Dewclaw's Leader Ceremony

The moon shone abnormally bright. It bathed the cold stone in white light and stole away its color, leaving it with a milky white reflection. The only thing left as it was, a dark gaping hole in the rock face, was an eerie opposite. It was blacker than the night sky. It was big, and compared to a cat, seemed as if it could fit twenty monsters. It was cold, and made Dewclaw feel as if it were sucking at her very soul.

The pale gray she-cat, now ghostly white, stared into the gaping hole with wide blue eyes, barely restraining the fear that weighed her down. It was one thing to lead a battle. It was another to willingly and blindly follow an apprentice into nothingness, not knowing what was about to happen to you, or what terrors awaited the other side. She wasn't ready for this.

She wasn't ready.

"Dewclaw? Dewclaw, snap out of it!" Swiftpaw stared questioningly at his deputy. He sensed her reluctance, her fear. He, for one, loved the Mothermouth. The Moonstone. It brought him a sense of awe he could never hope to understand. Why did his courageous deputy suddenly act so timid, so scared? It wasn't like her, and it concerned him. Fourteen moons of watching her with admiration, and he'd never seen her like this.

"Right, right." I have to do this. I can't back out now. It had all happened so fast. First Mossstar with this unknown disease that descended upon him. Then Lionheart, brave and noble Lionheart, who finally passed on. He died peacefully, but Dewclaw had always pictured him dying with... well, with his Clan behind him all the way. And then Mossstar's crippling disease taking each and every life, slowly and painfully, as if it were taking vengeance by agonizingly ripping his soul to pieces. At first she was concerned about a breakout of the virus, but it wasn't contagious and died with the black tom.

"If we stand out here all night, you'll miss your chance. We must go- now." Swiftpaw urged her on quietly. He started walking into the shadows, watching Dewclaw to see if she would follow. When she hesitantly followed, he turned back to the path and followed the tunnel system that he knew well. He walked with strength, turning each turn with confidence and choosing the right path with wisdom.

Dewclaw lost him in the dark. She sped up so that her foreleg was always touching his flank, resolving not to let him leave her behind. He wouldn't, but she had to make sure. Each twist and turn crushed her more and more, until the voice in her head was screaming violently, telling her to turn around and run, run as fast as her legs would let her. It was just as the she-cat felt like bursting when a brilliant bright light illuminated the tunnel, and they walked into a much larger space. The gray cat lightened some, but was still wary, until her eyes caught the gleaming gemstone. It was beautiful, the kind of beautiful Dewclaw had never laid her eyes on until now. She stared, transfixed, until Swiftpaw gently nudged her and flicked his tail at it.

"Go and lay down by it. Press your nose to it, and close your eyes. You'll know what to do next." He said gently. Dewclaw realized now that, as young as he was, Swiftpaw was very intelligent and wise, if a little dim-witted sometimes. She laid down by the stone and lowered her head, touching the cold rock lightly with her nose before a sudden and heavy dreariness blanketed her. She closed her eyes, and was lost in darkness.

It felt like a lifetime before Dewclaw opened her eyes again. She expected to see the shining Moonstone once more, but instead, was... standing? Cold grass tickled her paws. She looked around to find four great oaks and a large boulder; the sky over head was blazing with stars, shining much brighter and much closer than your typical night. It was breathtaking. Fourtrees?! How in the name of- Her thoughts were interrupted by an odd voice, like many voices in one. It called to her, greeting her by name. "Greetings, Dewclaw..." She saw the stars begin to swirl, growing faster and faster, until they began to lower, forming into starry bodies. They stood and rows and rows and rows, forming to the farthest she could see. It frightened her, but she was glued to the spot.

Nine distinct shapes emerged from the starry shapes. They stood in a line, side by side. None of them were recognizable; not until the first body padded towards the gray-she cat. Her eyes lit up with joy, and her fears were immediately erased.

A silvery gray tom stood in front of her, almost an exact image. He looked young and filled with the honor he always had. He nuzzled his daughter affectionately and spoke, saying, "Hello, Dewclaw. I'm proud to see how you've grown. You've become such a strong and reliable cat." She purred as Bleakfang, her father, spoke in his deep, rumbling voice. It always brought such comfort to her. It had been painful when he died of infected wounds, the result of a ferocious battle over Sunningrocks.

"Today, the whole of StarClan stands here to witness as your old life is stripped away, and you are granted nine in its place." He rested his muzzle on her forhead, and a sudden and agonizing pain came upon her, as if claws were tearing at her flesh, determined to pull her apart. She would have yowled aloud in pain if she could open her mouth, but it was clenched shut. She'd never experienced this pain before, not in even the worst of her wounds. At the end of the pain, she began to pant, feeling empty and lost, like a shell of herself. She stared into Bleakang's eyes, where compasson and a hint of pity was glinting.

"With this life, I give you commitment." He continued, as though nothing had happened. "Use it to stay true to your Clan, and to the promises you make." Her pressed his nose to hers this time, and she shut her eyes tightly as the pain coursed through her. With the pain was the odd feeling of pursuit- she had something to catch, and she couldn't stop until she had it- she had to have it! It urged her to chase the sun, and to never stop until she had the golden rays in her claws. The pain combined with the feeling began to subside, and Bleakfang stepped away, saying no more.

Dewclaw watched him leave, silently begging with her eyes for him to stay, to say just a few more words. But he didn't, and she was downcast. When the next starry form came close, the milky scent that wrapped around her brought her spirits back, soaring. She recognized Asterclaw, her mother who had died of a very serious illness. It was wonderful to see her back to herself, with strong muscles rippling and blue-gray fur shining; she was not your average queen. Her orange eyes were filled with pride at the sight of her daughter, who had grown taller than she. Asterclaw skipped the formalities.

"Ah, Dewclaw. With this life, I give you patience. Use it to be patient with your Clan, and the apprentices you train. Use it also to not be rash and offend the other Clans, so that the forest is not torn down by your paw." The deputy shrank away at her mother's harsh but teasing words, then straightened up to receive the life. She dug her long claws into the ground as the terrible pain ripped through her body, accompanied by the sensation of annoyance. Dewclaw felt anger and even fury claw at her mind, until a sudden calm coolness poured over her and hushed her raging mind.

The lean blue-gray she-cat left her, and in her place was a rather small tom. Despite his small size and young look, he had an edge to his purr that suggested many years of wisdom. Dewclaw thought she recognized him as the grizzled old tom who told her the story of LionClan in her young kithood. He gave a rusty purr and began his speech.

"With this life, I give you honesty. I gift this to you because I know the wild stories you've told the other Clans, and I do not want that to become a habit- especially not to your own Clan. Do not let your pride get in the way of truth." The ThunderClan she-cat couldn't help but feel ashamed, and then angry. All these cats were pointing out her flaws. Nevertheless, she accepted the life, this time trying to prepare herself. Instead of pain, she felt a crushing weight, as if a boulder were dropped on her shoulders. She wanted to collapse, to let it roll off, but she couldn't move again. Suddenly, it was as if the boulder were lifted, and she gave a big exhale of breath.

The tom joined the others, and a large tabby tom came to meet her. Her heart soared, and for the first time, she moved; she ran to meet him in the middle and nuzzled him lovingly. He pulled her close, and they shared a few intimate moments. "Oh, Adderheart... I thought I'd never see you again..." She mumbled, drinking in his comforting scent. His deep purr rumbled in his chest, and he pulled himself away. Staring into his bright amber eyes was the worst of the pain she'd had to endure so far.

Way back when Dewclaw was just a young warrior, when Lionheart was Lionstar and Mossstar was Mosspelt, she had gone on a hunting patrol with Adderheart. As a poor hunter, Dewclaw failed almost every catch, but he still encouraged her and joked with her and thought nothing less of her. They were always together, in love, and inseparable. When she was around him, she didn't have to be tough all the time, or a brilliant fighter, or an excellent strategist. She could be just a normal queen, nothing more. It was refreshing to not be expected to be aggressive or hasty all the time. Instead, she could focus on the kits that were coming. Her first litter. Her only litter. And he never got to see their beautiful faces, their handsome pelts. He had died defending the borders from a fox trying to cross over from ShadowClan territory. She didn't even get to say goodbye.

When that happened, she could've given in to depression, but she didn't. Not even after Acornkit and Morningpaw died, or Duskfang went missing. She had nothing left of her family then; but that was when she thought of the entire Clan as her family, as those she had to protect at all cost. The klutzy and dim-witted apprentice had grown into an aggressive and intelligent warrior, with extreme responsibilities and a never-failing sense of strength and confidence. She had budded into a natural leader and took over everything Adderheart left behind, filling out her duties to the best of her abilities. And it gained her the rank of deputy, and soon, leader.

"With this life," Adderheart said, his deep purr serenading Dewclaw, "I give you love and compassion. Need I say more?" He gave a small chuckle. "Use it to show these qualities to all, even the ones you despise. You have nothing to gain from hate." Instead of pain, or weight, or odd sensations, the moment their noses touched she was filled with a feeling she hadn't felt in a very long time. Warmth spread throughout her body, intensifying each second and putting out the feeling of wariness inside her. She gave a contented sigh, and watch Adderheart leave her side, feeling sad they couldn't be closer for just a little while longer.

"Patchpaw?" Dewclaw asked, surprised to see her young, white and gray-patched brother. He was still the size of an apprentice, just as he was the day he had died- young, happy, and full of life and joy. The pair had been unstoppable during apprenticeship. It was tragic that this gleeful tom lost his life in the most horrid of ways. Patchpaw had been quite literally ripped to shreds by a cruel and unmerciful rogue tom by the SkyClan border, way back when the SkyClan cats still lived alongside ThunderClan. Dewclaw, Dewpaw then, was devastated.

"Dewclaw! I'm so happy to see you again!" Patchpaw licked her chin, being too small to reach anything else without straining his already outstretched neck. He gave her a toothy grin that reminded her much of Swiftpaw. "Er, okay. With this life, I give you mercy. This quality is what separates the Clans from the rogues and the murderers; do not become like them, because their paths lead down bloody and death-filled futures." She bent her head to let their noses meet, and she was suddenly shocked by anger and rage that pulsed through her body, accompanied by the feeling of having her insides set ablaze. After a few agonizing moments, it was as if the flames had been doused, and her anger left her.

Patchpaw playfully swiped at her forepaw, then bounded back to the line of starry cats as if she would chase him. She was tempted to pick up the game and play, to spend the rest of the night and many moons more playing in StarClan's version of Fourtrees. She was willing herself to move when a well-muscled and broad-shouldered gray tabby tom stepped from the line. He had an air of superiority, strength, command, and nobility. He was slightly faded, and it was obvious he was ancient.

He dipped his head to her and then spoke. "With this life, I give you faith. Faith in not only your Clan, but in your ancestors. We will be there for you. Helping you. Guiding you. Faith is the most difficult of trials, and the most painful. It takes sincerity and trust, and is not learned easily. You would do well to learn from the companion who now rests with you by the Moonstone, for he is well-learned in the ways of faith." Dewclaw thought back to the young tom. He was indeed very trusting, so it wouldn't surprise her to hear this of him. The tom pressed his nose to hers without warning, and she was unprepared. The pain was unlike any trial she had before, more than just of the flesh. It ripped at her mind and was icy cold but blazing hot at the same time, and lasted so much longer than the rest. She hadn't noticed him leaving, and another cat approaching.

By now, Dewclaw was weary and sore, wanting nothing more than to lay down and die right then. She looked up from the ground, which appeared to be swaying ever so slightly, to see a familiar form. It was Honeypaw, the apprentice who seemed to have been alive only a few sunrises ago. Her death was so swift, so sudden. And so agonizing for her poor sister, who had never quite gotten over it. Dewclaw couldn't say anything, and Honeypaw seemed to know this. The apprentice lightly touched the deputy's nose, saying, "With this life, I give you forgiveness. You have to remember to forgive those who hurt you, no matter how badly. You have to let it go, Dewclaw." Honeypaw stared into Dewclaw's eyes, as if communicating something unspoken. Let it... go? Let what go? She couldn't ask, being able only to give her a questioning stare. The life began to seep into the pale gray she-cat, like a freezing cold Leaf-bare chill. It began to grow so cold that it pained her, though it was by far much better and much shorter than the one before. Honeypaw dipped her head to the still-frozen Dewclaw and stepped back in line.

Her muscles ached all over. It was nice to see old faces again, but this was far from pleasant. She wondered at who would come next, apprehensively searching the rows of cats, when the next cat moved forward. As the tall yellow-furred tom came closer, Dewclaw's eyes widened and her mouth hung open. Lionheart gave a gentle smile, chuckling at his former apprentice. She had certainly expected to see him, but he was not as she remembered- no doubt from a time long before she was kitted. He looked as a young warrior would, brimming with energy and youthful strength, though he also had the look of a wise and noble leader- as he was in life while she was alive.

"It's good to see you again." Lionheart began with a purr. "Who's the senile old badger now?" Dewclaw smiled weakly at him, remembering her words to him only a few moons before his death. He continued on, past the joking. "With this life, I give you wisdom. May you use it to make the right decisions and say the right words, that you might lead your Clan down the path you see fit without question." They touched noses, and instead of the pain she had braced for, Dewclaw felt a clearness of thought, a sense of extreme focus. She felt like she had the ability to tackle any problem that arose, but with words instead of claws. How strange that was to her.

Lionheart dipped his head to his former apprentice and turned to leave. A familiar black tomcat took his place. Mossstar spoke, his voice restored, as well as his strong muscles and handsome pelt. "Dewclaw. I wish I'd had more time to be a good leader to our Clan. Though I know it wasn't my fault, I regret putting all of my responsibilities on you, without warning and without rest. I hope you can lead ThunderClan as I could not, actively and thinking of every member of the Clan, from the oldest elder to the youngest kit. With this life, I give you trust. Trust in your own Clan. You are not alone, and know that your Clan will always be behind you, in every situation and every circumstance. Trust also in your deputy, knowing that they will support you with all of their heart and mind- as you did, while I was unable to take care of our Clan." The last life she received was painless. As she felt the life flood into her tired body she saw each member of her Clan, looking at her with expecting eyes. The image faded, and she was left staring at the row of friends and family standing now in a half-circle around her.

"I hail you by your new name, Dewstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of ThunderClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity."

The whole of StarClan began to chant, in one voice yet many voices. It echoed around the clearing of Fourtrees- "Dewstar! Dewstar! Dewstar!"

The echoing still rang in the new leader's ears when she opened her eyes, staring at the now dimly-glowing Moonstone. She blinked, and then turned to look at the form of Swiftpaw, who had curled up next to her and fallen into his own dream, no doubt of chasing butterflies or running through the forest. She rose to her paws, nudged his shoulder, and said, "Let's go."


OOC: OH MY GOODNESS. THIS THING TOOK THREE DAYS TO WRITE, YOU HAD BETTER APPRECIATE THIS.

OOC: Yay! Dewstar! Wow thats long, nice job :3