The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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This was one ceremony that Perchstar had never performed. When Mistwalker had decided to become an elder, Perchstar had been far too deliriously sick to even attend, let alone hold it herself. And most recently, when Sandyshell retired... right before she died... Poppyshine had asked to do the ceremony, and so Perchstar had acquiesced. But this time, she would have to complete the duty herself. As painful as it was for him, Rowansong could no longer complete the duties of a warrior. His leap into the jaws of a wolf had left him mangled and maimed beyond repair. And so once he'd recovered as much as he was able, they'd both known that this ceremony would be inevitable. Every time she looked at him, the voice of blame inside her head replayed how slow she had been to leap in front of Cindersky--but then she would remember the conversation she and Rowansong had had, and try to push the voice away. There was nothing to do. Nothing but this: to give him all the respect and honor he deserved, and more. She took a deep breath. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own fish gather for a Clan meeting."
There was always a bit of apprehension when Perchstar mounted the Willow Branch now. Rowansong had finally relented to the foregone, and now every day was a wait for his final ceremony. A touch of bitterness rose up his throat at watching his aunt take her place and call the Clan together, but he swallowed it down. He could not go back and undo the attack; he could not, however hard he tried to, wish his body back into working order. Now was not a moment for the bitterness to surface. Later, perhaps; but now was for the meeting, and, if he needed it, for summoning the acceptance he was trying so hard to learn. Though he didn't move from the spot he'd found to sun himself, Rowansong lifted his head and turned his ears forward with attention.
Perchstar took no enjoyment from this ceremony. It was not a time of celebration or advancement. She did not want this; Rowansong did not want this. But life had a strange way of refusing what they wanted. Whether they liked it or not, this could not continue. Rowansong had been languishing in the medicine den long enough. Since he could no longer complete his duties, through no fault of his own, there was only one more place for him to go. Silently, she hoped with every fiber of her heart that remained for him to find some semblance of peace alongside Mistwalker. If she thought too much about this, she wouldn't be able to do it. She couldn't think. She had to just close her mind and open her mouth.
"RiverClan, we gather today to celebrate the life of a warrior," she said. Neutrality. Don't break like you already have; he doesn't need to see that again. "Rowansong is a beloved senior warrior. He has given his Clan many moons of dedicated service and skilled protection. In one of these acts of defense--" Stars. Her voice had almost broken. Perchstar closed her eyes and then resumed. "He has given his all for the Clan. Now circumstances have decreed that he can no longer perform the duties he used to." Ice-blue eyes found her nephew and met his gaze. She did not want to ask the question. They both knew that the answer would be one of exhausted resignation more than true agreement. However, she tried to remember the conversation they'd had. She tried to communicate as much of that love to him as possible without changing the expression on her face. "Rowansong... Is it your wish to give up the name of a warrior and go to join the elders?"
The words Perchstar continued with were familiar, but only-half so. A ceremony he'd only heard called twice; once, not even by Perchstar's voice. The clench in Rowansong's chest could not be ignored entirely, nor could the heat creeping up his pelt. He snorted quietly at the sound of his own name, feeling, in some way, strangely amused that this was happening at all. Life was quite the funny thing. And here he thought he'd be an acting warrior until he was old and senile, when he'd wander off looking for all those fantasies Felix spoke of. Funny, funny thing.
Rowansong's ears twitched. He closed his eyes, too, when Perchstar paused. This was painful for them both; this was painful for many. Besides, he didn't mind the delay-- allow him to be a warrior, just for a few moments longer. But the break was not indefinite, and Perchstar was--unfortunately but characteristically--quick to compose herself. Rowansong met the blue gaze that fell on him, finding no chill in the icy pools. Perchstar loved him; others, too, but for now he was looking at Perch. He would not forget that again, not for prolonged periods or impulsive lapses. He understood now.
"Well," for the first time in moons, a hoarse laugh made its way out of Rowansong's throat, "I would not deign to say I wish to." Conjuring levity was the only way he would survive this, however appropriate it was or wasn't. It was the only way he survived many things. But the briefly-appearing smile turned somber when Rowansong pushed himself more upright, shoulders rolling, and drew himself several paces forward. "Alas... it is the decision that must be made." He dipped his head in a low nod, remaining bowed for several heartbeats before he returned his attention to Perchstar. How terribly this whole affair ached. ...but everything would be better in the long run if he released his stubbornness. "Yes, Perchstar," Rowansong said, just loud enough to be heard, "that is my wish."
Sprucebarks ears flicked at the question their leader asked. He knew this was long coming. Still, it didnt make it any easier. All his life his brother has held pride. And while at first, the pair of warriors often butted heads. In their later days both had come to repsect one another and worked so well side by side.
The silence and then the answer made sprucebarks heart thump quietly. He would be sure to visit rowan, the prideful tom probably would not ad,it it dorctly but being all cooped up meant sprice would have to do am even better job keeping an eye on him
Going over to his brothers side he gently nuzzled his head into his shoulder. A rare time of emotion amd care coming from the logical thinker and planner
"Ill be sure to keep you out of trouble all the same... Assuming thats even possible" he purred and sat by his brother
Of course, the answer had to come sooner or later. Though Rowansong looked like he very much did not want to give it, eventually he steeled his nerves and met her gaze. Perchstar did not look away. She stared into the vibrant green, so much like his mother's. They're all still so young. How could the stars do this to them? Is fate really so cruel? But ruminations on the nature of fate and what was or was not deserved would only reopen the sores she had been trying so hard to close. So the leader instead let out a silent exhalation of breath and nodded in response to Rowansong's bravery. It was brave and courageous to accept an ending you did not want. "Then I hereby release you from the office of warrior." The words fell heavy from her tongue, but she did her best to imbue them with all the genuine respect that she felt. "RiverClan honors you and all the service you have given to us. I hope that you are blessed with many moons of rest." The ancient words were a call upon StarClan, but... Perchstar did not quite feel like invoking them right now. She had been quietly removing them from their place in the ceremony. Not out of spite, but simply... an owing to what was truly deserved. If the stars gave no blessings then they would receive none in return. But this wasn't a time for her to think about her own myriad issues.
Did this ceremony have a required gesture like the touching of noses for an apprentice and mentor, or the resting of the head from the leader? She had not been there for Mistwalker's ceremony--a spot that still ached in her heart--and for Sandyshell, Poppyshine had simply offered the gesture of mother to daughter. The affection that came so naturally from the deputy would feel far more stilted and insincere coming from her lesser counterpart. However, it felt wrong to simply walk away. Perchstar dismounted from the Willow Branch, then walked up to Rowansong. She would not intrude for long. Already Sprucebark had come to comfort his brother, and surely Poppyshine would not be far behind. But the RiverClan leader gazed at her nephew for a moment, before simply stepping forward and placing a single white paw on top of his. A physical gesture far smaller than that they had previously shared, but far greater than what she usually shared with any in public. But he deserved the world. Hopefully something this trifling would serve as even a shadow of his greatness. "Thank you," she told him. Her voice still kept its neutral calmness, but sincerity shone unmistakable in the light blue of her eyes. "And... do not forget." It was a simple reminder, but it meant much. She would not bore him with reiterating their painful conversation, but... he would understand. Do not forget that my offer to help you still stands. Do not forget that it is not your fault. ...Do not forget that I love you. Then finally she stepped back, so that his real family--not those given a name out of friendship rather than blood--could be there for him in a time so difficult.
Poppyshine sat by the sidelines as Perchstar performed the retirement ceremony for her son. Her memories flashed back to Sandyshell and Mistwalker before her…There were so many young warriors who were being relegated to the elder’s den due to circumstances beyond their control. It was unfair. Poppyshine hated to see Rowansong end up like this, but they had tried for over a moon now to try and rehabilitate his body with no success. It made her heart ache, and there was a part of her that feared Rowansong suddenly falling ill and passing away just as his sister had. She couldn’t bear it if that were to come true and so she chased the thought out of her mind and blinked back the tears as she listened to Perchstar’s ceremonial words. Perchstar’s gaze was not directed at her, but she could see the love in her friend’s eyes anyway. Perchstar loved Poppyshine’s children just as much as she loved Perch’s, and it truly meant a lot to her. Her children were lucky to have Perchstar as their aunt.
When she concluded, Poppyshine stood and approached alongside Sprucebark. She leaned down and licked the top of Rowansong’s head and then rubbed her cheek against his. She murmured, “As painful as it may be, you truly have earned your place as a respected elder. Don’t go thinking otherwise, understood?” Poppyshine pulled away and her eyes burned with tears she could not hold back. “I love you. I’ll be here to help in whatever way I can while you get settled.”
Larkspring sat by the wayside as the ceremony began. This was entirely unfair. When he had learned of his former mentor’s injury after they escaped the wolves, he had been alarmed. But…he had been hopeful. Rowansong had such tenacity and he was such a strong personality. Of course he would recover and continue to pester all of these cats as a warrior, just as he had since Larkspring was born. But time went on and he didn’t get better and now they were here, with Rowansong being eldered like he was an useless nest falling to pieces. It was not fair. His tail thumped against the sand behind him as he listened to Perchstar’s gentle words and watched Rowansong deflect with a little humor during his part of the ceremony. It wasn’t. Fair.
