Ravenstar's Retirement and Olivestone's Leader Ceremony

As the sun began to peek over the horizon, Olivestone watched the glowing disk rise in the sky, turning the sky pale, from her favorite spot in the flower fields. As the multitudes of flowers around her gently bobbed in the wind, her mind raced, going over the conversation she'd had with Ravenstar the night before. He'd found her and taken her aside to tell her that he was retiring, and that it was her turn at the head of the Clan.

The news had come as a bit of a shock to her, and she'd needed time to clear her head and mentally prepare for the trial of leadership ahead. She'd grown to love her position as deputy, and found that she'd been looking forward to being leader eventually, but she'd hoped for many more moons of deputyship beforehand. Still, that was how things were, and she was ready to accept the responsibilities that were being set at her paws.

She rose to her paws and shook out her coat, and made her way back to the camp and Clan that she called home and family, taking the winding trails carved into the hills by generations of paws before hers, trying to imagine how it would feel to be the leader of the moor and the cats who call it home.

The sun was hovering a good distance above the horizon, not quite sunhigh, when Olivestone arrived back in camp. She quickly caught sight of Ravenstar sitting near the medicine den, and trotted over to him, murmuring,
"I'm ready, whenever you are."

Like many of Ravenstar’s decisions, it had been the accumulation of the smaller things, hundreds of drops of water surging up into a wave. Oakstar’s failure to climb the Great Rock. Aspenheart’s death. Every tiny strand of white fur on Dappleshine’s muzzle; the first streaks of gray scattered across his own. With every passing day, the gap between himself and WindClan grew. He loved his Clanmates because they were Clanmates; he didn’t know enough about them to love them otherwise. Though he had his family, and Zinnia was as close a friend as he could ask for, a dull, lonely ache had lodged itself between his lungs.

He’d been watching the stars on a quiet hill far from camp when the realization had crashed into him. It felt selfish. It felt like running away. But even as he’d recoiled from it, something deep in his heart had clicked into place. He’d always been at his best walking beside the cats he loved, rather than standing above.

Olivestone had needed time to process what he’d told her; honestly, so did he. After being leader for a season and deputy for nearly as long as he’d had his warrior name, Ravenstar couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be anything else. How it would feel to face the cats he loved, living and dead, who’d trusted him with this. How it would feel to be Raventail again when every warrior in the forest, and some outside of it, knew what he’d given up. One night was nowhere near enough for him to wrap his head around it. Maybe he never would. His only certainty was that WindClan would be safe in Olivestone’s paws. Olivestar, he corrected, a smile pushing at the corners of his mouth. It had a nice ring to it.

Moments after he’d had that thought, a gray-striped figure emerged from the gorse. Olivestone had returned. Ravenstar stood to meet her, giving a laugh that wasn’t as steady as he would’ve liked. ”I think I am, too.” That, at least, was true. No matter how he regretted this now or later, no matter the murmurs in his head telling him he was making the same mistake in a different shape, he couldn’t deny the relief welling up inside him. He took a step forward, then paused, wavering on his feet. ”I know I sort of sprang this on you, but…you’ll do great, you know? I’m sure of it.” He’d asked a lot of her, making her deputy during some of WindClan’s darkest days—and she’d proven herself to be as good a cat off the battlefield as she was on it.

A pawful of heartbeats passed before Ravenstar let out a short, quiet sigh. ”…Okay. Let’s go.” With that, he padded forward, dimly aware of the dried grass cracking under his paws. On the far side of the tunnel, he waited for Olivestone to catch up; then he started down the path he and Aspenheart had walked moons ago, matching his pace to his deputy’s.

As the pair padded out of camp and towards Highstones, Olivestone took her familiar place of walking at his shoulder, a small smile on her face. It took a moment for her to realize that after the upcoming ceremony, that she would be taking point for Gatherings instead. She'd only been a deputy for a few moons, but she was surprised with how comfortable she'd gotten in the position.

The pair were comfortable to walk in silence, the only sounds being the grass crunching under their paws and the wind whistling through the stalks as they made their way towards the Moonstone. Sunhigh approached and passed as the sun beat down on their backs, eventually dipping below its peak and making its descent towards the horizon.

The travel was fairly easy, no more difficult than the last time she'd been to Highstones, and Mothermouth stood before them as the last rays of sunlight died, the sun sinking fully out of sight. In an unspoken agreement, they waited a little while longer, and when Silverpelt twinkled silently above them and the moon sailed high in the sky, they descended into the cavern.

The moonstone was still dark when the pair finally sat down, and with a flash, the stone illuminated in all of its starry glory. She gave a nod to Ravenstar, and watched him settle down at the stone.

Olivestone was quick on her feet, and Ravenstar followed her pace as closely as the sticky post-sunhigh heat allowed, and before long—before he’d fully steeled himself to see it—Mothermouth was looming in the distance. With their destination in sight, their journey became a blur. At the cavern’s mouth, they paused to share a look, then settled down outside. Olivestone’s reasons for waiting were a mystery, but he knew his own; a tunnel was a tunnel, sacred ground or not. As quiet as they’d been for the rest of the walk, they watched the sky turn misty, dark, and bright again under the not-quite-full moon; and with another unspoken exchange, Ravenstar, for the first and only time in his life, led them into the dark.

Three times, now, he’d walked through these tunnels. Though he’d never tried to memorize the path, his paws were steady until they reached the cavern where the Moonstone lay. Remembering how his eyes had burned before, the dark-furred tom squinted in anticipation. As they approached, Olivestone composed, Ravenstar hesitant, the rock sat dull and dormant like any other. Then it burst into light, beautiful and terrifying. Through the flood of brightness, he could see Olivestone nodding. Right. He had to go first, or there wouldn’t be any lives to give. He spent a minute or two arranging himself in front of the stone, folding his legs under his chest, pulling his tail tight against his side to ward off the cavern’s chill—but once that was done, he realized he’d run out of things to put between himself and his fears. There was nothing left but to lean forward and face them. Closing his eyes, Ravenstar let himself fall.

When at last he managed to look up, a lone figure was sitting before him, striped tail wound tightly across a set of cloud-white paws. Not Finchstar, Brookclover, or any of the other cats Ravenstar could call family—but a cat he knew. His mouth went dry. All this time, he’d assumed he’d have to look them in the eyes and apologize, explain, say something to justify his choice… He’d assumed they’d be here.

Lightfang’s steady gaze searched him. “They’re not angry with you,” he said, and Ravenstar slumped. Anger was only one option out of many; one reaction ruled out when disappointment, shame, and any number of others remained. But for now, it’d taken the legs out from under the panic before it could build. Maybe they weren’t absent because they’d chosen to be. And if they were…well, he’d be able to give them his reasons someday. Maybe he could be forgiven again. Uncertainty flitted across Lightfang’s features; apparently, the silence had gone on too long. ”Sorry. That’s all I know.”

”No—no, that’s…” Ravenstar lifted his muzzle out of the grass. The rest of him followed. ”That’s good. Thanks.” He shook the stardust off his fur and straightened up to meet the taller warrior’s eyes. There was nothing left to wait for—nothing left to fear. Shifting from paw to paw, he cleared his throat. ”I…I’m ready now.”

"All right." With a nod, Lightfang unfurled his tail and stood. As he breathed in, his posture shifted into something sturdier, far from the cat Ravenstar had known in life. ”Is it your wish to give up your name and return to the life of a warrior?” Formalities, all of it. He couldn’t change his mind after walking all the way here—he didn’t want to. Though his decision had been made over the course of a night, the more he’d thought about it, the more he’d realized the first inklings of it had taken root at the start.

Ravenstar bowed his head. “It is.” That, too, he could be certain of.

A gentle nose pressed against his forehead, and his eyes slipped shut as the lives began to fall away. Even when the first ceremony’s pain had faded, it’d never felt completely right, having nine lives’ worth of wisdom jammed into a heart too small to hold them. Giving them up was no better. He’d gotten used to their weight, made it part of himself as much as he could, and now they were being torn out of him, piece by piece. At last, there was only one. Finchstar’s, he thought dazedly. Maybe mine. Not that it mattered; it was a life for love either way. As Lightfang stepped back, pale mist flooded the grass around them. They were out of time. Through the fog, the starry warrior said something shaped like “goodbye” or maybe “good luck,” and when Raventail blinked, he was in the cavern again.

He laid there a few heartbeats longer, letting his body catch up to his mind. Then he pushed himself up; hobbled to the cavern's mouth, brushing his tail against Olivestone's side in what he hoped was an encouraging gesture as he passed; and leaned against the cool stone wall, turning to watch the Moonstone with a weary smile. Raventail. The guilt lingered, along with an emptiness he couldn’t quite identify, but when he brushed that aside…it felt like coming home.

Olivestone watched as Ravenstar laid down at the Moonstone, taking several moments to settle in a comfortable spot. She briefly wondered how long it would take for him to become Raventail again, and her internal question was answered after a few minutes, when the former leader stood and turned away from the stone, padding past her with a quick run of his tail down her flank for encouragement. She gave him a smile as she took her turn to pad up to the glimmering stone, stars and starlight shimmering in its depth.

She sat, then she laid down, tucking her legs underneath herself, and finally, she pressed her nose to the stone. It was so cold that it almost felt hot, and her nose burned a little as her consciousness faded and she fell into the realm of StarClan.

Almost immediately, she blinked her eyes open to the realm of StarClan, a sea of starry pelts greeting her. The world around them was rolling hills and tall grass, mist hanging low, obscuring the far reaches of the starry moor.
"Welcome, Olivestone." rose a collective voice from the gathered crowd, and subconsciously, her hackles rose from the sheer power contained in those two words, no voice standing out to her as she stepped forward. "Are you ready to receive your nine lives?"

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the ceremony to come.

"I am."

Dark, dappled fur marked by starlight, a three-legged tom stepped out of the ether towards Olivestone. He was smiling nearly as bright as the stars that shone on his pelt as he limped up to his beloved daughter, tears of pride threatening to spill down his cheeks. In life, Elmskip had been sullen and destitute, but in death he was radiant and proud, no longer bearing the scars that had marred him. The former WindClan warrior gave a mighty purr, hobbling closer to Olivestone but not quite touching her.

"Hello, kitten. It’s so lovely to see you again. I’m so proud of you, you’ve come so far.” he mewed, cocking his head gently to one side as he beamed at her. “I do hate to see Raventail go, but I’ve been watching and keeping an eye on you, Olivestone, and I know you’re ready. I just...I truly can’t express how proud I am of you. I know I keep repeating myself…” Elmskip chuckled in spite of himself, sniffling a little as a stray tear or two found their way down his face. “My sweet little kit… I am truly honored to be able to grant you your first life, and I’m certain that you’ll do an amazing job leading WindClan. So, without further ado…”

Elmskip straightened up to his full height. “With your first life, I grant you the gift of family. Be it found family or blood family, it is a very powerful thing, and with this life you will be able to hold your family close. WindClan is your family, forever and always.” The old tom stepped forward and pressed a deep lick to the top of Olivestone’s head. This life wasn’t marked by physical pain, but a deep, inner longing, radiating out from her chest in waves. A sense of warmth and love and fierce loyalty passed over her, and that was all. Elmskip smiled and backed away, returning to the other gathered cats and to his mate, Arcayus. He gave his love a flick of his tail along his flank, gesturing for him to step forward.

The stars here were abnormally peaceful, in a manner than the tom could have never imagined it be so in life. It appeared that he had traveled not in vein, not simply for running from his past, but to find himself in a place that could truly offer such unknown tranquility. His home in the physical realm was said to once possess similar qualities. Perhaps that was why he had grown so fond of it. Even though he hardly shared blood with more than a few cats, learning later of his late brother’s own endeavors through the forest, it felt like this was the place his pelt had always sought. Arcayus knew that even though his paws graced different skies from that of his true ancestors, there would be no resentment from any of his kin in the Oasis. They had always respected the various beliefs of all cats, no matter how absurd; and they knew his reason for being here now.

In life, permanent worry had etched a nervous frown onto his maw, but in moments like these it was creased with a broad smile. The stalky grey and orange tom was never far from Elmskip. The pair of them settled into watchful rest, keeping eye on the kits they’d loved together before his untimely death. As the dappled tail flickered against his coat, a purr rumbled in Arc’s throat. He took a step forward in response to the duty he was now called to. This time honored tradition would bless Olivestone with lives that would aid in the new role laid across her shoulders. Such a young she-cat taking up an enormous responsibility. He had never understood how his father had managed to lead with such grace and poise, managing care and love for all the cats of Oasis. But he had learned that it was drawn from an honest and unimaginable well of care for those that he led. It was the very thing that Arcayus lacked, underneath the guise of Patrick when he had arrived in the forest. Those he loved deserved true and the raw honesty of his weary soul.

Before stepping forward, Arcayus dipped his head, “I approach you, young one, not as Patrick but as Arcayus. My true name is one I once sought to hide due to my own cowardice and shame under circumstances I can’t quite bring myself to explain. But you deserve to know who I am and that I abandoned my kin when they needed me most. I never deserved to love and be loved by you, especially with how wonderful you have turned out to be, my kit.” At first, his voice had maintained levels of control, addressing the ceremony properly. But as he continued there was obvious pain and sadness that drew forth a rasp, and betrayed the truth drawn from his chest. Unadulterated love was drawn from his tongue with this confession. He’d watched her grow and witnessed her warrior ceremony from the stars, never ceasing to celebrate her successes as his own.

Tentatively, the tom stepped forward, and gingerly licked her forehead before meeting her gaze. When he finally spoke again, the soft whisper was strengthened by the authority of Starclan, “For all these reasons, I give you the life of sincerity. Use it to knit bonds with those you care for, and to never lose sight of the truth of who you are.” His head dipped forward, tenderly bushing against the frail skin of her nose as the life was bestowed. It was a roaring thing, intense in all the many ways that brutal honesty and truth were. But there was security, comfort, and underlying strength. Eyes squeezed shut, Arc held the position and allowed the final tendrils of the gift to surge through her. When it was over, he pressed the top of his head into the nape of her neck.

“You are going to do so well. I look forward to seeing it.” And with that, he retreated back to the familiar spot at Elmskip’s flank.

After Olivestone had received her first two lives from her late fathers, the blue-furred she-cat stepped forward, nodding at the two toms. Stars danced in her fur, and a few twinkled in the air as the result of a tail-flick, quickly winking out as she padded towards the leader-to-be. Cobaltfire grinned widely, playfulness dancing in her eyes as she stopped a tail-length away from Olivestone.
"We meet again! I'm glad that it's under much better circumstances this time. Y'know, I'm so proud of you for finally telling Zinnia how you feel about her. You two make a wonderful pair. Though, you know that I'm not here just to praise you."

Taking a step forward, she continued speaking, a more serious note taking hold in her voice.
"My turn for leadership never came, despite my lofty dreams of standing where you do. I yearned only to be the leader WindClan deserved, and hoped to bestow my expertise upon the Clan that I love so much. I give you the life of strength, so that you may make the tough decisions that come with leadership."

Olivestone lifted her head as Cobaltfire closed the gap between them, and braced herself for the pain that this new life brought. The simple nose-touch sparked a wave of pain, and she felt all the pain of every injury, emotional and physical, that she'd received since she was born, tenfold- no, one-hundredfold. Her skin and insides lit up with pain, and her claws scored the dirt as she fought the urge to yowl.

As quickly as the pain had washed over her, it receded, leaving the gray tabby almost shaking from the effort of enduring such a feeling. Olivestone lifted her head once more, retracting her claws, and nodded to Cobaltfire, who winked at her as she turned to pad back to the StarClan's ranks.

Right as she caught her breath again, another cat approached, brushing past Cobaltfire with a knowing gleam in his eye, bounding with excitement towards the leader-to-be, stars cascading off of him. He stopped a few paces away from her, and even when he stood still, Olivestone could tell that the tom was just bursting with unspent energy. A wide, innocent grin crossed his face, and love glimmered in his gaze as he opened his mouth to speak.
"I see you've met my dear sister back there! I'm Wolftrot, Cobaltfire's brother. We lived and trained at the same time, though, that's probably obvious! While my sister had her dreams of leadership, I was content to just be! I would have supported her if her time came to lead, but I just wanted to be a regular warrior. She probably told you about her dreams, so I won't prattle on about them, so I'll tell you why I'm here."

While he spoke, he never ceased moving, whether it was the excited flicking of his tail, the quick kneading of the ground, or the way he moved his head as he emoted.
"I'm here to give you the life of youth. Leadership can and will take its toll, but you're young and resilient. Use my life to keep a hold of that resilience for as long as you can."

With that, he touched his nose to Olivestone's and she was pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain Wolftrot's life gave, though it was no less intense. Burning energy built up in her muscles that begged to be burned off through aimless running and running and running. Youthful vigor filled her up and threatened to overflow, and she could hardly contain her joy at how good it felt. As quickly as it had hit her, it faded, leaving a faint buzz in her body, her fur almost standing on end. But still, she forced herself to stand in place, watching and waiting for the next cat to approach her.

Just like Cobaltfire, Wolftrot winked at her as he turned to leave, bounding back with his tireless energy to stand beside his sister, giving her a quick cheek rub as he settled down as much as he could beside her to continue watching the ceremony.

As Wolftrot settled back among the starry crowd, a familiar brown tabby pelt emerged. She wove around Olivestone, steps light, with the same type of energy he had carried. Larkflight’s energy had not diminished with death. Her aqua eyes glittered as they scoured every inch of the gray tabby’s face. The queen dipped her head, smile broadening on her face. "I was not expecting the stars to allow me these privileges. First, I came to Softbreeze. Now, you." Larkflight twisted around Olivestone after circling her, eventually coming to a stop in front of her. Her eyes glittered with a warm light as she regarded the soon-to-be leader. "Ravenstar was named leader after I died, and already, you must step into place. There’s a balance between ambition and loyalty, and I think you have that figured out."

Larkflight had known Olivestone. A little more than the average warrior, as she had been deputy. But most of her trust of the she-cat came from watching from the stars as she had trained Wildflower. A small smile grew on her face. "As you trained Wildflower, I watched from up here. You were exactly the right cat, training with compassion and kindness rather than fear or anger. It is with those qualities I believe you will lead WindClan with, erring on the side of peace rather than war." Larkflight bent down slightly until her head was level with Olivestone’s. Wisdom replaced the aloof look her eyes usually held as her tail swept the ground behind her.

"Compassion. You have this, but power can corrupt the best of cats. That is why it is my life to give to you. My gift for you. You helped Wildflower. In return, I am helping you. Many other lives must be used wisely, but compassion is not like this. Kindness can be used in all situations, as long as you are not afraid to stand up for your Clan. Use compassion to help others, may they be loved ones or rogues. It is something everyone deserves, at least a little." The medium haired she-cat gently pressed her nose to Olivestone’s. The life was perhaps the most gentle she would receive. A warm, tingly feeling slowly ran through Olivestone’s body from her nose to tail-tip. It was the feeling of kindness. The one you felt when someone made a selfless gesture for you. Unconditional kindness. It left the gray tabby relaxed and warm.

Larkflight stepped back, brushlike tail gently catching Olivestone’s chin. "Don’t forget to be kind to yourself as well. Treat yourself with the same kindness you would to others." She lifted her head and straightened, starlight glittering throughout her pelt. The smile still remained on her face as she faded into the starry throng, content knowing she had done her part.

An unfamiliar dilute tortoiseshell stepped out from the stars, her thick pelt sleek and shimmering. Her round hazel eyes were bright with warmth and happiness as she met Olivestone’s gaze. ”Hi, Olivestone! I’m Dacedream, from ThunderClan,” the starry warrior introduced herself warmly. She suspected that the WindClan cat knew her name; Olivestone had been one of the cats who threw herself into the rebellion against the Righteous Few once she’d learned it existed, and Dacedream’s murder at their paws had contributed to the movement. Nonetheless, Dacedream continued, ”I was born in RiverClan and raised in ThunderClan, where I got my warrior name and, um, died because I wasn’t in my birth Clan.” She shifted a little, clearly uncomfortable, and added, ”Thank you for helping to fight for me and my kits I left behind. I know you did it for the forest, but it means the stars to me, too.”

Eager to leave that emotional mess, Dacedream’s tufted ears perked up and she mrrowed, ”Oh! Right! Yeah, okay, so speaking of kits, I’m here to give you a life of love! I know you’re from WindClan, and you’re surrounded by really loving cats, and I can tell you love them too. You fight for them and protect them and take care of them, and you’ll have to do it even more as leader now, but they’ll do the same for you. Use this life to love yourself, and to love your territory, and to love your duties, and to love all the Clans - ‘cause they’re all important to WindClan’s well-being!” The she-cat reached forward with an apricot nose and bumped it gently into Olivestone’s dark gray one, but the power that flowed through the gesture was jolting: the joy of love returned; the fear of love in danger; the emptiness of love lost; the exhilaration of love found.

When Dacedream stepped back, she dipped her broad mottled head. ”Wherever you go, don’t leave love behind. Things are a little less scary when we’ve got that to fall back on,” she told the leader-to-be kindly, and then she stepped back, her piece said.

A figure shuffled past Dacedream with jarring elegance. Aspenheart had become very adjusted to the new legs he had been blessed with, holding himself properly, with no sign of a hobble. Though Olivestone might have been shocked to see him this way, other than his cured affliction, he was unequivocally Aspenheart, in death as he had been in life. His posture was slouched, head ducked to nearly shoulder-height, and his tail swooped out in a wide, horizontal arc. The scars along his muzzle stayed the same, too. He purred a greeting. “I leave for a few moons and the whole clan gets all shaken up,” he tutted, rolling his eyes playfully. His smile faded, but bemusement was not absent in his now sobered expression. “You must think this is all happening really fast. I know what that’s like… maybe not in the same way, but I know. I’m sorry if you weren’t given a lot of time to prepare. You’ll be fine, though. Don’t worry about it.”

The medicine cat stepped up, now lifting his head to meet hers. “There is no constant, but change. The wind will not always be on your side. To stand in an updraft without turning your cheek? Now, that’s rough. But that’s what a leader does. Your leadership will vary from moment to moment, and when you look at the stars above you, it’ll seem like different constellations every time. With this life, I give you tenacity,” he touched his nose to Olivestone’s, “To weather every windstorm. May you stand firm in everything, especially in your love for your clanmates… and yourself.”

Olivestone’s body was slammed with powerful grief, frustration, and heartbreak: the things that broke lesser cats. But with every punch of emotion to her chest, she became less aware of it. The pain was numbed, and replaced with the intense drumming of a proud and resilient heart. When the ache dulled to a flutter amidst the energetic endurance of her spirit, Aspenheart winked and stepped back to join the rest of StarClan.

When the next cat stepped out, his form was immediately discernible as a proud WindClan warrior. His cream tabby fur was short and sleek, freckled with stars, and his small tattered ears were perked intently forward as he met Olivestone’s gaze. His face, chest, and shoulders were scarred despite the youthful brilliance of his pelt. Barleytuft smiled warmly at the gray tabby before him. ”It’s very good to see you again, Olivestone; you’ve grown. You’re stronger than the last time I saw you. You’ve carried your duties as deputy with sturdy shoulders and certain paws - the finest qualities a WindClan cat can possess. Raventail entrusted the Clan to you, and I know you will do us all proud.” He glanced aside at Elmskip amongst the gathered cats, smiling at the tom that he called brother and Olivestone called father. ”In fact, I know you already have.” He turned back to her. ”But your time is only beginning. I won’t waste it chattering to you. Are you ready for your next life?”

After waiting for her response, Barleytuft nodded once and raised his chin. ”With this life, Olivestone, I give you a life of self-sacrifice. We have done things that have terrified us for the good of our Clan and Clanmates, and for our own happiness and betterment.” He stepped forward and pressed his nose to Olivestone’s, and there was an immediate sensation of plummeting and then suffocation as dirt squeezed from all sides - the terror of being buried in the tunnels was nearly all that pervaded for a moment, but like the sun piercing the horizon at dawn the feeling was washed away with the pressure of a scruff held in teeth, the burst of light as the rescuer and their victim broke the crumbling surface, the gasp of fresh air flooding with relief that no lives were lost due to swift, unflinching action. ”They will depend on you; in the tunnels and on the moors, you bear the lives your Clanmates can’t spare.”

The senior warrior stepped away then, and his eyes were intent, but warm with love. ”Never forget what you’ve gained through the hard things you’ve had to do. Take care, Olivestone - and please, if you remember, let Raventail know I said hello.” Barleytuft moved back into the crowd, a peaceful expression settling on his face as he watched the ceremony progress.

It was a joyous thing to watch WindClan gather around Olivestone. Yellow eyes watched from deeper in the silver forest, glittering with starlight and amusement. It seemed Finchstar had made quite a habit of visiting the living, or welcoming the dead. The tom couldn’t ever really leave the moor, and while his home sat at a higher altitude among the stars, he’d always have a wistful gaze set upon their little camp in the meadow. Life marched on with fervor, just as fiery as it had been during the former leader’s kithood. WindClan had raged against the darkness that threatened it, ensuring that their lazy days would never grow boring. Aspenheart had made the journey to StarClan not long ago, running through the ryegrass with new legs. It seemed all of Finchstar’s friends now resided above the plains. He’d gaze around, and only see a few sparks of the life he once knew down below. Quite a foreign feeling, but a welcome one. The tom was no stranger to change, and changed it had. Raventail grew older, his white patched chin now accompanied by grey hairs on the tom’s black muzzle. Brookclover and Finchstar had watched this with great interest, placing bets on who would comment on the shift in appearance next. As horizons set day after day, a path was placed out before Olivestone. It was clear she’d be the next harbinger of WindClan, possessing both the stubbornness and the spirit of the hardy moor-cats.  

As Barleytuft turned back towards the crowd that had gathered, Finchstar shouldered his way past the tom, brushing his pelt with love. ”Any more of us, and one might consider this a clan meeting.” The former leader crooned, padding to stand before Olivestone, a glint in his eye. He smiled with sunshine, dipping his head to the she-cat in respect, reminiscing of all the moons that had passed since her appointment as deputy. ”You’ve led quite the life, haven’t you? Battling with StarClan themselves. I only wish I could’ve been there to watch you grow myself.” Finchstar gazed into Olivestone’s eyes, thinking that they reminded him of Brookclover’s. A sigh escaped the tom’s maw as he pondered on what life to give the younger deputy. Dacedream - a spry young cat from ThunderClan, had already chosen the name of love to sponsor her gift. Not that Finchstar had yet a better reason. It was ever so interesting to think that a cat from across the river could lead a life just as full of love as Finchstar could. It gave him hope that the forest would sing such a thing one day.

In his true impulsive fashion, the tom dipped his head, chuckling in a cheery way. ”I knew you in life Olivestone, so I feel no need to introduce myself. However I am greatly honored to have been chosen once more to bestow this final life upon you. If I had known I’d be the bringer of life as an apprentice, I may have taken care to learn more words, seeing as how my favorite; love has been claimed already.” Finchstar flashed a cheeky grin to Dacedream behind him, only joking in his light manner. Another chuckle fell from his maw as his gaze rested on Olivestone’s once more, smiling in a bittersweet way. The cat before him had gone through dark times, and yet she still wore the badge of WindClan hope. Sadly, he knew there’d only be more to come, but after dusk, soon follows dawn. It was only right to name such knowledge, to gift it to the new ray of hope before him. ”You will be WindClan’s crusader soon, ‘stone. You carry a heart of gold with you, so fierce that you hardly need this life I give you now. But we live for abundance, do we not? I now give you the life of optimism, to shine brightly through any circumstance that may present itself to you. Olivestone, you are the sun in the sky. You are the stars of silverpelt, shining with such brilliance, I will brand it as your new name. Olivestone no more, you are now Olivestar. There is no trial that WindClan has not survived, and I know they won’t fail now. Go, and run with all the wind as it pulls at your tail. Fly with all the brilliance you have in you. WindClan is yours, ‘star. Wield the title well.”

The final life given to her held less pain than the newly-named Olivestar had expected, the life full of the warmth that a sunny disposition would hold in day to day life. The warmth filled her up, soothing the pains from the previous lives had wrought upon her, and she let out a contented sigh as the warmth faded from her sore body. She held her head high as the traditional chanting began, a chorus of voices joining together in one star-filled voice, chanting her new name.

Olivestar basked in the chanting for a few moments before the scene began to blur before her, the voices fading out as the scenery darkened before her eyes. Before she knew it, she blinked her eyes open in front of the moonstone, the magnificent quartz now bathed in darkness, the moon having already begun to set in the sky.

The newly-named leader stood on sore and shaky legs, the power of her new lives thrumming within her for a moment before settling down as she got her bearings and her legs learned to support her once again. With a nod to Raventail, she turned and led the way out of the cavern and into the old night, back towards home.

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thank you so much to everyone who helped me write this!!

elmskip, written by aspen
arcayus, written by ripped
larkflight, written by sal
dacedream and barleytuft, written by suma
aspenheart, written by grizzly
and finchstar written by lemon!!
(and cobaltfire and wolftrot, written by me lmao)