Kitepaw's Warrior Ceremony

Nettlestar felt a little bad for Kitepaw; being the first apprentice to have to have their warrior ceremony under the "watchful" eyes of ThunderClan's new...guests would probably not be all that easy; and the excitement and importance of the moment would be tainted by the negative circumstances.

Still, ceremonies had to keep happening. And someone had to go first.

"ThunderClan!" she called out, "Please gather beneath the Highrock for a meeting,"

Kitepaw padded forward at the call of her leader. The scathing and persistent gaze of their invading foes seemed to have dulled in its scalding heat. While her pelt still prickled, it was more due to the chill of the evening than discomfort. Still, her ears perked and strained to catch every tiny sound through camp. Once a safe have, this was merely another place to watch her pelt. It was concerning the way her delicate pawsteps grew more comfortable in the foreign circumstances. She feared the day her guard fell entirely; surely that would be when the Asylum cats took the moment to strike. Settling back on her haunches, the russet she-cat wrapped her tail neatly over her paws and fluffed her coat out as she attempted to push away the creeping fears that would occasionally crawl up her spine. Perhaps the familiar address of Nettlestar would soothe something deep within.

Nettlestar fixed her gaze firmly on Kitepaw once she appeared among the crowd. But the tall gray she-cat was unable to forget the presence of the Asylum cats hanging around in the periphery of her vision. She didn't trust a single one of them, and she intensely disliked that there was nothing she could do about it.

"Kitepaw," she said calmly, trying her best to pretend this was like every warrior ceremony that came before it. "Take a step forward, please,"

She waited for the apprentice to do so, hating that these cats had forcibly taken a place in ThunderClan's life, and with their silent, unwanted gazes were taking part of a ceremony that they had no business being part of.

"I, Nettlestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Kitepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

The warrior code the presence of the Asylum cats had rendered parts of it null, was there a point in still acknowledging it like this? And their warrior ancestors...had they forsaken them? Was there anything they would do to help the clans? Was there anything they could do? The silver-gray tabby didn't have the answers, but she wasn't about to give up on these words. She had never really cared that much about their specificities before, just their sentiments. But now it felt like they were an important link back to the life that had been, that she hoped would be once again. It had been imperfect, yes...but she preferred it greatly to this situation they were in now-- because at least it had been theirs. Even if the Aslyum were not actively threatening their lives, they were watching them, overriding them. And that was bad enough.

Nettlestar's voice was even and betrayed none of the various emotions running through the leader's mind but Kitepaw found herself unable to ignore the creeping dread that prickled underneath her pelt at the sound of her given name. To gain a warrior name was something she had fought for and sought out like many other apprentices before her. Yet this situation was wrought with circumstantial unpleasantries. She was to be made a warrior before the prying eyes of Asylum. Whether this was condemning or a indignant display against their oppressors, the young she cat found herself inept and wresting down a solid thought on the matter.

In a stiff manner, the she-cat rose to her paws. Before many cats, foreigners and kin alike, she took her place before Nettlestar. Eyes flickered and danced like a flash of lightening. Despite the churning that reminded her of tides, and unfortunately Jaypaw as well, her gaze met the leader's. A dry sand coated her throat and Kitepaw swallowed in a fruitless effort to quench the sensation. However, her mind had been set at birth and sealed the moment she laid eyes on her sniveling, Windclan father. Thunderclan had her heart and soul; this was what she knew and what she had been brought up into.

For once, her head didn't tip to catch the responding sounds. The sentiment was clear and she was close enough now to catch what her warrior name would be. Each pad pressed to the earth, finding some sense of grounding as the russet apprentice finally formed the reassured words, "I do."

So this was it. The first warrior of a new "era"-- one Nettlestar hoped would end up ending sooner rather than later.

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Kitepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Kitefire. StarClan honors your enthusiasm and devotion, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan,"

Kitefire-- it would be a good name, especially for the moment they were in. Not too long ago, her own name had been Nettlefire, and she had chosen the name herself, as a symbol of bravery against her fear and pain, a bastion of control in the face of uncontrollable circumstances. She hoped it would serve this young she-cat well, too, as she became the clan's first new warrior in these uncertain times.

Such unusual circumstances. She noted the presence of strange cats once more as the familiar words struck a cord in her chest. This time the ceremony was directed to her, the honor of warriorhood. Kitefire looked up at her leader with a quiet determination. It took everything within her to push away nagging fears which caused her to want to run from camp at any given moment. How could she be a warrior with such uncertainty pounding through her veins? The sensation had been with her since conception, twisting underneath her pelt and steadily growing throughout the many things she had faced. But there was no room to allow such dread to creep into the moment. Eyes of all origins burned into her pelt now, searing like the namesake that had been so recently announced. Her head dipped slightly with respect for her leader. Above all else now, it was the clan that mattered. Yet... even now she couldn't help by think about telling Jaypaw she had received her name.

"Thank you, Nettlestar."

Cedarheart had been listening to every meeting, hoping for some sort of news, anything that could pull her out of this slump she had fallen into. Everything was different, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Her friends had faded away, for the most part. Robinloft had been tired, and was quite occupied with her kits. The tabby longed for Stormpaw, for a friend. And Pinefrost had been killed. By them. She couldn’t look at them without the bubbling hatred in her stomach.

She watched her daughter, who looked like Harefoot and Pinefrost, both gone to the stars. She had trained hard, and it was a spark of joy in these trying times. "Kitefire! Kitefire!" she chanted for the newly named warrior, a rare smile breaking out on her maw.