Snowkit's Apprentice Ceremony

Even as Perchfall followed the routine steps on her way to the Willow Branch, she knew that this apprentice ceremony was slightly different from the ones she usually did. The rest were other peoples' kits, of no relation or particular importance to her. This was Snowkit, the only daughter of her recently deceased estranged sister. Grief was not necessarily new to the deputy, but she really only knew how to process it internally. She already showed little external sign of emotion, and this case was no different. This might cause the kit to resent her somewhat, but she was doing her best to offer what little condolences she could. Likely it wouldn't be enough. But Snowkit was about to be an apprentice. She could fend for herself. Perchfall would love to help somehow... but the truth was, she had no concept of how. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own fish gather beneath the Willow Branch for a Clan meeting," she called out, forcing her voice to its normal neutrality. Life moves on.

Life moves on. Life continues trudging on, pulling those stuck in the past by the backs of their necks and the backs of their brains; Snowkit can feel the pull, count the days since Amberdawn’s passing. She swears she feels older now, like Amberdawn’s all-encompassing absence had sucked Snowkit’s youth away surely and painfully until nothing but withered old bones and honeysuckle longing remained. She had become nothing but her grief, let it consume and control her. Snowkit is bitter, terribly so, scrutinizing eyes sizing up every clanmate as she makes her way to her aunt’s side. Perchfall was no help with Amberdawn’s death, struggling through rocky and jumbling inducements not-so-cleverly disguised as comfort. The deputy knew nothing of grief except to channel it into anger and passion, and Snowkit did just that, soft giddiness freezing solid into contempt and hardened determination.

She was as cold as snow. Soft, fragile, but biting. But alas, as she curtly nods to Perchfall and stands at her flank, old, engrained loyalty emerges. Perchfall, as flawed as she may be, was her deputy, and Snowkit trusted her. Whichever warrior her deputy picks Snowkit will show utmost respect for, no matter her hard feelings. As a warrior should.

Seeing the curtness in the formerly optimistic young kit's eyes cut Perchfall to the quick. It felt like there was a barb in the back of her throat whenever she swallowed. Is it my fault? Could I have prevented this? Maybe if I had known Amberdawn better, maybe if I knew how to express emotions... But there was no point counting uncaught prey. She just had to accept that she failed, swallow the pain, and continue on with her life. "Snowkit, you have reached the age of six moons and are ready to be apprenticed," the deputy spoke, her voice as clear and neutral as ever. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, her tone did not belie her inner turmoil. If she could just get through the ceremony, then perhaps she could go sort out her feelings on a walk in the forest. But she needed to apprentice Snowkit... needed to help her... "Until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Snowpaw." Help her... who could help her? Who was a trustworthy cat, good with emotions? Who could she trust to teach Snowpaw what was right? Someone who could help them. There was only one option that her blurry mind found. "Your mentor will be Ashflight. I trust that he will pass all he knows on to you."

This was not premeditated. Initially she had wanted to take Snowpaw herself and teach her as best she could. But after her utter failure... there was no way she deserved such a privilege. Ashflight was a wonderful tom, full of friendship and laughter and life. If anyone could help her niece, it was he. So with the customary nod, Perchfall leapt down from the branch and studied the newly named apprentice for a moment. She wished to do something... to say something... anything. Her throat choked. Her paws would not move. Pathetic. All that the deputy could do was incline her head and bend her leg slightly in a gesture of respect, a callback to giving a much happier and more headstrong kit a ride on her shoulders, before she had to spare only a glance for Snowpaw's mentor and be off. Her heart hurt too much to linger.

Ashflight watched the ceremony from near the front of the crowd, his eyes periodically flashing between Perchfall and the young Snowkit.  Normally apprentice ceremonies were full of excitement and life for all parties involved, but today all he could sense from either of them was an overwhelming feeling of grief.  It made sense, the tragic loss of Amberdawn had hurt him as well despite not knowing the she-cat much; she was connected to Perchfall, even if distantly, and the losses of his friends he considered to be his own losses as well.  He smiled as Snowpaw was named, trying to bring at least some sort of dim light in this gloomy atmosphere, but as his own name was called as Snowpaw's mentor his expression faded for a moment.  He gazed up at Perchfall silently, his face quite unreadable.  After a moment though of quiet realization, he offered the she-cat a comforting and understanding smile, green eyes speaking the words he was too far away to say.  I'll take care of her, don't worry.

Stepping forward, his gaze turned to Snowpaw and he smiled, touching noses with the young she-cat.  "It's a pleasure to be your mentor Snowpaw, I'll do all I can to help you succeed and grow.  Tomorrow you'll go with Otterpaw and me to learn the territory and start your training, sound good?"  He kept his voice gentle and calm, he wanted to be respectful since this was likely an emotional moment for her.  His face though betrayed excitement; he loved having apprentices, and with Otterpaw already past the initial phase of kit-like wonder he looked forward to hopefully seeing that again in the bicolor she-cat.