Mistypaw's Warrior Ceremony

It had not been long ago that Goldengale had received her warrior name. Finchstar remembered clearly as Barleytuft helped his son from the medicine den to watch his sister move on to the next stage of life. The smiles were in full abundance, pelts warm as they shouted her name into the sky. Mistypaw has trained well under Grousefrost, and had now reached her time as well. Finchstar smiled as he watched her figure from the Tallrock, tail tip flicking in curiosity. It was an interesting thing indeed, to watch these young 'paws as kits, and now to see them stand tall in the light, earning the name of warrior. While their rank nor status did not change the leader's view of them, this was a ceremony all were excited for. Tradition. Thousands of names had been called from this rock, and thousands of more cats had written their stories and passed on. Finchstar respected them in that manner, just as he respected Mistypaw. A fine cat she was. He had no doubt Cloverpaw would make an appearance to watch this occasion once more. Soon it would be the tom's turn. But for now, all the leader could do was visit the 'paw. And time kept trekking on. "All cats old enough to run the moor, gather beneath the Tallrock for a clan meeting!"

Mistypaw padded out in front of the tall rock, her jaw agape in a yawn. Grousefrost had worked her hard that morning, as per usual, so she had just been taking a nap. Her long fur seemed to go in all directions, and it was evident that she had not had time to make herself look presentable, or even bothered to. She didn't know what this meeting was about, so why worry about getting all cleaned up? She was soon going to regret THAT situation.

She sat down, licking her paw and drawing it over her face in an attempt to wake herself up a little more. The least she could do was pay attention to her leader. Especially with how well he had treated her family in the past. She had a lot of respect for the leader for that reason. He had always been kind and just.

Goldengale had just moved to head out of camp for a hunting patrol when Finchstar's voice sounded. Backing up, she came back into the camp and quickly hustled over, stopping at Mistypaw's side. A laugh escaped her at the sight of her sister's pelt, and she groomed the shoulder closest to her carefully. "You look exhausted. Grousefrost worked you hard this morning, didn't he?"

Mistypaw groaned in response to her sister's question, then giggled. "Does he ever not? He is "shaping me to be an efficient warrior", or so he says. I can't be efficient when all my muscles are worn out, though." She joked. She didn't mind her sister grooming her. It actually made it feel like old times, just 4 kits, best friends. Mistypaw missed those times, but she was glad to have some remnants of it still. She needed to realize they were still close, they just had their own lives now. And Mistypaw did know that, did she like it? No, but she knew it.

Barleytuft was grateful for the notification of what was in store for the day; he and Graybriar had murmured with quiet excitement in a secluded place that morning, reminiscing on when their sweet silver daughter was only a kit in the nursery. The senior warrior remembered the days when Mistykit and Cloverkit were inseparable, but ever since Cloverpaw's injury they'd been forced to drift apart under the responsibility of daily life and the restriction of healing. Mistypaw had grown and trained and learned and become a strong, capable young she-cat. Today she would earn her name, and as with Goldengale, Barleytuft couldn't come up with words powerful enough to express his pride and joy.

The cream tabby tom was in the medicine cat's den helping Cloverpaw to his feet when Finchstar called. Cloverpaw had much improved; his movements were a bit stiff, his muscles worn thinner, but his ribs never ached anymore and his tail wasn't hurt by regular movement anymore. Jostling his tail was still enough to take his breath away, and so the apprentice still wore a splint around his tail. Barleytuft led the way out of the den, and Cloverpaw was careful as he followed, keeping his tail close enough to not bump the wall but not so close he'd bump it against his own feet. He'd already done it several times.

When the toms entered the clearing, Mistypaw and Goldengale were already sitting beside her sister. The two tabbies shared tongues. Cloverpaw called out, "Hey! Got room for one more?"

Barleytuft graciously moved out of the tom's way as Cloverpaw rushed carefully over to his sisters. The silver tabby tom sat on Mistypaw's other side, purring, "We think I'll be well enough to start training again after this moon!"

Barleytut sat at Mistypaw's side, letting his tail brush her haunches. The father beamed aside at his children; he, too, had heard talk that Cloverpaw might be able to return to training soon. His son was strong. Stronger than he could have hoped. Today was Mistypaw's day, though. He looked up the Tallrock to gave with wordless joy into his leader and friend's eyes.

Mistypaw was wide eyed as Cloverpaw came from the medicine den, and she even got a little teary-eyed. Her twin was doing so well at recovery, it was an amazing sight to see. She rested her head on her brother's shoulder, not even thinking as to why he had been out. Had she been at her sister's ceremony instead of being a jealous warthog, she would have known what this instance meant. 

"It is so good to see you healing so well, Cloverpaw. I look forward to the day we share a den again." She said, licking her brother's ear. With the three of them hanging out together like this, it felt like things were the way they were supposed to be again. Maybe things could always be like that. "You think that is what the announcement is? Your mentor announcing your return?"

As her brother's voice sounded behind her, Goldengale turned with a bright smile. If Cloverpaw was here, then her suspicion must be true. Casting a sly glance to her father as Mistypaw greet their brother, she caught his eye briefly and searched for the definite answer in their depths. Turning back to her siblings, her tail curled happily at the news. 'Oh Cloverpaw, that's wonderful! I can't wait, you've been healing so well, we'll have to go out on patrol together, just the three of us."

Graybriar sat among her family, feeling blessed as their happy purrs and light jokes weaved around her like a new-leaf breeze. Though sorrow obviously still lingered, the fresh hope of spending time with those she loved was a time-tested antidote to the pain that beleaguered her every day. Watching with wide and joyful eyes as Cloverpaw walked out of the medicine den, almost completely on his own, a bright blossom seemed to rise up from inside her. Goldengale had recently been given her warrior name, and if her eyes didn't deceive her, some grandkits with Grousefrost might be on the way. Mistypaw was about to advance to warriorhood as well... she had been blessed with strong and capable daughters. And Cloverpaw, her beautiful son, was improving steadily, and soon might return to training. Hope was in the air as she snuggled into Barleytuft's side, putting her tail around Cloverpaw as well. Everything seemed to be looking up, for once- and with that thought, she felt some of her depression lift. Everything was going to be okay. As long as a single member of her family still breathed, and with the others safe in StarClan, everything would always be okay. "Hush up, you three," she purred teasingly, "or the meeting will never start. Mistypaw, come here so I can fix your ear fur- it's a little wonky." Her two daughters, golden and gray... her son, growing stronger every second... her amazing mate, who she could never deserve. StarClan had truly blessed her, and it would never do to forget.

Finchstar purred as the family gathered beneath the rock. They were glorious, talking to each other with kind eyes and flicking tails. The leader found his own apprentice below and smiled, knowing soon the silver tabby may be able to venture out on the moor once more. But today, another profound coming-of-age was to take place. "WindClan, as Greenleaf sets and Leaf-fall rises, so does life itself. Goldengale was the first to reach warriorhood, and now it is her sister's turn. Mistypaw, Grousefrost has trained you well. It is time you join the ranks of the warriors and earn your full name. Step forward, 'paw." A large grin rested on the leader's maw as he watched from above. What kind of name could suit such an elegant cat, one who cared and loved like the wind itself? Perhaps Brookclover would whisper something to him as he sat. Barleytuft and Graybriar's children would shine brilliantly.

Mistypaw made her way backwards so that her mother could groom her ear fur. By this point, Mistypaw was getting an itching on what the meeting was about. Everyone's attention seemed to be on her, which was a rather unusual thing nowadays. She looked around with a smile. She didn't care what the meeting was for, it was bringing her family together, even if only momentarily. 

Her suspicions were confirmed, however, when the tabby she cat was called up. Was she really becoming a warrior now? This was the most exciting thing that could have happened to her! She looked at her family, beaming with joy, before standing up and stepping forward. She simply could not wait for what came next.

Mistypaw's eyes were as blue as the sky, sparkling with little whimsies and shiny flecks of adventure. Finchstar purred as he watched the apprentice face her destiny. Ceremonies like these would never get old. Seeing one's face as they thought over their past life, it was interesting to watch the twitch in the whiskers, the flick of a tail. Some were proud of their past, others determined to be something greater. Some shone as bright as the sun, while others held deeper meaning. It was rare as WindClan experienced it, but the support in the clearing was almost tangible. Finchstar would fight, die for this peace that now resided here. And the spark in his clanmates' eyes was worth it a thousand times over. Mistypaw was brilliant, a shining symbol of the hope that laced the camp. A wide grin formed on the tom's maw as he spoke the sacred words, voice ringing from the rock as many others had done before. "I, Finchstar, leader of WindClan call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her as a warrior to you in return." A small breath was exhaled as the leader watched the ryegrass in the distance. It cast shadowy stripes across the clearing, dividing Mistypaw's pelt to be as diverse as the moor itself. "Mistypaw, do you promise to uphold the code, and protect and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Mistypaw smiled, soaking up the moment. While many ceremonies happened every day it seemed, your own ceremony only happened once, and it was something that Mistypaw was going to treasure. Well, she wouldn't be Mistypaw for long. After she spoke the two words expected of her, she would no longer be the 'paw that Finchstar always addressed her as. She would finally be her own cat, and join her family in the warrior's den. Oh stars, this was absolutely amazing!

She stood up tall, thankful her mother and sister had made the wise choice to groom her. How embarrassing that would be to look like the mess she had moments before at her own ceremony! At last, she drew in a breath to speak. "I do. I will gladly make that promise a million times over." There was a crack in her voice. She was so excited, she honestly felt like bursting into tears of joy, and for a moment the watery droplets threatened to fall.

The confidence in Mistypaw's voice rang through the clearing, and the leader was moved. "You are something of an adventurer yourself, 'paw." Finchstar purred, yellow eyes glowing in the sun. A breeze lifted through the camp, heather swishing, ryegrass like a wave. The tom stared down and saw his clan, his lifeblood. A family sat together there, tails tucked in. Stars, how they had grown. Brookclover was there when Barleytuft has returned to Graybriar. And then she wasn't. Time passed, the sun rose, and now stood a new era. A new heart that desired to run and hunt, bred from feelings themselves. Finchstar let out a large grin and spoke to Mistypaw, feeling the ancient pawsteps of those before him in the stone below. "By the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name." Like the shadows of the rye. As graceful as the heather itself. Mistypaw was a silver warrior, a shining light. Mistypaw, from this moment forward, you will be known as Mistystripe. StarClan honors your confidence and care for your clanmates. I am proud to welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan."

Her name rose into the air not but moments later, floating into the sky as the sun rang warm. Finchstar leapt down from the Tallrock and padded toward the newest warrior, yellow eyes gleaming. "I am proud of you, 'paw. Although I guess I cannot call you a 'paw any longer, hmm?" His voice remained light and loving, watching as Mistystripe's family crowded around her in praise. Oh, the honey of the moors. Finchstar would never tire of such a thing.

"Mistystripe! Mistystripe! Mistystripe!"

As Cloverpaw had expected, his sisters both quickly turned their heads to gaze at him with expressions mixed with wonder and joy and pride. If he were a less confident cat he might have felt self-conscious or perhaps even patronized by the looks cats always gave him when he managed to get up and about after his accident. The silver-white tanny tom was incredibly confident, however; though in dark, lonely times of the night he sometimes wondered if he would ever be able to become a warrior like his family, Cloverpaw's waking moments were flooded with moments of affection like these. Mistypaw immediately stretched out to greet him and he licked her ear when she rested her head on his shoulder briefly.

Over their heads, Barleytuft sat beside his mate and his daughter, feeling the greatest warmth he could feel. Goldengale was quick, as always; her shining blue eyes met his dark hazel ones and he nodded ever so slightly as if the pride on his face wouldn't be enough to confirm what she had guessed. The tom purred and nuzzled Graybriar briefly before turning to look up again at Finchstar to wait.

After Cloverpaw's declaration that he would be well enough to return to training soon, Mistypaw and Goldengale both praised him, and he had to fight the strong urge to curl his tail up swiftly. He let it curl slowly and purposefully instead, and he was about to reply with a witty remark to Mistypaw's question about the ceremony when suddenly their mother's voice sounded beside them. Graybriar's tone was chiding but playful, and Cloverpaw rolled his eyes teasingly at her before settling down to watch with amusement as Mistypaw submitted herself to their mother's grooming. The tom teased in true brotherly fashion, "Mom, you can't fix the wonky - that's just Mistypaw."

Almost immediately Finchstar spoke, calling his Clan to order and looking down on them with glinting eyes of pride. Cloverpaw could barely keep from glancing aside at Mistypaw, who looked as though a flicker of understanding had appeared in her eyes, and on the other side of the family cluster Barleytuft felt himself leaning more deeply into Graybriar, his chest rumbling with a soft, deeply content purr. Their leader called Mistypaw forward and the knowledge settled in. Mistypaw's eyes glimmered as she looked from brother to sister, father to mother. Cloverpaw pawed encouragingly at her foreleg, while Barleytuft met her gaze with a knowing nod.

The Clan was enraptured to watch Mistypaw's ceremony. The silver-and-white she-cat gave her oath with a fervor that could make the stars flare with passion, and Barleytuft found himself kneading the ground lovingly at her words. Finchstar's bold words rang over the clearing: "By the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. . . Mistystripe."

Cloverpaw immediately rose to his feet upon hearing her name declared, letting out a spirited yowl in his sister's support as she touched her nose to their leader's shoulder. The Clan began to cheer her name, and Barleytuft was one of the first to join in the rambunctious cry, his eyes streaming with tears as he stood and raced to proudly embrace his newly-named daughter. "Oh, Mistystripe my dear, I couldn't be more proud of you." The cream tabby licked her forehead before stepping away, rumbling, "Our Clan is blessed to have you among the ranks of its warriors, and I'm blessed to have you in my family."

The ancient words of the ceremony rolled through the air, with each cat playing their part- Finchstar ever the benevolent leader, echoing the words spoken by Brindlestar and Ashstar before him; Mistypaw the eager apprentice ready to move on to the next stage of her life. Pride and love filled Graybriar as she watched the ceremony conclude, and her daughter receive her full name... "Mistystripe! Mistystripe! Mistystripe!" Graybriar called, warmth suffusing her voice as she joined with the rest of the Clan. Even through her grief, StarClan blessed her... two warrior daughters, a healing son, a wonderful mate and Clan. She was so lucky, even when she didn't realize it. The senior warrior walked over to embrace her kit, feeling the strong muscles of a warrior beneath her beautiful tabby pelt. It seemed like just last moon she'd been a tiny scrap of fur in the nursery... Oh, she was so proud. "Congratulations, sweetheart," she murmured, joy shining from her often-tired blue eyes as she gazed at the newly named warrior. "You deserve it, you've worked so hard. I'm so, so proud of you!"