Crowpaw's Warrior Ceremony

"All cats old enough to run the moor, gather beneath the Tallrock for a clan meeting!" Finchstar raised his muzzle to the chilled leafbare air, a spark in his mew as the tom watched from above. WindClan arose from the heather, beautiful souls dressed in pelts of stripes and spots. Dappleshine carried Raventail's kits, Aspenheart had found a pupil, and Finchstar felt young once more. A smile crossed his maw as he gazed at a particularly special cat, however. Crowpaw sat near his mother and father, Goldengale and Grousefrost. The black tom remained steadfast despite all WindClan had endured, acting with a noble heart in the face of his father's deafness. Finchstar smiled. It was time he bore a name to match his spirit.

Downpaw was making his way into the camp entrance, a rabbit in his jaws, when he heard his mentor, and leader's, call. Setting the rabbit down, he hurried to take a spot by the Tallrock. What was happening now? Was there a battle? A ceremony? A death? Sickness? No, no. Softpaw would have told him if it were sickness. He tail twitched with excitement. Where were Clovertwist and Barleytuft? Did they know what was about to happen?

Olivepaw made her way out of the apprentice den into the clearing at the summons. Shaking the moss out of her fur, she stayed back until all the moss was gone, and sat down once she was satisfied that her pelt was clean.
I wonder whose ceremony this is!

This was a momentous occasion for all of the Graybriar and Barleytuft kin, and all of WindClan as well: today, Barleytuft's first grandkit, Crowpaw, would be receiving his warrior name. Barleytuft stood beside his eldest son, Clovertwist, both hovering at the edge of the sandy clearing in anticipation of what was to come. Both tabby toms focused on Finchstar as the ginger-and-white leader appeared and began to spring up to the Tallbranch. Flashing his father an excited grin, Clovertwist quickly turned and found a spot in front of the leader.

Barleytuft spotted Downpaw, his youngest son, and smiled, waving his tail to beckon him over. The three sat together, and Barleytuft leaned over and rumbled, "There's about to be a ceremony; remember to listen respectfully until it's over." He licked the top of Downpaw's head affectionately and wrapped his tail around his son, smiling at him. Then Barleytuft turned his head away, looking around for his other kin - especially Goldengale and Crowpaw. It was am important day for them both. And Grousefrost... would he be attending the meeting? After everything that had happened... The senior warrior frowned slightly. He would come for his son, wouldn't he?

Crowpaw padded out of the den, pelt buzzing with excitement. There were no other apprentices of age, and Finchstar was at the rock. This had to be his ceremony! He looked around for Spotlake, and his father. Goldengale, he knew would be out soon. The young tom flashed a grin at his grandfather and uncle, skidding to a stop beside them. He wondered what his name would be. Maybe Crowheart? Crowtalon had a nice ring to it. The tall cat sat down, unable to keep his tail from twitching.

Spotlake padded towards tall rock as soon Finchstar called. It was clearly a warrior ceremony. Crowpaw’s warrior ceremony. Spotlake padded to be jus behind Crowpaw and gave him a soft smile.

Goldengale heard the call as she was returning to camp, carrying a small bird and a larger rabbit in her jaws. Alarm flashed in her eyes as she panicked, fearing that she might have spent too long out hunting, she had tried to keep a close eye on the sun as she was out, but perhaps the episode she had earlier had taken more time than she thought. Her paws picked up speed until she burst into camp, breathless with wide eyes, searching for her son. Finally she spotted him near her father and brother, the ceremony not having started quite yet. Thank StarClan, I didn't miss it.... She thought as she deposited her prey on the pile and padded over to join her son.

Stopping at this side, she stood for a heartbeat just looking at him before closing the distance and placing her chin on his head, a purr rumbling in her chest as she held him close, proud tears welling in her eyes. "You've done so well, Crowpaw, I'm so proud of you. You're ready, I know you are.
I love you." She licked the top of his head once before stepping back, eyes shining with affection. Sitting down, head held high, she willed her paws to hold her up and not give out through the ceremony, the last thing she wanted was to let her son down. As she settled in, she looked around for Grousefrost nervously. Would he be coming? Oh stars, had he even heard the call? Surely some cat would tell him... Right?

The clan gathered together, pelts bolden and bright, only straightening Finchstar's grin. "Crowpaw." He mewed warmly, yellow eyes creased in compassion. "Step forward." The black tom had grown both in spirit and in height. He was brave like his mother and determined like his father. But Crowpaw was also his own cat, a unique spirit upon the moor. Finchstar's tail curled in excitement at what was to come.

This is it. Today. After so long. Crowpaw nudged Goldengale in appreciation, unable to still his tail, flicking with excitement and nerves. He hoped he’d be able to serve his Clan long and well, raising kits with Spotlake, protecting camp, running the moors. “Thanks, mom. I love you, too.” There was so much else he could say, but his main focus today was on Finchstar.


Short, stubby grass crunched under dark gray paws as he padded towards Tallrock. A thought flashed through his mind, suddenly, as he was approaching. Grousefrost. Where was his father? Was he even aware that the ceremony was happening? Ah well. He’d find him afterwards, spend time with him. Try to show him his new name. He flicked an ear, dismissing his thoughts as he paused at the bottom of the stone, waiting for his leader to speak again.

The black tom's head bobbed around the clearing, and Finchstar wondered what he could be looking for. The leader smiled and knew that that same curiosity would not be cut off by just a name. Crowpaw would be the same as always. "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." The clanmates surrounding Finchstar brought him life, and he smiled brightly with the sun. "Crowpaw, do you promise to uphold the code, and protect and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"Then by the power of StarClan, I give you your warrior name." Finchstar purred. "Crowpaw, from this moment forward, you will be known as Crowspirit. StarClan honors your bravery and loyalty, and I am proud to welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan." The leader smiled as he leapt down from the Tallrock, tail raised high. The black tom before him had a soul like no other, and Finchstar wished to give him a name that honored it. He meant Crowspirit's side and bumped his head against the tom's. "I have not meant a braver cat, Crowspirit. I am glad you are here, and I am honored to call you friend." The leader's tail curled as he shouted the newest warrior's name into the sky.

"Crowspirit! Crowspirit! Crowspirit!"

Crowspirit's heart felt like it wold burst out of his chest with pride. Crowspirit. It was perfect. As Finchstar came towards him, he dipped his head, a massive grin on his face. "And I'm honored to call you my leader. Thank you, Finchstar. I hope to serve you, and my Clan, for a very long time." He stood for a moment, breathing, enjoying the moment. He had survived to warriorhood, despite everything. He was proud, so proud, to finally be able to call himself a WindClan warrior. Finally, he raised his head, hurrying over to Spotlake. "Tomorrow, just before sunrise in the flower fields. I want to tell you something, before I sleep off my vigil." The white-patched tom whispered, chuckling, lying his tail over the molly's back. Hopefully Finchstar wouldn't mind him leaving his post a few minutes early.

Spotlake smiled as Crowpaw became Crowspirit. When Crowspirit went over to her to meet him at the flower fields she nodded. "Congrats on becoming a warrior!" Meowed Spotlake loudly. She then stepped back to let Goldengale congradulate her son.

A flash of a golden pelt at the entrance of the camp caught Barleytuft's eyes, and he focused his gaze on the swiftly-moving shape of Goldengale. His tail swished with relief as his gaze softened; their eyes met, father and daughter, and Barleytuft nodded in assurance that she hadn't missed the big day. He turned back to the Tallrock as the Clan finally settled. Finchstar sat waiting patiently, his face split with his characteristic grin. He was truly a proud, eager tom. Barleytuft looked up at him with a fondness, thinking wistfully of their days on the moors training and running together - remembering joyfully when Finchbreeze had received his name. It was Crowpaw's turn today, and the dark tom was quick to answer the leader's call.

Clovertwist sat beside his father, a look of eager excitement on his face. As a family they watched, listening to the familiar words as they rolled over camp. The vow was taken, and then Crowpaw was no longer and apprentice: his name was now Crowspirit, a testament to his perseverance and dedication to help in the horrendous face of the beast-cats. He had been strong then, and he was strong now. The moment that Finchstar had finished welcoming the Clan's newest warrior, Barleytuft rose to his paws beside a more energetic Clovertwist, and together they yowled their kin's new name:

"Crowspirit! Crowspirit! Crowspirit!"
"Crowspirit! Crowspirit! Crowspirit!"

Clovertwist quickly began to move forward towards Crowspirit, but he stopped when he saw who his nephew was heading for. He grinned and, with a cheeky look, he spun back towards Barleytuft and moved to stand before him. "I suppose I'll have to wait to congratulate him like everyone else. I could've guessed who he'd want to talk to first," the silver tom commented with a chuckle to his father. He turned back around then and moved towards Crowpsirit, who now had an opening - if he beat the tom's mother there.

Barleytuft listened to his son's comment and smiled, having seen the soft interaction himself. His heart ached with memory. He remembered his warrior ceremony... his vigil. He had held feelings for another she-cat, Oakberry, then. They shared a vigil and hunted together early the next morning. He wondered with familiar feelings of peace and happiness if the two newly named warriors might share a similar experience, too. Clovertwist padded off then to congratulate them, but Barleytuft stayed still, dipping his head from a distance before seeking out his daughter's eyes and nodding proudly.

Clovertwist butted Crowspirit's shoulder the moment he arrived at his nephew's side. "That's a great name - Crowspirit!" he praised. "Graceful and strong like you. I'm happy for you." Then he dipped his dark-striped head and turned away, padding off to find some place to stretch his tail in peace.