Shrikepaw's Warrior Ceremony

With the Asylum takeover, Olivestar was honestly glad that there was an opportunity for normalcy in the wake of so much change. Even then, the ceremony would be watched over by strange eyes and unfamiliar shadows, and that still set the gray leader on edge. Still, despite the unwanted intruders and the biting cold, leaf-fall giving way to leafbare's chill, she retraced the path up to the Tallrock's top, the path now muscle memory in her body. The chill reminded her of the days she'd spent alone as a kit with her brother, before Elmskip had found them and brought them home to WindClan, and she wondered briefly what her life would have been like had the Asylum found them first. Thinking for a few moments, she couldn't imagine that she'd like life with them better, and dismissed the thought with the shake of her head.
Though, not gonna lie, wearing pelts is actually a pretty cool idea. Not to mention, it'd keep you warmer in the cold like this...

Another shake of her head brought her out of her thoughts, and with a deep breath, glanced around at the camp and everyone in it, the familiar sense of love for her home and her Clan dampened by the presence of the pelt-wearers. Frowning a little, she took another deep breath and called out the familiar summons.
"May all cats old enough to run the moor gather beneath the Tallrock!"

Shrikepaw padded out of the apprentice den, exciting pulsating through his fur. Even all the strange, murderous cats watching them couldn't quell how he felt. It should've been about the time for him to become a warrior, and he was more than ready to take on the responsibilities. At first, he had been terrified, so scared of failing and being a burden to his clan. After having his talk with StarClan, however, he felt so much more confident in what he had to do. That was why he sat near the front, puffing out his chest.

As her Clanmates gathered around, Shrikepaw among them, she looked around, wondering if any of the nicer Asylum cats would join in with the ceremony, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Regardless, she watched as her Clanmates congregated, and the cat in question for the ceremony that day was sitting proud, front and center. When the crowd grew to a size to her liking, she continued the ceremony, trying not to frown at the state of everything around her.
"Shrikepaw, step forward."

When the tom had done so, looking prouder than Olivestar had ever thought possible, she continued.
"I, Olivestar of WindClan, ask my fellow Clanmates to look upon this apprentice. He’s trained hard to understand our ways, and I commend him to you as a warrior in return." she looked down at Shrikepaw, meeting his gaze. "Shrikepaw, do you promise to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Shrikepaw was sure it was his own ceremony, but when he heard his name called by Olivestar, any niggling doubts were erased. He stepped forward at his leader’s call, prepared to do what he had to for his clan. “I do,” he replied confidently, amazed at how far he had come. He was able to stand there in front of his clanmates without feeling any terrifying fear. He really had Smallbean to thank for that, as he wouldn’t be becoming a proper warrior without his mentor. He hoped that Smallbean was proud of him.

Softbreeze sat just outside her den, eyes puffy and red. How many days had passed? She wasn't sure. If she wasn't sure of Olivestar's voice, that very well could've been Violetpaw up there calling a Clan meeting. It still reeked of the Asylum cats, so Softbreeze assumed it wasn't a Clan meeting, and just a warrior ceremony. "It's Shrikepaw's ceremony, Softbreeze, why don't you come join us?" Downtuft mewed gently, padding up to his sister. "No, thanks."

It was always the same reply. Downtuft exchanged a glance with Shyfawn, anxious. It was always the same response. When asked to share prey, when asked to go on an herb hunt, when asked to just talk. She was even reluctant to heal, as if she might hurt them more than help. Dark lines circled her eyes, evidence of nights full of nightmares. Softbreeze was not okay. She was a murderer; it was all her fault. She'd killed Dappleshine. She'd killed a cat, one who didn't deserve it. A silent sob racked her body and her mind was evidently elsewhere. If Downtuft had to guess, it would have been stuck on the night the Asylum cats killed Goldengale; and Dappleshine. "Softbreeze, please-- this isn't healthy."

The molly didn't answer. It was as if she hadn't heard him. Which, to be fair, she probably hadn't. Her milky glazed eyes were stuck to the ground, as if she could never forget the bloodstains of the past. He knew she wouldn't hear him-- and even if she had, would not have believed him, but still, he whispered. "It was not your fault." Shyfawn sorrowfully padded away, wracked with sympathy for their medicine cat. Her job was not an easy one, and Shyfawn knew she'd never want a life as lonely and grief-filled as the one Softbreeze lead. Downtuft protectively sat beside his sister as horrifying moments plagued her mind, and Shyfawn wondered just how long the tom could protect Softbreeze from herself.

Turning her attention back to the ceremony in progress, Shyfawn faintly smiled and gave Olivestar an approving nod, a small head bop of sympathy and agreeance. Shrikepaw was ready.

As the two little words left the warrior-to-be's mouth, Olivestar glanced around the camp once more, still unable to shake the crawling feeling of the Asylum cats watching their every move. Still, she had to finish the ceremony, and that she was going to do.
"Then with the approval of my Clanmates, I give you your warrior name. From this moment on, you will be known as Shrikestorm. We honor your calm nature and your dedication to the warrior code, and I am proud to welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.”

With the final words said, and the new warrior having been named, she began the chant, pushing down the unease in her chest.
"Shrikestorm! Shrikestorm! Shrikestorm!"

Upon hearing his warrior name, Shrikestorm's ears were inundated with the cheers of his clan. He looked up at Olivestar, his eyes shining with gratitude and pride. He was finally a warrior, and he could protect his clan better than at any point before. There was no way he would let WindClan down now. Not when he knew the responsibilities he had, and the words that Falconstar had told him.