Featherpaw's Warrior Ceremony

Thick rivulets of silky snow curled downwards from the bleak late evening sky, rich ribbons of irrefutable cleanliness that bleached the sad and somber winter riverlands; sprawling blankets of alabaster heaped on further by the perpetually lingering dusting of snow, disrupted only by the occasional tracking of muddied ice and churned sands. The stifling stillness of the dwindling grey light was interrupted only by the insistent, yet terribly faint, collision of snow landing upon starkly frigid ice, a backdrop of virtually unknowable hissing lost to the chatter of a burdened river. Tender ears and nose aflame with the scorching brush of lingering frigid dampness, Jaystar's sharp features creased softly as he peered down from his creaking seat atop the ceremonial willow tree, heralded only by generations of kin and forbearers.

"All cats old enough to catch their own fish, gather beneath the Willow Branch for a Clan meeting!"

Featherpaw left the apprentices' den as she heard Jaystar's voice summoning the clan to meet under the willow branch. As she brushed by the leaves of the apprentices' den, Featherpaw realized that it was her last time leaving that den as an apprentice. The next time she enters that den, it would probably to wake her own apprentice up for training, if and whenever that time would come.

She sat beneath the willow branch, waiting for the rest of the clan to gather and for Jaystar to start the clan meeting.

Smooth jut of the shoulder roiling sharply under the wild mane of his unkempt coat and idly brushing off a faint dusting of snow, Jaystar's slow movements atop the weight 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 a casual, calloused invitation to all of the gradually collecting onlookers currently peering on with mirrored expressions of apt interest, the young molly standing before him had an expression of resolute interest, an outcry of carefully concealed emotion seething low in her collected and casual movements. Though he held a slim clawful of experience at the tedious endeavor of hosting an official ceremony, his discomfort was an ever apparent streak of awareness coiling hot and low within his promptly frigid veins; the promise of a joyful celebration always watered down with the thin oils of a reminder of the ever-changing world, the absolute difference in where he was.

"Today, we have gathered here to witness the naming of yet another Warrior. Swanmist has spoken nothing but highly of her apprentice Featherpaw, and has assured me that she is ready for such a transition. Featherpaw, if you believe this to be true, step forward now and your ceremony will commence."

without hesitation Featherpaw stepped forward moving closer to Jaystar and the willow branch. She looked at her mentor then took a glance at all her clan watching her, this made her a bit shy but she was still excited to finally be receiving her warrior name. She then waited patiently but excitedly for the meeting to continue.

Softly ghosted with the silky remnants of a faint crusting of ice and frost, gossamer and web-like against the unkempt mane of his dark coat, Jaystar swallowed down the fiery pinprick of familiarity and remembrance blossoming low and deep at the ceremonial summons- forever a permanent reminder of those once spoken to him, though the ghosts were long gone. Asylum, Ivystar, Kitefire. Dark eyes observing the nonverbal display of obvious excitement trilling through the young Featherpaw, the dark-furred tom was nothing but a passive observer to the pride and affection that hung heavily in the bleary afternoon sun. 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 Featherpaw 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, keen gaze fixed upon the younger cat below.

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

Featherpaw stood next to Jaystar, looking down at the several pairs of eyes that were watching her. Without waiting another second, Featherpaw responded "I do!, with enthusiasm. She then did her best to wait patiently for the meeting to continue. This was her last moments as a RiverClan apprentice.

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 gaunt tom continuously fronted a calloused expression, unwilling to divulge a fractional emotion while in the presence of the young cat before him- the faintest touches of nerves evident within the lean lines of her little body. 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 Feathersky. RiverClan honors your kindness and dedication to putting others first. Tonight, you will hold a silent vigil while the rest of the Clan sleeps. Until then, we celebrate the naming of a new RiverClan Warrior." Sending forth a chilly flurry of crystalline ice and downy snows, Jaystar was quick and fluid in his movements to abandon his high-above perch and instead join the blossoming congregation thronging about the newly-named young Warrior.