Pricklepaw's MCA Ceremony

When Pricklepaw staggered back in from the post-war meeting, scratches still relatively fresh and completely painful, all he could do was stumble over to his nest and collapse in it. They had no medicine cat of their own, so all they could really do was try their best to ease the pains that they all had. Though he'd been knocked out and suffered a bad blow to the head, there were others that had it far worse than him, so he'd just gruffly refused their attentions, made sure all his siblings were still alive, then hidden in the apprentice's den. He let out a sigh of relief as he fell into his mossy nest, exhausted limbs spreading out in an undignified but entirely comfortable manner. That nightmare of a battle was over, and the Clans had won... or so it appeared. StarClan had come to their senses... or so it appeared. There were still hundreds of problems, including StarClan's apparent disloyalty and their lack of a medicine cat, but none of those were his problem and all of them could wait until the morning. So decided, the spiky-furred apprentice promptly ignored his stinging wounds and fell immediately into a deep and unshakable sleep.

Unfortunately for him, it wasn't very restful. The moment that he closed his eyes, they were immediately open again, and he was standing in a forest of unimaginably tall trees. They tapered towards the sky, stars gleaming in their branches, and he couldn't tell where they ended and Silverpelt began. However, his eyes were drawn from staring up at the beautiful sky when he noticed that there was another cat sitting there, staring at him. A large black tom with scars and inscrutable eyes was glaring at him- so Pricklepaw glared right back. "What is it? Why are you here? After recent events, I'm in no mood for a StarClan visitation. Nor is any other cat with a sound mind."

The black tom snorted. "Nice to meet you too, mouse-brain. Apprentices these days! No respect for their ancestors." Pricklepaw scoffed, his long and spiky tail twitching irritably. Who was this cat anyway? "My name is Nightfire, a former medicine cat of ThunderClan, and a former warrior of ThunderClan. I've come to give you a message."

The apprentice just rolled his eyes. This was unbelievable. "And why do I care about your message, exactly?"

"Shut up, kid," Nightfire snarled. "I didn't come into your dreams just so you could bad-mouth me."

"Then maybe, you shouldn't have abandoned the Clans and made us deal with-"

"Shut up!" Suddenly, Pricklepaw found that he couldn't speak. His mouth moved furiously, but no sound came out. The large black tom looked very satisfied with himself. "As I was saying, you insolent kit, StarClan has seen fit- though I can't fathom why- to make you ThunderClan's new medicine cat apprentice. Congratulations. You're welcome." Pricklepaw stopped trying to talk- his mouth just gaped open in absolute horror and disbelief. This had to be a joke. "It's no joke. ThunderClan needs a new medicine cat, and you're the one for the job. Dreamleaf broke the news to me, and made me run over here and tell you instead. Though honestly, I have much better things to be doing than fooling around with an overgrown kit who disrespects StarClan."

After a few more moments of silence, Pricklepaw was finally able to talk again. Something was welling up inside him, making him feel like he was going to vomit. His paws trembled, and his ears lay pinned back against his head. He felt sick, nauseous. This couldn't be true. "You- you can't do this to me," he finally said, shakily, all the anger gone out of his voice and replaced with pleading. "Please. I want to be a warrior. I want... I just..."

Something that might have been sympathy flashed in the StarClan tom's yellow eyes. "I didn't want the job either- it's not about wanting the position. But you got it anyway, because you're the cat we need. Not the one I want, certainly, but you're the right one."

What Nightfire was saying finally finished crashing in on him, and the tom felt shattered. How could they do this to him? He was going to be a warrior... he was going to serve his Clan... he was... he.... Medicine cat. No. An incomprehensible weight of grief and disappointment and resentment settled in on his shoulders, weighing him down and making him feel like he would just curl up into a little ball and die. A tiny little choked noise escaped from his throat, and stinging tears rolled down his cheeks even as he felt the hot shame from them burning in his chest. This couldn't be...

Eventually, Nightfire just vanished, and Pricklepaw sat alone, crying under a cold, uncaring sky of stars.



When he finally woke up, more exhausted than he had been before, it was the middle of the night. Every other cat was sleeping in their nests, relieved that the battle was over, relaxed and oblivious. He no longer had that privilege. Though a pit of burning resentment still lay in his stomach, Pricklepaw just felt... tired. All of that crying had taken something out of him, all the fight he'd had earlier, though he was sure that it would come back later and he could rage against StarClan all they wanted. First, they had to break him and make him compliant... cooperative enough to do just what those fox-hearts wanted him to do. He would go to Leopardstar, accept the position, and then cry himself to sleep.

Feeling ages older, the large fluffy tom stepped quietly out of his nest, looking with regret on the faces of his Clanmates and siblings. Hailpaw, Gladepaw, Ridgepaw... maybe even Bearpaw. He thought he'd be sharing a warrior ceremony with them soon. Feeling a choking sensation threatening to rise to the surface again, he hurried out of the apprentice's den, knowing that if he stayed any longer he'd break down again. At least he could bear this punishment with all the strength he could muster. It was the only way he could be a warrior in any sense of the word now, StarClan had seen to that.

Miserable and resigned to it, Pricklepaw made his way into the leader's den, prodding the golden-spotted leader with a paw and waiting in silent unhappiness for him to wake up. When the tom's eyes finally fell on his face, the apprentice sighed and looked away. His eyes squeezed tightly shut. He really didn't want to do this... but he had no choice. "Leopardstar, I... I had a dream. StarClan says I have to be the new medicine cat apprentice." His voice was tiny and strangled, very unlike his normal brash tone, and he fought back to keep any more sadness from escaping. When he opened his eyes again, the sage-green depths had a spark of defiance back in them. He wouldn't take this lying down. "But I'm not going to like it."

Leopardstar's first restful sleep in a long, long time was suddenly cut short by the sensation of a paw pressed against his sore shoulder, making the groggy leader flinch away slightly as his half-awake brain protested being disturbed, but he couldn't ignore something that might be an emergency, no matter how much his tired body yearned for relief.  With a low disgruntled murmur, the tom's hazel eyes opened half-way, bleary and squinted as he slowly shifted in his nest to rest upon his belly, forepaws tucked under his singed chest.  Twitching his ears and blinking rapidly, he finally was able to make out who had woken him; the spiky mass of fur an instant giveaway.  "Uhhrg...P-Pricklepaw?  His hoarse voice rang with confusion; why was an apprentice waking him instead of Marshstorm, or one of the senior warriors?  And why this late at night?  Had an overlooked Exile followed them home, or had someone passed on in the night?  His heart beginning to thump more rapidly in his chest, the golden spotted tabby listened closely as the younger tom began to explain; instantly, he felt a deep wave of relief wash over him.  Oh, thank StarClan!  Finally some good news...  Very quickly shaking himself awake, the long-legged tom stretched out and stood up before answering, gazing down at Pricklepaw with an unreadable expression.  "Then we must go now, there's no time to waste."

As he emerged from his stone-walled den into the cold night, Pricklepaw's resentful last words sounded in his mind.  He was well aware of the tom's passion to become a warrior and defend the clan, and it was quite clear that this change of plans was quite unwelcome.  However, Leopardstar knew very well that at times, sacrifices must be made for the good of the clan.  This was an important lesson every young clan cat needed to learn...though most cases usually didn't involve this much change.  As he ducked inside the medicine cat's den he contemplated on the fact that, out of any of the other apprentices, Pricklepaw would not have been the cat he would've chosen to fill this important role.  In such desperate times though he was not one to argue, and gathered up two bundles of traveling herbs from the remains of Mapleleaf's old stock.  From going on so many journeys to the Moonstone during his moons as deputy, he remembered the ingredients by heart and soon backed out of the fern tunnel to place one of the piles in front of the pale ginger tom waiting outside.  "Since you have not yet traveled to the Moonstone as all warrior apprentices must do, I will guide you there.  Eat these herbs to give you strength for the journey; you'll need it."  Gulping down his own mixture, he was almost numb to the revolting tang at this point.  Besides, having so recently experienced the horrible metallic flavor of blood, the leaves almost tasted like honey.

Pricklepaw was almost surprised by how readily Leopardstar accepted the news. Then again, what reason would I have to lie?... who would actually want to be a medicine cat? Shaking his head at himself, trying not to look as depressed and upset as he was, the apprentice followed his leader over to the medicine cat den, where he would have to move his nest when he returned. He looked at all the herbs with distaste, knowing that soon he would have to learn all of their names and effects. He swallowed down the traveling herbs without complaint; the taste was nowhere near as bitter as the destiny that StarClan had imposed on him. Stop pitying yourself. Sage-green eyes flat, the spiky-cream-furred tom stood back up, ready to go to the Moonstone- if "ready" meant "he'd rather die first". Yet somehow, any desire to fight this had gone out of him, by means he assumed were not natural. He was sure that all the fury waiting inside him at this injustice would resurface the moment that the deal was done, but now all he wanted to do was get his stupid name so he wouldn't have to be around Leopardstar anymore. "Let's get this over with."

Once Pricklepaw had swallowed down the small stack of herbs, Leopardstar rose to his paws, eyeing the medicine cat apprentice-to-be skeptically as his long tail flicked back and forth above the muddy ground.  For a moment, it looked as if the leader was contemplating on saying something but seemingly decided against it as he nodded stiffly, blinking his hazel eyes to adjust to the darkness as they set off into the night.

Even though the traveling herbs did their job, fueling his tired body to keep going despite how badly he wanted to turn around and collapse back in his soft nest, they did nothing to stop the persistent stinging across his burned flank, or the way his very bones ached from crashing down hard onto the flaming ground.  Complaining though was far from his mind; naming a new medicine cat for the clan was far more detrimental than the mere pain...and he hoped that Pricklepaw realized that.  They remained in silence until the duo crossed over the WindClan border before Leopardstar finally broke the tense air.  "I know this must be...disappointing for you Pricklepaw, but as a medicine cat I believe you will be able to bring so much more to the clan than as just another warrior. To follow the path StarClan has called you on takes courage of a different caliber than most posses...I know I definitely couldn't have handled the job.  Leaping into a fight in defense of your clan is remarkably easy compared to what cats like Goldeneye and Mintwhisker have to deal with on the daily; their efforts and skill in healing the wounds caused by another's claws should not be underestimated.  Without medicine cats, the clans would not have survived long enough for you to fight in their name; this is an honor Pricklepaw, not a death sentence."  The tom didn't realize he had stopped walking until his speech concluded, but after allowing a moment to let his words sink in he continued the pace, leading the way towards where the luminescent moon hung peacefully in the star-speckled sky.

The traveling herbs gave him some strength for sure... but by the time they reached WindClan territory, Pricklepaw was ready to collapse again. He still had wounds from the battle, and his sleep had been nowhere near restful with that rude medicine cat intruding in his dreams. It took all his effort just to focus on putting one pawstep in front of the other one, and now Leopardstar was trying to talk to him. Gritting his teeth in pain and annoyance, the apprentice just let the words flow in one ear and out the other, ignoring the words about how the complete redirecting of his life was supposed to be an "honor." How thick did the leader think he was? "Sure," he grunted eventually, tone noncommittal as he just tried to keep walking through the fog of exhaustion encroaching in on him from either side.

When they finally got to the Moonstone, walking through the dark tunnels as if he knew where he was going when he was really just following Leopardstar's every step, he managed to feel awed at the sight of the towering, glowing stone even through the pain he felt. It was beautiful... but then he remembered why he was there, and his anger at StarClan, and suddenly the tall monolith of crystal was just a giant, sparkly stone. That was all. The moon shone down on it coincidentally... that was all. Knowing what he was supposed to do, however, the spiky-furred tom lay down and pressed his nose to the stone, dropping instantly to sleep with no effort at all on his part, letting exhaustion take over.

Of course, he wouldn't get any rest this time, either. There was the big black-furred tom again, looking down at him, the second he opened his eyes. Pricklepaw looked away immediately, sage-green eyes narrowed at the grass underneath his paws, not wanting to look at the medicine cat.

"Don't be like that," Nightfire sighed, voice still gruff but less harsh than it had been. "It won't be as bad as you think. You might even like it." In response, the apprentice just glared. The scarred black tom sighed again. "So be it."

The night around them suddenly grew quiet, and Pricklepaw noticed with astonishment that the grass that he'd been looking at suddenly wasn't there anymore. In fact, he wasn't standing on anything at all. The two toms were just floating in the dark, cool night sky, surrounded by complete blackness and glowing stars. It was strangely peaceful, despite the fact that he could probably fall at any moment. The shimmering silver pinpricks of light were all around him, filling every single inch of sky, and he knew that there were far more stars beyond his vision that he couldn't see. They whispered unintelligible words to him, with feelings of comfort and reassurance and peace. A chill crept under his pelt, but his eyes were opened too wide in awe to notice. Finally, Nightfire spoke up again, and his voice was much different- it had layers to it, seeming to speak in unison with the whispering voices from the stars. Among the sounds he didn't recognize, a few voices stuck out to him... was one of them Beepaw?

"Pricklepaw," the stars said through Nightfire, "is it your wish to enter the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?"

Surrounded by light and darkness, suspended between two opposites, the completely different tom just stared into the stars, his eyes reflecting their own. Any trace of resistance was gone now in this otherworldly field of majesty. "It is," he whispered in accordance with the stars, not even thinking about his own words. All of his anger at StarClan for what they had done had dissipated into the darkness and he didn't even think about it, though he knew that somehow he would once the dream freed him.

Nightfire nodded. "Then come forward." Half-dreaming, half-conscious, the completely bedazzled apprentice slowly drifted up to the stars' mouthpiece, looking into the tom's eyes and seeing all of Silverpelt reflecting there. "Warriors of StarClan, I present you with this apprentice," the medicine cat called out into the dark, and Pricklepaw knew that they were listening. "He has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant him your wisdom and insight so that he may understand your ways and heal his Clan in accordance with your will."

A feeling of approval radiated from the chilly night, and suddenly a plethora of images bombarded Pricklepaw's senses. A thousand memories of running through grassy fields, picking herbs in the sunlight, feeling cool water stream across his paws, the tongue of a loved Clanmate on his pelt, the joy at bringing kits into the world, eyes of cats dead and living at his paws, smells of catmint and tansy and yarrow, heat of the sun, chill of the snow, hard stone on his pads, honey down his throat, fire in his veins, song in his heart. How long this happened, he had no idea, but it seemed that he stood suspended in the air with the memories and feelings and lives of every StarClan cat coursing through his body for as long as time itself and as short as the blink of an eye to the wisdom of ages. With a single last image imprinted hard on his eyelids, Pricklepaw was released and left gasping for breath, galvanized and exhausted, full of energy yet somehow drained. A single truth flitted across his mind like an elusive butterfly, then escaped. He had seen... he had seen everything.

"Go," the stars said.



Then Pricklepaw awoke once more, stunned and full of emotions he didn't recognize, cold and hot at the same time. He didn't know what had happened, but he... he was a medicine cat apprentice now.

And Bearpaw hadn't killed his brother.