would be.

Approaching the willow tree and seating himself near the front of the crowd, Ashpaw gazed up at Jaystar patiently, but a hint of curiosity lingered in his green eyes.  It was hard to believe that this new leader was his younger brother, the little kitten who used to follow at his heels when he visited the nursery.  It wouldn't do for them to be distant like this forever, and Ashpaw turned his neutral expression into a friendly smile he hoped the dark-pelted tom would see.  Soon enough, he would find a way to rekindle their connection, not just as immature siblings but as warriors, clanmates working towards a common goal of rebuilding RiverClan to its former glory.  He was ready to take on that task.

Smooth jut of the shoulder roiling sharply under the wild mane of his unkempt coat, Jaystar's slow movements atop the weighted perch of the forked tree-limb were liquid and silky, fluent with the seemingly innate grace of a shadow, gentle movements twisting and writhing against the cold backdrop of the evening. Pointed chin lifting in a casual, calloused invitation to all of the curious onlookers currently peering on with mirrored expressions of idle interest, the young tom standing before him had an obvious expression of belated interest, an outcry of carefully concealed emotion seething low in the occasional flick of his rich gaze. Jaystar's discomfort, ever stashed away beneath the usual front of aloof disinterest, felt validated with the realization that many others were just as uncertain with the unfolding events; the promise of a somewhat joyful celebration dwindling down to another secondary stark reminder of how quickly his world had been turned upon its axis. It felt even stranger when contemplating the additional fact that he was now hosting a ceremony for his older brother- his older brother who had somehow likely spent more time away from their Clan than he ever had.

"Today, we have gathered here to witness the naming of yet another Warrior. Though this ceremony is a bit different than most, it is nonetheless just as deserving and highly regarded. Ashpaw, if you believe this to be true, step forward now and your ceremony will commence."

Ashpaw couldn't help his self-aware chuckle as Jaystar called him forward from the crowd. His fully-grown, adult form moved forward, and though he wasn't very tall he still stood higher than all the apprentices that lived in his former den. Walking until he reached the base of the Willow Branch, the gray-furred tom squared his shoulders and looked up at his younger brother, nodding firmly. He was ready for this, he had been for a long, long time.

A slight tremor, soft and gossamer in its silky consistency, gingerly crept the hard length of Jaystar's spine, a fiery pinprick of familiarity and remembrance blossoming low and deep at the ceremonial summons, verging upon identical to the words once spoken to him. Although now, Ivystar was just as much a ghost as Asylum was. Kitefire too. Yet here they stood, somehow proceeding backwards- eldest brother standing before him as though he were nothing more than a wayward fawn, now saddled with the newfound burden of determining name and worth. Countless eyes, shaded unfamiliar and harsh under the reflective gleam hanging heavily in the absence of proper light, quickly drifted into the general direction of which Ashpaw stood, curiosity and faint touches of amusement blatant in the cool stares of the uninvolved. Hard lines awash with the delicate similarities to his disreputable kin, the young dark-furred tom remained motionless for several long heartbeats- carefully assessing the unfolding situation before him, acutely aware of the newfound imbalance between himself and his brother.

"I call our ancestors to look down upon this Apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your code, and I commend him to you as a Warrior in return. Ashpaw, do you promise to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

The weight of the moment fell upon Ashpaw's shoulders, and for a moment before answering the scarred tom cast his gaze around the camp, vivid green eyes lush with memories.  In both good and bad times this place had been his home, his sanctuary, and the cats here had become his family.  Though many of the faces he saw were strangers, he knew that he would lay down his life to protect any one of them, because that is what it meant to be a clan cat.  Turning back to Jaystar after a brief moment of silence, he nodded and meowed firmly; "I do."

Silky dark edges of wispy fur catching sharply against the wan light of the terse evening, gentle ripples of pale light heavily framed the occasional movements of Jaystar; a familiar mimicry to the dark riverwater flashing under the bright illumination of the pallid moonlight. Hard cut lines of the cheekbone ridging sharply against the delicate curve of his face, the young tom continuously fronted a calloused expression, unwilling to divulge a fractional emotion while in the presence of still faintly unfamiliar faces of his familiar yet also relatively new Clanmates. Navigating the treacherously thin ices of selecting an apt new name was certainly difficult enough without the remembrance of all the strange events that had proceeded these backwards happenings; how things had changed just as much as they had remained the same.

"In that case, I shall grant you your new name. From this day forth, you will be known as Ashflight. RiverClan honors your devotion and empathy, especially seeing as it has been such a long time coming. Tonight, you will hold a silent vigil while the rest of the Clan sleeps. Until then, we celebrate the rise of a new RiverClan warrior." Sending forth a chilly flurry of pestering ice and downy snows, Jaystar was quick to vacate his new perch and instead join the congregation thronging about his older-yet-also-younger brother Ashflight.

Ashflight beamed as his new name was spoken aloud for the first time, and he couldn't have been happier with Jaystar's choice. The flight of birds as they traveled from place to place, migrating and learning the world's ways before returning home to their nest to look after their young, the name reflected his own experience in a way that almost brought a tear to his eye. As the crowd cheered for him, the gray-furred warrior purred and thanked them, feeling his chest swell with pride. Tonight he would stand guard over the camp, protecting the cats who gave him a second chance, and he would do that best job he could.