Daisykit's Medicine Cat Apprentice Ceremony

Daisykit’s small ears perked as she heard Smallstar’s summons. A bolt of excitement tingled down her spine. Tonight was the night. She squeezed herself out from under Molepaw and Berrypaw, where they had taken to sleeping lumped up together in a warm fuzzy pile. The bi-colored she-cat’s fur caught the fading light as it slipped between the trees, dusting her in the last warm tones of the dying daylight. She padded softly around her settling clanmates, clearing a weaving path to where the WindClan leader waited. “The best we can do will have to be enough.” She said, with a respectful dip of her head. Less formally, she brushed her white-tipped tail against the older tom’s shoulder, just briefly in fleeting reassurance. Her leader’s tone didn’t make her falter, or even give her pause. She was unblemished by the heavy hands of time, fresh and vibrant in the face of it. Misfourtante and tragedy events beyond her fathoming had worn grooves into Smallstar, but she was whole and sharp still, happy to lend her optimism even in the uncertainty they faced on the daily. She was confident that despite the hardships and the general sense of being misplaced, something good would come of this whole adventure. “Things will work out as they’re meant to be, we’ve gotten this far haven’t we?”

And maybe her confidence was misplaced, but Daisykit had never done anything by halves. She had complete faith that their journey would lead them somewhere better. She worried about the cost, in the back corners of her mind that weren’t cluttered with whirling questions and the bright joy of adventure that each new day brought. But it was a far-off fear, dulled by the ground they resolutely covered each day, and the small flame of hope that warmed her chest, undaunted by wind or rain or the ever-changing terrain. She had her clan and her family and her unshaken faith, it was enough for her.

Smallstar’s muttered string of words were half buried under the forest noise, but they fell as soft and reverent as a prayer over her. The dusk followed the slow-bleed of sunset colors from the sky, casting them both in silvered half-shadows. Her bright amber eyes glowed like the setting sun in her face, meeting Smallstar’s gaze as confidently as she had when he first asked her. There was no room for doubt when the future breathed close down her neck, and her sense of duty slammed  a war-drum in her chest. It urged her towards a divergent path, casted her feeble skin in stone and marble, shoring her up for others to lean on. Now that it had been offered to her, like the pomegranate seed and the careful reach of Persephone's slender fingers, she could not refuse. “I’ve no doubts. If StarClan accepts me, then this is my path, and I'm ready to walk it.”

Daisykit stepped into the carefully constructed nest, settling down with her nose tucked under her tail. Even with the flickering pulse of excitement stinging under her skin, sleep had always come easy to her. Perhaps it was slightly strange, to close her eyes against the deepening shadows without the steady breaths and warm bodies of her siblings to lull her into stillness. But she felt safe in Smallstar’s shadow, and she was not afraid when the dark closed in around her.

Daisykit was nervous, or maybe excited? Either way the feeling was so strong it buzzed in her ears like the beating of moth wings. The rolling excitement and curiosity and wonder tumbled around in her gut like a feather in the breeze, tickling her insides until her whole body felt unsettled and jittery. It made her want to sink her claws into the unnaturally cool grass, or worse, spill a moon’s worth of questions onto the faintly shimmering Starclan cat in front of her. She shuffled her paws, perplexed at the familiar and not familiar texture of the grass. Everything here was subdued and dusky, fainter and less vibrant than the real territories. Quieter too, even the rustle of the star-flecked grass was fainter than in life. But it felt like home, the sweet heather and the soft-tufted clouds that whispered as they brushed past the stars. The rolling, unending fields felt familiar in that unnameable, intrinsic way that couldn’t be described in any terms other than the steady thump of her heart, or the most stubborn, resilient marrow knocking around inside her bones. It locked into place in her chest, nestling up against her heart. Her tail flicked, up down, up down, to match the wild writhing of her insides, the good feelings coating her stomach in a gentle warmth and reigniting that ever-burning fire of curiosity in her eyes.

“I’m so excited to be here. I almost don’t know what to ask.” She said, lifting her head to look the she-cat in the eyes, it was the respect she was owed after all. Hentooth’s scarred appearance didn’t put off the bi-colored molly, it only piqued her curiosity more. In front of her was a cat who had seen many things and felt even more. The young she-cat looked up at the tortoiseshell medicine cat, clinging to every word with an intense concentration, like if she even blinked she might miss something. And she wanted everything. Any tidbit of advice or knowledge to be had, she wished she could sit here forever, listening to Hentooth’s warm voice blend with the rustle of moor-grass, sink her claws into every detail and ask for another story or ask another question. She purred softly when Hentooth knocked her fondly on the shoulder, it reminded her of tussling with her littermates and the easy companionship she often found with them. You’ll be alright. And maybe Daisykit had once expected to charge into battle shoulder-to-shoulder with her littermates, a vigilant second set of eyes to watch their backs. It was nerve-wracking to see her path diverge, such a drastic split from the rest of her family, but it filled her up with pride too. She wanted to learn, she thirsted for knowledge, she desperately and wholehearted wanted to know everything she could, store up all the information she could find and hoard it for the dark moons looming ahead. But even if everything took to crumbling, she felt confident she had Hentooth’s eyes on her, and her own strength to fall back on. She was not one for falling apart, and maybe that’s what WindClan needed in times like these.

Any questions? Was a dangerous thing to ask Daisykit, but she knew Hentooth’s brain was not for picking. Everything she had shared already was a gift. “I guess I’ll just ask for your blessing, everything else I want to know will come later. I know this path is not an easy one to walk, I'll do everything in my power to look after WindClan.”  Daisykit said firmly, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, cutting a small but solid figure against the star-flecked sky. She would fling herself into fire for her family. She would shred herself to ribbons, scrape away any part of herself she could reach if it meant preserving them, preserving her clan. She was not afraid of anything. She was WindClan’s, bound to them in blood and heart. She was StarClan’s, tethered by her faith. She did not do anything by halves afterall.