Stoatfur's Leader Ceremony

Exhaustion worried down into the marrow of his bones. This night was far from over; he had to face Starclan. So much had happened in such a short time that he hardly had the ability to process it. What would he come back to in the morning? What would they expect? Would there be disappointment? The little tom tried to forget about the gathering - all of it had been muted noise in his head, diluted by the pain that simmered at the base of his skull. He wished Thrushnose was here, that any cat was here but the clan needed all they paws they could have.

What traveling herbs he remembered sated the hunger but they were wearing off. Medicine only worked on those who let it heal. The sinew of his muscles was strained and taut as he climbed the side of highstones. Every so often, uneven stone would bit into his pads. He bit his lower maw, fighting back the tears that pricked at his eyes. Almost there, then he could rest for a while... for a bit and then back to the clan. Back to patrols and duties and prying eyes. It took everything in him to not collapse on the spot. Then, he was standing at mothermouth, gaping and imposing. Sucking in the stinging, cold air, the Thunderclan leader plunged forward.

As he traveled down, deep into the swallowing darkness, Stoatfur found himself holding his breath. It was suffocating and his heart thudded relentlessly. Many moons had passed since he had visited the moonstone - there was no reason to. He was not a warrior that thought much about the ancestors or really any matters of faith; it simply was not an important thing to him, whether or not these beliefs were a reality. Regardless, it seemed that the time had come for his fate to be placed in the paws of the stars. A lack of ability to control circumstances left him terrified but there was no option, none of this was up to him. Stoatfur was merely an insignificant part of a much greater world.

The dazzling glow of the stone, alight with moonlight, set his teeth on edge and caused a chill to run the length of his spine. Whatever breath was left in the new leader’s lungs was swiftly stripped away. There was a hesitation that stuck his paws to the earth, like they were frozen to a patch of ice.  He did not have a choice - he could not turn back. Clenching his teeth to make the journey a tad more bearable, he closed the distance between himself and the stone. Settling down onto his stomach was an even more unpleasant feat, as the chill that overwhelmed him was not a pleasant one. But he adjusted and allowed his nose to touch the stone. With an uncertain sigh, Stoatfur had one finally thought before drifting to sleep. Do with me what you will, Starclan. I can take it.

Beartooth - Devotion [Me] As he blinked and took in the scenery of the starlit forest, he quickly realized that before him sat a large tom. His pelt was that of a tabby, but almost dusty, sandier in a sense. It was easy to pick apart the abnormalities of the Starclan cat. Oversized teeth pried open the bottom of the other cat’s maw. Scars littered the coat, crossing to and fro through the star-speckled fur. The most interesting was a seven-clawed mark over his eye. Stoatfur noted it with interest, just barely preventing his eyes from widening. Such a wound immediately drew wonder of what beast might create such a mark; a simple glance down gave the answer.

Stoatfur had to admit that he was a bit in awe of the beast, whose solemn green eyes stared silently into the deputy’s coat. Flicking his tail, the little Thunderclanner finally dared to pipe up when no immediate greeting came, “Are you here to give me a life?”

“Yes.”

The answer was simple, a gravelly voice that seemed to lack any sort of enthusiasm. He wondered what kind of cat this was - that needed to have a life dragged out of him. Stoatfur didn’t press, rather waited and watched with curious eyes. A few heartbeats passed before there was a follow up, not because the late warrior seemed to be willfully hesitating, but rather because it seemed there was a silent flicker of thought to those dull eyes. During this time, he glanced around, drinking in the familiar setting. Starclan promised an ethereal peace - it was almost tempting.

“My name is Beartooth. I was a former Thunderclan deputy. This life is the life of devotion.” He rose to his massive paws, quickly closing the distance between them. Their noses touched, colliding as a bolt of fire rushed through Stoatfur. His eyes squeezed shut to bear the sensation but it was still unlike anything he had ever felt before. Was this what it felt like to touch a Starclan cat? He had not done that on his previous visit. Or perhaps…

As the feelings bolted through him, the response quickly came. This was the life, the gift the strange tom had chosen to give. Stoatfur sighed, letting it wash over him as the flames subsided. Beartooth gave a nod before turning to disappear back into the starry forest, one that reminded him of Thunderclan’s territory. He was left in a momentary daze, drinking in the lasting fire of the life of devotion - it would be a moment that he wouldn’t soon forget.

One down. Eight more to go.

Wolffang - Conviction [Me] “Well, aren’t you an impressive legacy? Guess my offspring weren’t entirely useless after all.” The rough rasping of Wolffang’s voice broke through the air and caused him to snap back to attention. There were hints of a wry smile across her maw as she stalked forth from the starry background. Stoatfur and her were about the same height, so their eyes met evenly. It was strange, the way he felt like it was only proper to take a step back in her presence but he stopped. Yellowed-eyes seemed to stare into the depths of his soul. For a moment, the tom considered asking about his kin, and what she meant. But before he could, the little gray tabby was speaking once more.

“I don’t want to waste my entire day here, you know I only have eternity so, I’ll cut right to the chase.” As she spoke, he found himself fascinated by the many scars that crossed her pelt. Many warriors he had seen did not ever bear such markings. It told a story of a heavily-burdened life.  Stoatfur flickered his tail and focused on her words once again, “Conviction. It’s what you need. As a leader don’t waver in your beliefs, do better than I did and take up your convictions. Use them no matter the circumstances. Don’t disappoint me.” She never even told him her name before leaning forward to touch their noses together.

The life fired through him, relentless, unyielding, adding stone to his paws and making his stance become taller, even if it threatened to take his underbelly to the ground. She watched him, pulling back, without sympathy in her gaze, until it began to subside and then nodded, “Wolffang, by the way. If you hear bad stories about me, make ‘em worse.” The flicker of a smile appeared once more before she padded back and passed Leopardstar. She returned his expression, holding his eyes for a moment longer, before disappearing into the stars.

Leopardstar - Connection [Rainyheart] Following closely behind the tabby she-cat came a powerfully built golden tom-cat with spotted tabby markings, his hazel eyes meeting Wolffang’s as they passed each other.  He smiled at her, the glint in his eyes betraying fondness, however as he turned to face Stoatfur the warrior’s expression changed, a serious yet neutral frown sharpening his intense features. The little brown and white tom was still recovering from his last life as he faced the next one. Leopardstar carried with him an air of respect and authority, the inherent presence of a leader.  ”My name is Leopardstar.  I was the leader of ThunderClan before Oakstar, the predecessor of your grandfather.  Under my reign ThunderClan was a place of sanctuary, a home for any cat who truly wished to devote themselves to the Warrior Code no matter their origin.  I’m pleased to see that Minkstar has continued the legacy of acceptance, and I hope that you will do the same.”  The deep-voiced, slow speaking tom paused for a long moment and gazed at Stoatfur, and slowly the very hint of an affectionate smile began to reveal itself.  ”In a sense, you are my great-grandson.  Your grandmother Batbite is my adopted daughter.  I’ve never been a cat to separate my adopted kits from the ones who share my blood.  They’re my children all the same, and I will always cherish and watch over my family, in the living world and in the stars.”

”In life, it was difficult for me to connect with those I loved.  I was left for dead by my birth mother in a cruel world, lucky to survive and be adopted into ThunderClan.  Such a thing can break a kitten’s ability to trust, and thus damages a warrior’s ability to form crucial relationships with the cats around them.  As leader I struggled to connect with my clanmates, to allow them to see the true me behind my title and authority, and with this life I hope my mistakes can be avoided.”  Touching his nose to Stoatfur’s, Leopardstar could feel the power and majesty of the stars flood through him, like a conduit to the cosmos.  His voice echoed and resounded like the crashing of a waterfall as the painful life was bestowed upon ThunderClan’s new leader; ”I give you a life of connection.  One cat can not stand alone against the world for long, trust your clanmates and loved ones to support and guide you in your times of need.  It will give you all the strength you need to keep going, even if your body fails you.  There is nothing in life more important than the bonds we share, they can last beyond death itself.”  Once the life had been received in full, Leopardstar bent his head to Stoatfur before stepping away, looking back over his shoulder to offer a surprisingly warm smile before melting back into the crowd.

The way it crackled through his little frame was intense, sparks dancing through the entirety of his palt even as it subsided. Leopardstar’s words met his ears and caused them to twitch. Although he did not relate to the desire of wanting to allow every cat into the clan, there was a new perspective provided to him - and a cat who related to his struggle. As the former leader padded away, he muttered a low thanks as he found himself reminded of Minkstar, and a time so many moons ago.


Poolstep - Warmth [NPC, Downfive] As Leopardstar retreated, quiet rippled through the air. The golden tabby found no immediate replacement; the most recent life was given time to course through the soon-to-be leader. The moment stretched and drew longer, an achingly slow span of silence. Slowly then, almost hesitantly, a slim, pale tabby stepped forward, sprays of stars giving her dove-colored pelt a lovely glow. She paused a moment to regard the living cat before her, then finally bowed her head in acceptance and closed the gap to loom over him.

"Stoatfur." Her voice was cool and even, blue eyes glittering as she stared down her muzzle at the tom. "I'm pleased to see you here. My name is Poolstep– I was one of ThunderClan's queens, seasons ago. Introductions aren't so important, though," the tabby chuckled softly, a warm smile turning up the edges of her lip. Hopefully, it would be a long time before the patched tom found her in StarClan again; she wouldn't be hurt if he forgot her name. There were more important things to say, and more important cats left yet to speak.

"I'm honored that I get to grant you this life, one of many blessings as you rise to become our great Clan's leader. Above all else, ThunderClan values few things: loyalty and connection most. We can often be found enjoying the sun's warmth with our Clanmates, sharing tongues and appreciating one another's presence; we are beside each other always, lending paws for training sessions, patrols, and even simple companionship; and, in battle we're fierce creatures, baring every tooth and claw to defend those we love."

A flicker of emotion passed Poolstep's steady gaze, and she quirked her head to the side. "I died defending my kits. There's nothing I would have done over again; if ever given the chance, I would do everything the same. If it meant my kits, or anyone– my friends, my family –would survive, I would die nine times over." A pause to snort a laugh, then, "Though I suppose that's your destiny, hm?" She shrugged, then dutifully pressed on without allowing Stoatfur a breath to acknowledge her tactless joke.

"I chose to defend my loved ones until their dying breath. Allow love into your life, and allow warmth. Don't be so cold to them, little one– open your heart. Learn everything you can about them; understand your Clanmates' anguish, so that they may understand yours. Grant yourself the presence of another when you need it. Grant them your presence when they need you. Do not just be a leader to ThunderClan– be a friend. Make yourself family to them; brother, father, even if just in spirit. They will love you, Stoatfur, and ThunderClan treasures their loved ones.

Let your affection for them warm you like the greenleaf sun, and let their affection for you be returned in equal measure. Take care of ThunderClan, and the heat of love and pride will embolden your spirit. In the face of danger and uncertainty, you will rise to protect what you hold dear." Poolstep sighed, her smile soft and gaze fond. Watching ThunderClan from the stars had always been her greatest joy; now, she was here to bless a new leader with the strength to lead his Clan well, even if he hadn't been ready. Her heart swelled.

"With this, I grant you the life of warmth. Use this to treat gingerly the cats you are sworn to, and fight fiercely against those who would do them harm. Take it gracefully, and be careful not to see any of us anytime soon." Another brisk laugh, then the slim tabby unceremoniously dropped her head to shove her nose against Stoatfur's. Her pelt rose to stand straight as the life coursed out of her, and her whiskers trembled through the last of it. Backing up a step and taking one more moment to regard the little tom, Poolstep whispered, "I mean it, take care of them," before returning to the stars she had come from.

Stoatfur’s ears flattened against the life. The casual conversation in between made it easy to forget what was to come so shortly after. Poolstep seemed like a kind cat, devoted, in ways beyond what he had ever done. Caring for her kits… it was as if the message was supposed to mean something to him. And maybe it did, more than he cared to admit. It was hard to find the pleasant sensation, more difficult for him to reason with this life. In the meantime, it was agonizing. Slowly, the fire died away and the burning heat became a comforting warmth. He took her words and tucked them away, dipping his head in a brief thanks.

Wolfblaze - Boldness [Alexcentria] A large, gray tabby molly with amber eyes that burned with life, even in death, lumbered forward next, a smirk on her maw. The wounds that Stoatfur had seen upon her as she lay dead near the Sunningrocks had disappeared, replaced with shimmering stars and a faint glow. Wolfblaze wasn't about to let death stop her from giving Thunderclan's next leader some fun... even if it was possibly her last. She had started off slow, before suddenly speeding up, looking as if she was about to pounce, before stopping just in front of him, grinning like a kit becoming an apprentice.

Stoatfur’s mind had still been on the previous life, mulling over the idea of connection, and what it meant for himself and his clan. Out of the sides of his vision, eyes that had become glossed over with thought, there was a flicker of movement. He glanced up to see a cat pelting towards him. His stance instinctively became more solid, prepared. It took a moment but right before she was on top of him,  he realized the she-cat in front of him was a familiar one. A soft smile crossed his maw and lit his eyes. Wolfblaze.

"Did I scare you? Probably not, but it was funny." Wolfblaze couldn't help but keep smiling for a moment, before it faded into something more serious, more becoming of a cat giving a life to a leader. "Anyway, sorry, couldn't help but have a bit of fun. Instill it in you before I really give you your life. I am here to give you the life of boldness. As a leader you must make decisions that decide life or death for your clan, and sometimes you must take risks in order to succeed. You cannot stay in safety forever. Kits and elders get hungry, and the other clans are greedy. Sometimes all you need to take is a leap of faith, and the idea that you cannot allow anyone to judge you for what you do. That will give you strength, and that will give you courage. Those are the things you need to take risks. Do not be afraid of your decisions, Stoatfur, with this life, you've got no right to be." The large molly fell silent, amber eyes resting on the form of her friend and deputy.

Wolfblaze leaned in, touching her nose to his. It was as if a fire erupted within, the pain searing through Stoatfur's chest, then his extremities. It was as if he was being scorched from within, left as a charred shell. A stronger shell, as if the fire had, instead of burning him to embers and ash, tempered his spirit. As the pain flickered out, the warmth remained. A small fire, lit inside, able to become a raging inferno at just a simple thought. All it needed was fuel. Wolfblaze stepped away, but before she went back amongst the stars, she voiced a request. "Tell Kestrelswoop I love him, and that he can take his time getting here." A smile formed once again on her maw as she trotted away, disappearing amongst the stars as the others had.

It wasn’t until he’d seen her body, broken so carelessly and tossed aside like prey, that he had begun to realize the deep kinship he felt towards his late clanmate. Even if her personality had overwhelmed and agitated him, Stoatfur cared intensely, more than even he realized. Eyes had softened as she regarded him and stayed that way, only briefly wavering for a moment to accommodate the life that Wolfblaze had bestowed upon him. She likely didn’t realize but this moment they shared only further emphasized that of Leopardstar, blossoming a likeness to the idea of connection. As she pulled away, many thoughts circled in his mind. Wolfblaze had been the one to teach him about death, but it seemed she’d begun to show him true life as well.

The approach of another cat, one who rudely shoved Wolfblaze aside, was the next to appear before him. Admittedly, he was too distracted to quite work up the glare he intended.

Pricklebush - Judgement [Ash] Without any fanfare, a large tan-furred tom shouldered Wolfblaze aside and took her place. He was muscular, and the spikiness to his star-studded fur made him look even bigger than he already was. Piercing sage-green eyes glanced at the small tom in front of him, then narrowed as if to convey that he wasn’t impressed. ”So, you’re Stoatfur, huh. Well, I’m not sure what I expected.” He waved his bushy tail slightly in irritation. ”I’m Pricklebush. Former ThunderClan medicine cat, unfortunately for everyone involved. Died as I lived, fighting a stupid predator. I think this whole business is a load of fox-dung, but as I do still care about my Clan, I’m here to give you something actually useful. Devotion, my furry tail.”

With a scoff, the large medicine cat advanced closer to the small Stoatfur, towering over him effortlessly with an intimidating aura that he never lost in death. ”Look. As I’m sure you know, the Clan is not in a good place right now. Part of it is Minkstar’s fault, part of it is your fault, part of it is the other leaders’ fault, but most of it is just how things are right now. These benevolent, glowing mouse-brains can spout off all the fox-dung they want about love and warmth--” here, his voice grew mocking, and he sneered-- ”but I think we all know that’s not what’s going to help you here. With the power these fools have let me hold in my giant-but-not-freakishly-oversized paws, I give you the life of judgement. You are an idiot, surrounded by even bigger idiots. If you want to do anything good for your Clan, you can’t go around talking about peace and love and saying ‘we’re all in this together.’ What are you, a kit? You need to be strong. You need to recognize right from wrong, and act on it. You need to know when a leader will be an ally or when you need to strike from behind. Don’t let bullies push you around. Be the bully if you have to. But as a leader, you will need to make decisions. I don’t care if they’re the ‘right’ decisions. Exile warriors, get into skirmishes, steal territory. I don’t care. Just do what, according to your judgement, is best for ThunderClan. Like, for instance, not getting into screaming matches with your warriors.” A small smirk grew on the tom’s face as he looked deeply into Stoatfur’s orange eyes. ”Incidentally, Appledapple was right. You’re a coward, and you really need to work on that.”

Leaning forward, Pricklebush shoved his nose onto the soon-to-be-leader’s in a way that was far from gentle, but still got the job done. This life was unrelenting and brutal. Stoatfur’s claws unsheathed to grip the facade of earth beneath his pads. He just barely managed to stand his ground. As he fought back, there began a certain clarity - a realization. In a sense, this life was a stark contrast to that of the one he’d received from Leopardstar. Although Prickletail’s attitude was more than off-putting, slowly, he digested the realness of the words, their value. And he realized something, and that was how much the former medicine cat seemed to truly care for the wellbeing of the clan, much like Stoatfur himself did.

”What, no ‘thank you’?” the medicine cat snorted, a slight upward twist to one corner of his mouth. ”ThunderClan leaders really are all the same. You better appreciate the cats in your life, Snortfur, or they’re not going to be there anymore. Take it from me. Judge them all you want, but if they tell you what you’re doing wrong, foxing listen. A little criticism is good for you.” Pricklebush backed away, brushing his large, spiky tail lightly against the smaller tom. ”Welp, I’m off to see Chervilpaw. No way would I stick around for the rest of this snore-fest. Bye.” With that touching farewell, he vanished into the starry crowd, surprisingly quickly for his size. However, Stoatfur got the feeling he wasn’t actually gone.

A determined look filled his gaze as he regarded Prickletail. With how swiftly the ceremony passed around him, and the many things that twisted and fired through his body, exhausting him in ways previously thought to be impossible… there was hardly time to get a word in. So, he was satisfied to see the medicine cat off with a stiff and unyielding nod. Almost swore I was in the dark forest for a moment, but even good cats can be unpleasant. He failed to see the irony.

Robinloft - Justice [Cotton] The next cat was a tall, dark she-cat with an amber belly, her big bright green eyes standing out against her dark figure. She was quite obviously a fully grown cat, yet her uneven gate was akin to that of a kit's as she approached Stoatfur, swaying from side to side as though she were getting distracted by invisible butterflies. She stopped abruptly about a half of a fox-length away from the tom.

"Hello, Stoatfur!" She said, her words matching the energy of the wide smile on her face. "My name is Robinloft. I was a warrior of Thunderclan before my life was taken by a Shadowclanner. From the moment I died, there was only one thing that haunted me: the abandoned kit of mine left back in Thunderclan, who had lost her father while she was young, now without a mother. I longed for the Shadowclanner to be brought to justice for the pain my kit went through. There's nothing worse than not being able to help your own kit, unable to be by her side when she is alone or upset." A brief silence fell between them. "With this life you will receive justice. Throughout your leadership, you'll be pressured with many difficult decisions where you'll have to decide right from wrong. Decisions like what fate a murderer would face." Her eyes flickered over toward Stoatfur's, a moment of solemnity falling over her. "Use this life to aid you in making the right choice. Trust your heart, and don't let bad deeds go uncorrected."

Reaching out, she touched her nose to Stoatfur's. Strong feelings of many kinds rippled through Stoatfur like waves on water, but only briefly. Rage and excitement, grief and terror, all there and gone in a flash, ending in a strange bittersweet peace.

Beginning to walk away, Robinloft left Stoatfur with only the high-pitched words, "Bye! Good luck!" from over her shoulder before disappearing.

He was a bit taken aback by her mannerisms but found being around the she-cat as comfortable as a clanmate. It was evident they were from the same clan. As she spoke, he found himself interested in the way she spoke of her kit, enraged for those she loved above herself. Stoatfur’s head dipped respectfully, somber almost. If he ever lost Thrushnose… eyes had squeezed shut when he took the life, feeling the many waves wash over him. Justice. For Thunderclan, for Minnowpaw, for Robinloft. She danced away as aloof as she’d come. Stoatfur blinked, realizing he’d thought of his apprentice. Perhaps some things had changed over the moons already.

Mossbloom - Wisdom [Moss] A grayed calico made her way towards Stoatfur, pawsteps quiet and purposeful as she drew closer. Stopping in front of him, she tilted her head up to look into his eyes, gazing silently at him for a moment before speaking. ”Stoatfur, greetings. My name is Mossbloom, I was ThunderClan’s medicine cat moons ago. I lived through many hardships in my life, and while they were difficult, those struggles also gave me wisdom. As a leader, you will be expected to make the decisions others don’t want to. There will be easy ones, and there will be hard ones. You must keep the safety and well-being of your clan at the heart of each of your choices, even if it feels like none of your options are good ones. In order to aid you with it, I am imparting you with a life of wisdom. Use it well to guide your paws, and in turn your clanmate’s paws.” She finished before stretching up to touch her nose gently to Stoatfur’s. Pain rippled through his body in waves, one moment struggling to breath as if he were drowning, swept away in a flood. The next staring into the eyes of danger as teeth gnashed close by. Coughing and heaving in the next heartbeat, fighting off a horrible, deadly illness. Grief and anguish of losing loved ones, followed by a quiet, luke-warm feeling of acceptance and almost strength as the last lingering claws of the life settled into his frame. Mossbloom stepped back, eyes flickering with warmth as she lowered her head respectfully. ”Take good care of our clan.” She purred softly before turning and disappearing amongst the stars once more.

Wisdom was something that he had always thought he had possessed but it seemed what he had was more akin to knowledge. As he stood there, with sides still heaving from the encounter, it began to fully wash over him. The many experiences and circumstances to come were surely unpredictable, but somehow, Stoatfur felt that Mossbloom had shown him it all. And he was ready to face it head on. She reminded him of his mom. The thought caused a warm feeling in his chest that was quickly dashed away - both due to his usual mannerism of not acknowledging the nature of their relationship, and also as he diverted his attention to the task at paw.

There had been eight Starclan cats so far, meaning only one was left. He’d longed for this moment, subconsciously of course,  and with a glimpse of a ginger pelt, everything was made right. Stoatfur had never had a father figure to look up to but Minkstar had become the closest thing. The former leader quite literally was the tom he’d looked up to, in more ways than one. Resentment had been the first feeling, disdain towards being picked apart by a cat who could see into his flaws. All of that had melted away and been replaced with respect, admiration, and a love for the tom who was his kin. Immediately, without thinking his head dipped. Whether it was relief or something else, Stoatfur exhaled from the sides of his maw.

He was going to be Minkstar’s successor - the reality of it hit him like a boulder. Somehow, he was going to fill the void left on the Highrock.

Minkstar - Love [Chickenwing] Large white paws padded silently across the starlight-glimmered grass. On the whisper of a breeze swirled the mingling scents of the river, tall, golden grasses, and the aroma of the forest in greenleaf, the medley carrying ahead to wind around the new leader. He approached from behind, muscles rippling under a glossy ginger coat, clear green eyes bright and sparkling. Even his step no longer held the weary edge of his latter days - the exhausted weakness from the weight of guilt and starvation - but had a bounce to it, a confident stride that eagerly ate at the distance between them.

Minkstar was home.

Slowing, he came to a stop as the other turned, studying his face for a moment, taking note of every scar and the shifting layers behind his eyes. Achingly familiar. "Stoatfur." A greeting purr rumbled from his chest, his gaze steady, a smile lilting the corner of his mouth upwards. And yet a subtle tinge of regret seemed to taint it, ever so slightly. "You know, I never thought it would end like this, kit. I've gained for years what I missed, but now that I'm here I miss what I've left behind. You know me - a mess of contradictions. Tried my hardest and failed most of the time." The smile broke into a crooked grin curving up his maw, the hint of a chuff of laughter on the edge of the words. "But I guess I didn't fail at one thing - I met your grandmother, and after our daughter... you came. If there's anything I'll never regret... it's the path that led me here, that led to you."

He stepped forward again, barely a whisker from his grandson's face, the smile remaining - softer, now. Sadder. His eyes stayed trained on the amber ones of the smaller tom before him, shining with a lifetime's bitter experience, yet gentled by peace. "I wish you didn't have to bear this," He said, voice softer. "I wish no one did. But someone has to lead, and you're the one that task falls to, for better or for worse. And kit-" He searched that so-often closed expression -"you need to realize you're not the only one. Believe me when I say you can't do it alone. I know you've never liked to confide much in others - stars know I needed to take my own advice - but you can't lead with only your own shadow to help you." A hint of mischief twinkled briefly in his eyes for a moment, chasing the seriousness back as a sly smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, his tone teasing. "Speaking of that, Appledapple will be a fine warrior to have by your side through this - the two of you work well together."

He chuffed a quiet laugh. "I wish you could stick around, let me show you the place a little, but I'll have to settle for an invitation to visit this glowy rock whenever you can, instead. Don't be like me and leave the visits for when you die." One last flash of his teeth in a grin, and then the smile faded, his stance settling slightly, a flicker of trepidation running through his pelt. Yet running counterpoint to it, a vague sense of encouragement ruffled through his pelt from the hosts gathered around them, trembling the stars that swirled and glinted through it. It was odd, being on this side of the conversation, looking into the waiting gaze braced for another electric release of power. Unlike him, Stoat would get to keep all nine of his lives from the get-go. He could only pray that the younger tom would get to use them better than he had.

Minkstar took a deep breath, lightly bumping Stoatfur's shoulder with a paw. "I've given you enough of a break. Guess it's time to do the other thing I came here for - besides talk to you." All joking airs and light tones faded away, replaced by sincerity that glowed brightly in the green of his eyes, a genuine honesty he felt closer and deeper than he had ever let slip from his glib tongue. "Stoatfur... for this part, I'm going to have to strip away your name. Everything you were is gone: the smart, quick-learning apprentice, the young, intelligent warrior; the doubtful, yet far-seeing deputy. You can't be any of those anymore, and you can't take back their titles. You can only move ahead with all that you are beneath the names and what cats see you as."

"With this life, I give you love. In all that you do, in all the pain you go through, let your love and the love of your friends and family stay with you. You can't do this alone, just as I couldn't. In everything that I went through, it was their love that made me the best version of myself I could be. Now, I give that to you." The barest breath of hesitation, wondering distantly if he'd said enough, if he could say more. He'd never been very good at the whole "inspiring long speech" thing. He'd just have to give what he could. Leaning forward, he pressed his nose to Stoatfur's. "Use it well."

In a rush of glittering stars that ran through his pelt like the wind on the moor, his life drained to the young cat before him, tinged with bittersweet memories. Clear green eyes on twinkling, brighter green ones set in a black-furred face, the moment precious and trembling with newfound feelings. The warm interior of somewhere dark, snuggled deeply against black-striped, white fur - warm blue gazing down. A different perspective, gazing down himself at softly wriggling little bodies, heart full to bursting, his chin resting on a pelt vibrating with a rumbling purr. And those last, blurred moments, filled with pain, looking up at worried, anguished faces, one last huff of laughter escaping his chest - a cracked purr. Silence.

The pain, the hope, the regrets, the missed opportunities; the love. In the midst of it all, all of the anguish and grief - love. Love from faces that should have by all rights held him in contempt for his brainless actions. Love when he hadn't deserved it; when he had. Tumbling and stumbling, panting and gasping, struggling and wasting away.

Love.

Tears misted his vision when he pulled away, his lopsided smile feeling like it held a thousand different emotions at once. "Kit, from now on you are known as Stoatstar, full and undenied leader of ThunderClan. StarClan welcomes you into the ranks of Clan leaders down the ages, and honours your bravery, courage, and willingness to step up for your Clanmates and represent them."

Cheers filled the clearing, thundering into the heavens above, starry pelts and glowing eyes bright. His own pelt had dulled briefly after the draining of power, but now it lightened once again. Minkstream smiled, resting his chin for a brief moment on Stoatstar's head, his voice soft and meant for the younger tom's ears alone. "You'll lead ThunderClan well, Stoatstar. I know it, and you better know it, too."

"See you on the flip side, kit."

It was only fitting that Minkstar give him the life of love. Their final moments together would be etched into his mind forever. Seeing him again in this moment, the tom wanted to cry tears of joy, of pain still, even. The former leader supported him, cheered him on, and welcomed him as a full leader of Thunderclan. But there was no denying in his chest the way he wanted to throw a fit like a kit - demand Minkstar return and he no longer hold this position. No matter how hard he wished or pleaded, that would not be a reality. So instead, he bowed his head, letting the words flow through him and the life over take him.

Physically, he felt like a brand new cat but mentally many more moons would have to pass before he recovered. This path that he was on was a never ending one. Sucking in a breath, Stoatstar raised his head, taking in all that he was for the first time. The answer was not much. And yet this great tom stood before him and spoke otherwise. Perhaps there were clanmates who felt the same. He felt his pelt growing weak again and he straightened to push it back. The desire to reduce to pleading, to beg Minkstar to stay, was strong. Yet he held back. He wasn't a kit anymore, not an apprentice, he was a leader.

"Everything I can, all that I am, for you and for Thunderclan, Minkstar."

Stoatstar's voice rang, a tinge of the stinging tears evident in his voice but there were equal parts determination. Inside, he was still this scared little kit, it was a deeply rooted thing. Fears, inadequacies, they weren't gone and they never would be. There was no doubt he would fail, time and time again. But he was focused, driven. This love, this passion, it wouldn't soon die out. Although he longed to stay here forever, there was a clan waiting back home. And they needed a deputy as much as they needed a leader. His eyes squeezed shut and when they opened again he was back at the moonstone.

This journey would be a long one but he wouldn't stop until he reached the end.