Houndpaw's Warrior Ceremony

It was time.

Oakstar watched the clan through somber amber eyes. His gaze on the brown and grey pelt of an older apprentice who had been through more hardship than most cats his age. The only one he could think of going through harder times was little Dacepaw, who seemed eager to be Houndpaw’s friend. He felt gratitude in his chest as he leapt onto Highrock.

For a third time, Houndpaw’s life would be directly affected by a ceremony. The second time Oakstar himself headed it, and fortunately for Houndpaw, it was a good one. The memory of that rainy night… with the young tortoiseshell she-cat, who had so carelessly left her own kits to die. As he recalled the fox, the bush and the blood, his paws clenched onto the stone.

He shook his head violently to clear away the memory that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Taking a step forward as he yowled his summons for the clan he loved.
"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath Highrock for a clan meeting!" His call was loud, it echoed through the peace of the quiet leaf-fall afternoon. He settled down comfortably onto Highrock, waiting with a notable patience as he wrapped his tail around his paws and smiled down at the cats assembling.

Dacepaw had wanted to go out training with Dawngaze again today; their successful battle against an owl several days ago had inspired the little tortoiseshell for battle training, to see how her captivating mentor was always so skilled and so strong. She was disappointed when she was told they'd have to wait - that there was a ceremony planned for after sun-high that they would need to attend. She did perk up at that. She loved watching ceremonies. She was always eager to see whose lucky day it was, who had earned their new name or which mentor or what everyone thought of them in their training.

When Oakstar's voice rang out, at long last as expected, Dacepaw was stalking and playing with a bug. The bright young she-cat immediately abandoned her source of amusement to scamper swiftly towards the Highrock, her plume of a tail high in the air. Instantly her green-hazel eyes were searching for Houndpaw and Duskpaw - she thought they liked ceremonies, too, and she wanted nothing more than to sit beside her best friends. She settled herself down in Oakstar's presence and beamed a grin up to him before resuming her search.

The tom's ear flicked at Oakstar's call. It was his mild respect of the warrior life that drew him forth, and the fact that already near the base of the rock was Dacepaw. While the leader had taken up some semblance of an adoptive fatherhood, Houndpaw had never prescribed to such a thing. In fact, he had sought to actively evade any cat who tried to make up for his shattered parentage. Pity was something abhorrent to him. It was what had helped to draw such an abrasive and prickly attitude from the young apprentice, at least to most cats. His own inability to handle discomfort was buried underneath a sharp and often unfriendly tongue. Dacepaw was one of the ones spared. At least for the most part. As he settled down at her side, tail lazily strewn out behind him, the dusty-coated tabby glanced up at Oakstar for a moment. After looking for Duskpaw, he finally spoke, "So what dull announcement do we get to sit through today, Dacepaw? You think the old cat is finally going to announce his retirement?" Houndpaw's words teased slightly, although he attempted to force a light venom into them. Oakstar had hardly been leader for a moment. But to Houndpaw, it seemed like a whole lifetime.

Oakstar met Dacepaw’s smile, glancing pointedly at Houndpaw for a moment while he waited for the last of the clan to gather.
"I have called you all here because one of our apprentices is ready to become a warrior." He began, his gaze turning to Beartooth for a brief moment before falling down to Houndpaw, smile still on his muzzle. "Houndpaw, step forward."

"I, Oakstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn. Houndpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?" As he repeated the familiar oath, he watched the ready-to-be-named warrior. He had been through so much, so young.

With his father as deputy, Oakstar spared a thought for how little time they had spent together. Perhaps he should take the morning patrol… to let Beartooth have some time with his son. For now however, he had a ceremony to finish.

✧ Houndpaw, step forward.

He did so, without much thought into it. The idea of gaining a warrior name had always been something at the back of his mind, an inevitable step in his journey as a clan cat. But for some reason, Houndpaw had never dwelled on it for too long like some other cats did. It was merely a matter of life. And yet, as he padded forward, all eyes were on him. He stood straight as possible, with his chest forward, as he presented himself before the clan. It was the idea that some did not like him, combined with the craving for ever cat's admiration, that he now longed for a warrior name. Dacepaw would be watching, Duskpaw would be watching and... he followed Oakstar's brief gaze flicker. Beartooth would be watching. He swallowed back the thoughts of his real father, a sneer threatening to flash across his maw, as he looked at Oakstar.

As the leader called for an answer, a devotion, Houndpaw fixed his gaze, and what he hoped was the loudest and strongest answer ever, he proclaimed, "Yes, Oakstar. I do."

Did he mean it? That was a question and a thought for another time. But devotion to anywhere else had always seemed out of the question, even if his views on the warrior code were more lax than some. Thunderclan was his home and it always would be. ✧

✢ The deputy gathered with the rest of the clan. He knew who this ceremony was for. Houndpaw's warriorhood was long overdue and with a visit to the moonstone, it was now time. Oakstar had mentioned it to him in passing. And as he received the knowing look from his former mentor, Beartooth swallowed. He had sought all these moons to see Houndpaw as nothing more than another kit, another apprentice born into the clan, and now on his way to being a new warrior. The leader had always subtly hinted that he sound be more involved in his son's life. But to consider Houndpaw his son was to acknowledge the existence of Ridgelight. He had grown up with her, and the events that unfolded brought about unspeakable pain that he hardly had the time or desire to acknowledge. His green gaze flickered to the ground as Houndpaw spoke. Perhaps Oakstar was right and they should spend time together. At least, he should not actively avoid a clanmate right? Tomorrow he could consider it. For now, the bulky warrior was contented to his usual silence. ✢

Oakstar watched as Houndpaw stepped forward, the younger tom’s bold declaration of acceptance practically rang through camp. He closed his amber eyes for a moment, thoughts running through the many different names that suited this bold and stubborn young tom. Who, despite his abrupt and sometimes arrogant nature, held a good heart in his chest. The name sprang to him suddenly, and his eyes opened with a clear gaze direct on the young tom.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Houndpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Houndheart. StarClan honors your loyalty and fierce commitment, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan." He smiled as the ceremony concluded. "Rest well for your vigil tonight." His gaze flickered over to Beartooth, with a steady nod. He hoped that his father would speak to the young tom, but for now he joined in the cheering of the cats who revelled in the new name.

Harefoot laid outside the medicine den, tail flicking and smile wide. He was pleased that his apprentice was finally a warrior, and also glad that Houndheart hadn't gotten himself killed while Harefoot had been confined to camp due to his injuries. The wounded warrior stood carefully to his paws, tottered over to his newest denmate, and bumped his cheek gently against Houndheart's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Houndheart." Harefoot meowed softly in measured breaths. But he knew the stubborn tom wasn't fond of parental behavior, so the older cat simply left it at that and hoped he wouldn't be counted as another nuisance as he ambled back to the medicine cat's den. He would have joined the cheering if it weren't impossible for him to catch his breath.

The happy apprentice's eyes found Houndpaw at last, already making his way towards her with his usual bored expression. Houndpaw didn't like meetings as much as Dacepaw did, but he had good reasons! They could be boring, and he'd had his entire life to get his fill on ThunderClan ceremonies. Still, she was grateful that he stayed with her. She made a soft trill to welcome him, and after he sat lazily and they both scanned again for Duskpaw, the tabby tom questioned whose ceremony it must be. Dacepaw purred at his joke, replying without noticing his bitterness, "I don't think so! It was really sad when Leopardclaw was forced to step down, and Oakstar doesn't look sad."

In fact, as Dacepaw's glimmering green-hazel eyes sought Oakstar's face again, their eyes met. The dark leader's face held a knowing expression - amusement almost - as he glanced to Houndpaw at her side. Dacepaw looked over at him as well, then back up to Oakstar. Her purr hesitated, and then strengthened. Her tail twitched as a subtle question - Is this Houndpaw's ceremony? Her excitement skyrocketed. Once the Clan had gathered, Oakstar called everyone's attention to him, and instantly Dacepaw was leaning in, starting to tremble with excitement. The large tom confirmed it: Houndpaw was called forward.

With a gasp, Dacepaw's tail began to sweep behind her, and she immediately turned to nudge Houndpaw forward. He needed no prompting; with a speed and determination she'd only ever seen when he was leading her on an adventure, the tabby tom moved forward to present himself before their leader. It was the same ceremony that Dacepaw had seen pawfuls of times now, but this one felt different. Her heart was fluttering with joy - recognition and appreciation and respect were all that Houndpaw wanted and all he had well earned already - and she watched and listened with an unknowable depth of pride as her friend gave his oath confidently. Dacepaw felt tears swell up in her eyes; the mottled she-cat was overwhelmed with emotion. She sniffled and listened to Oakstar's reply with ears strained forward.

"Houndpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Houndheart." Oakstar cited his loyalty - his "fierce commitment" - and Dacepaw found her paws kneading the ground, her thunderous purr echoing throughout the ravine as she shifted her weight from side to side, pawing with kittish happiness. Those were good qualities. And his strength, and his cleverness, and his adventurousness! And his smile. I wonder if he'll smile about this. She looked at her newly-named friend and immediately sprang towards him, yowling, "Houndheart! You did it, Houndheart!" The tortoiseshell bounded right to his side, butting her thick head into Houndheart's side and rubbing all the way up to his shoulders before leaning away again. Her eyes glimmered with love and joy as she gazed gleefully at her best friend.

From every angle, cats seemed to cheer his name. Houndheart reveled in the sound, ears and legs stretching taller than every before. This was his time. He was at the center of clan attention and not for some tragedy orchestrated by his parents. There was no pity; only celebration. The new warrior offered Oakstar something that could have come across as a smile but was more of a smirk in nature. Shortly in, one particular voice sounded closer than others. And there stood Harefoot. While he had never tried to be the kindest to his long apprenticehood. The worn look on the elder warrior's face but the genuine pride in his eyes was something that the tom had not expected to see. He nodded, a stern face across his maw. Even if he was partial to bitter, joking canter, the young tabby found a growing respect for his mentor, especially since Harefoot didn't ruin the moment with affections that would have driven him back.

"I did, Dacepaw. Finally, after all this time, Oakstar saw how talented I was and wanted me to stand as one of his warriors." As soon as the words left his maw, the she-cat was rubbing up against his side. Houndheart's pelt bristled at the unusual contact. However, much of his apprenticehood had been spent with the tortoiseshell she-cat, and as the scent of her faded, fishy scent reached his nose, the fur flattened. He thought little of it, other than the idea that he found himself happy with the fact that she looked up to him so much. For a brief moment, he considered the fact they wouldn't have nest next to each other tonight, nor for the the next many nights.