Cloverpaw’s Warrior Ceremony

Tensions ran high in WindClan as all around, Finch star’s clan mates prepared for war. Apprentices trained with defensive moves, and queens held their kits closer as the days progressed. Goldengale’s son, Crowkit had been made an apprentice not too long ago. Finchstar knew it was difficult to allow such a young cat from the safety of the nursery, however he’d be safer with some battle training on his side. As morbid as it was, Finchstar knew he needed to accept reality.

Even in the crushing trials of life itself, there was one who remained optimistic through it all, eyes bright, always ready for adventure. Finchstar smiled as he caught sight of him atop the Tallrock. Cloverpaw, his apprentice.

The silver tabby made for a wonderful friend and an even better adventurer. His heart remained open and his spirits stayed bright. It was only right that he should receive his name. It should have taken place long ago, yet Cloverpaw had been victim to a dog’s wrath. His tail was twisted in a strange manner, ribs crushed and pelt scarred. But the apprentice carried with him an everlasting hope, something Finchstar admired greatly. His wonderful apprentice, ready to go beyond where he’d ever been before. “All cats old enough to run the moor, gather beneath the Tallrock for a clan meeting!”

ooc: mobile

Cloverpaw sat before his father, looking up at Barleytuft with joy at the same time as the senior warrior gazed down to him with pride. The silver tabby apprentice's fur was sleek as the sky, shining and glossy and groomed to perfection. Even his tail, which was permanently bent and scarred, had been groomed quite meticulously to hide as many of the more gruesome patches in preparation for the ceremony that was to come. Today he would be receiving his name at long last. He would be able to join his sisters in receiving his full name.

Barleytuft's hazel eyes glimmered with the hint of tears as he purred warmly, "You ready, sprout?" Finchstar's voice called out and Barleytuft's head raised, thoughts buzzing with excitement, before he looked back to his son.

Cloverpaw gazed back over his shoulder towards his mentor but then turned to his father again, grinning. "I'm ready. This sprout's gonna become a tree." His father laughed, and the two of them butted heads for a brief moment before they both moved to make their way to sit in front of Finchstar.

Goldengale made a line straight for her father and brother, eyes gleaming with excitement and pride. Moving to stand on Cloverpaw's open side, she pressed against him lightly. "Hey! Are you ready? I know I sure am!" She purred, the pride and joy of her brother finally receiving his name after everything he had gone through stealing all the trading words she could have possibly thought of. Staying by their sides as they settled in front of Finchstar, Goldengale settled herself, casting a look around for her son and mate. They had such a large, loving family, one she was proud to be part of.

Finchstar's whisker's twitched at Cloverpaw's comment to his father. "A tree you will be indeed. And not just from all the time you've spent with Aspenheart." Finchstar purred and tucked his tail over his paws, gazing out at the gathered clan. "Cloverpaw you have the spirit of a warrior, and now you will carry its name. Step forward 'paw."

It would never cease to amaze Finchstar how a ceremony could lift the mood of a clan. It was as if all their trials were washed away in the face of an excited apprentice, ready to receive his name.

Cloverpaw and his father had just settled when the tom heard his sister Goldengale arrive at his free side. He turned to her as she made herself comfortable, pressing against him for a moment. He nodded vigorously, meowing dryly, "I've been ready since, oh, the day before you got your name. First to become an apprentice, last to become a warrior." Cloverpaw immediately laughed and nudged his sister playfully. The silver tom heard his twin sister, Mistystripe, nearby as well, and he waved his tail brightly at her.

Finchstar called the Clan meeting to order. Immediately Cloverpaw's head snapped back up. His mentor had heard his earlier comment, and he made a witty joke of his own that made both Barleytuft and Cloverpaw snicker with amusement. Then the next words were spoken: the time had come. Barleytuft nodded once, reassuringly, as he gazed to his son and gave him a nudge forward.

Cloverpaw took a breath and look around at his family before turning back to Finchstar, looking up with anticipation and awe and excitement. His whiskers vibrated as he took a step forward, silver tabby pelt glinting in the light, and then another, until he had moved to stand before his leader. He grinned up at Finchstar, pale amber eyes shining.

Barleytuft gave his son a reassuring push forward, and Finchstar watched with a grin as his apprentice padded up to the rock. He looked differently than most cats, with his broken tail and scarred face, but those were the signs of an adventurer. Finchstar chuckled and knew that Cloverpaw had danced with stars even before he was named a warrior. What wonder his older days would yield... "I, Finchstar, leader of WindClan 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 him as a warrior to you in return." A soft, cold breeze gusted through camp, but the leader could only smile. Leafbare would come again, but the memories made here between his friends would never die. "Cloverpaw, do you promise to uphold the code, and protect and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Cloverpaw met his leader and mentor's gaze with a look of desire and determination. The WindClan leader began to speak again, saying the words of ceremonies that had been performed countless times before. This one was different, though: this one was for him. Cloverpaw felt his thin tabby fur ruffle in the breeze as Finchstar laid out the oath for him to take. The sayings felt so much different and held a more powerful meaning when they were spoken for him.

Without hesitating, the WindClan tom replied, "I do." Behind him, Cloverpaw's crooked tail lashed unconsciously as he thought, I did it before; a name won't change that. Yet it would mean the world.

The sacred words rose confidently from Cloverpaw's mouth and Finchstar let out a purr, chest puffed out in pride at the wonderful tom his apprentice and friend had grown into. He was a fine cat, strong, and kind. Finchstar wished to walk beside him forever, to learn from his mannerisms, laugh as they explored. But as life marched on, so did they. Their relationship would change as his and Brookclover's had. But growth was nothing to be feared. Perhaps one day Finchstar would draw battle plans in the sand with his friend, and he'd be there the day Cloverpaw would receive his very own apprentice.

But today was a day of its own, to be enjoyed as all of life was. Grinning proudly, Finchstar spoke the tradition passed down from long before. "Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Cloverpaw, from this moment forward, you will be known as Clovertwist. StarClan honors your perseverance and high spirits, and I am honored to welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan."

The leader's maw broke into a wide smile as he leapt down from his post with quick speed. Cheers of praise rose around him for Clovertwist, but all Finchstar could do was stare at his former student. "An adventurous name for an adventurous cat." He spoke warmly to his friend, purring. "And what many more journeys stretch ahead of us. I am so proud of you, 'paw. Although I guess I can no longer call you 'paw anymore, hmm?" Finchstar's eyes sparkled at the light of day, feeling as free as a bird. Lifting his maw to the sky, he shouted;

"Clovertwist! Clovertwist! Clovertwist!"

Cloverpaw's fine claws slid out once his words were spoken, pricking at the dirt with eager excitement. Finchstar's face became a proud grin as he accepted his apprentice's oath. He declared for the Clan to hear, "Cloverpaw, from this moment forward, you will be known as Clovertwist." The silver tabby tom snickered with an almost kittish delight at the declaration. Maybe some cats would find it cruel to have their injury forever intertwined with their identity, but he had never been shy of what he went through. It was a story he told to anyone who would hear it with eagerness and pride. Even Finchstar cited his former apprentice's optimism and praised it wholeheartedly.

Barleytuft watched with watering eyes as his son followed the traditions that had been laid out for generations. Some part of his mind wondered sadly, Would Quailpaw have become a warrior by now, too? He would've been proud to see his brother grow at last. It was a bittersweet thought, really, for entangled with the grief was overwhelming joy: Barleytuft's first litter of kits with Graybriar had grown up and become strong, confident, independent young cats. Finchstar welcomed Clovertwist as a warrior, and the senior warrior stood immediately, letting out a wordless yowl of approval.

When the leader leapt down, the newly-named Clovertwist's crooked tail raised up in respect and personal greeting. Around them the Clan burst into cheering, but the former apprentice noticed it only for an instant before his attention focused on Finchstar. The two toms gazed into each other's eyes with a connection and understanding that could only be shared between a mentor and their apprentice. Finchstar explained a bit of the strange name, but Clovertwist just shook his head and grinned, adding, "For an adventurous cat, from an adventurous cat. It's perfect." He leaned forward to butt his head lovingly into his leader's shoulder before giving it a lick and then stepping back, his pale amber eyes shining with pride.

The Clan was shouting his name, and Clovertwist loved every moment of it.

Barleytuft raced forward to greet his warrior son, his body practically trembling with eager purrs. "Clovertwist! What a name, and what a tom," the senior warrior laughed heartily, rubbing the uninjured side of his face enthusiastically on his son's. The pair nuzzled for several moments before at last Barleytuft stepped back and meowed, "I'm so proud of you - beyond words."

Clovertwist purred, eyes watering. He gazed around at his family, and his Clan, and his friends, and he marveled at how he could have been so lucky in every single way. I finally made it. I can finally help protect this Clan that has always protected me.

There were no words.

Cloverpaw had truly had a ride of a life- a wonderful kithood, then his apprenticehood had been stomped short by a ruthless predator attack. But he'd gotten right back on his paws and kept going, kept being the wonderful son she knew and loved. There should have been words for her to say... But she couldn't speak. While her wonderful mate, who she hadn't been kind enough to lately, and her kits carried on a lighthearted conversation before the ceremony, she just smiled with eyes full of love. Her wonderful, wonderful son... If he could bounce back so amazingly and stay so cheerful after what he'd been through, why couldn't she do the same? Life would get better. She was sure of it. And while Quailpaw should have been here, she needed to focus on the kits she did have. Briarpaw. Goldengale. Mistystripe. And Cloverpaw... her beautiful Cloverpaw.

Her heart sat in her throat as Finchstar conducted the ancient words, until finally a name passed the leader's lips.

Clovertwist.

A giant grin broke across her face, smiling from ear to ear, and her voice erupted to the sky in joy. "Clovertwist! Clovertwist!" Once the leader backed away, she sprung at her son like she was young again, paws almost tripping over each other in their eagerness. First she let Barleytuft embrace him, then she engulfed him with every inch of her body, purring deeply as if she would never stop. Her ears twitched, and she nuzzled deep into her son's neck... Her son. Oh, he'd grown so big. "Clovertwist... it suits you," she murmured, exultation laced through her voice with an audible smile. "When did you go behind my back and get this big? Oh, my son.... I'm so proud of you."

Clovertwist's pale eyes landed on his mother next, and the young silver tom could only beam at her, choking on his purrs, as she wound herself around him. Without really thinking of it he tucked his tail, feeling rather certain that he'd get it bumped or bent in the commotion. Clovertwist butted his head against Graybriar and rubbed against her cheek and the top of her head as she buried her face in his neck. His ears perked as she leaned her head away ever so slightly and began to murmur loving words of praise to him. His pelt flushed with bashfulness, and he purred, "Thank you, mom - that's all I want. I'll be the best warrior in the world. You'll always be able to be proud of me." He licked her face gently, smiling at his mother with all the love in the world.