Badgerpaw's Warrior Ceremony

Nettlestar scaled the Highrock, ready to conduct another warrior ceremony. She still couldn't stand the fact that she had an audience of unwelcome invaders as well as one of of her own clanmates, but there was nothing she could do about that in the moment. All she could do for now was try to maintain some sense of normalcy, and that meant continuing to conduct ceremonies as normal.

"Cats of ThunderClan!" she called out, looking down at the crowd of her clanmates. She tried to imagine all the others as ghosts. There, but not there. It did not help. "Please gather beneath the Highrock for a meeting,"

Asylum’s invasion had been so abrupt, so earth-shaking, it felt as if life itself should have ground to a halt in its wake. And yet, ThunderClan plodded onward. Thrushnose had hunted, marked borders, gathered herbs alongside Asylum cats as if nothing was wrong. Now she sat beneath the Highrock with them, too. She’d managed to find a spot within their line of sight, but far enough she wasn’t brushing shoulders with any of them. That was the best she could do. She could block them out for a single ceremony’s length—and if there was any ceremony that deserved it, it was Badgerpaw’s. Despite the turbulent times, she’d pushed through her training with the determination of a cat twice her age until finally, all too soon, the date of her impending warriorhood was set. Even now, she stood on her own terms, unmarred by her bloodline. The plan Thrushnose and Pinefrost crafted had been a success.

Thrushnose just wished he could have seen it. She’d kept herself busy, but when her paws went still a heartbeat too long, grief curled around them like an adder. The tabby she-cat squeezed her eyes shut until they hurt, then opened them to search for her daughter’s pale, patched fur. Whether or not Badgerpaw’s mind had traveled down the same paths today, Thrushnose would keep those thoughts to herself. This was Badgerpaw’s day.

The summons rang through camp, bringing old and new faces to sit beneath the Highrock. A twinge of protective annoyance curled in his chest at their curiosity, and he fought the urge to curl his lip at a few as he joined the crowd. One pelt in particular caught his eye. Thrushnose. He knew whose ceremony this was, the apprentice who was destined to become a warrior in these dark times. Her daughter.

The grief that twisted in her heart he knew all too well, the same ache running through his own as he adjusted his course through the crowd. She didn't deserve this - none of it. But she was strong - like her mother. Yet even though she didn't show it, he knew it was still there. She'd cared too much for Pinefrost not to grieve his death, especially the way he'd been killed. How she could stand sitting there in this clearing, surrounded by the murderers and not grow bitter before his eyes he didn't know - and her lack of it sent a vague twinge of guilt through his as he purposefully ignored the Asylum cats in the crowd that he had to brush past.

Softly, his pawsteps approached, and he sat beside his daughter as her eyes opened to look up at the Highrock. Gently touching his nose to the top of her head in mixed greeting and comfort, he murmured too quietly for their permanent shadows to hear, "She's come a long way, huh?"

The conversation with the mottled tom in her StarClan dream had been forgotten almost as soon as Badgerpaw awoke. Because in the real world, there wasn't lush grass beneath her paws, or a warm breeze ruffling her fur. In the real world, there was no forgetting, even for a moment, that her father was dead. Only Jaydream's touch on her forehead had lingered into her conscious mind, and with it brought the hollow ache in her heart that she got every time she thought of him. Pinefrost had been murdered by the Asylum... by these interlopers who even now traipsed around ThunderClan's territory like they weren't unwelcome... like they belonged here.

Every time she saw them, it was hard to quell the rage that simmered just beneath her surface. So far, she'd managed. Her sound throttling at their initial takeover had made it clear to Badgerpaw that she wasn't ready to fight them. At least not openly. All she could do for now was sit back and wait, and hope that someone else - someone smarter, and more level headed - came up with a plan.

As typical for her lately, Badgerpaw was curled in the far corner of the clearing, away from the other apprentices, away from anyone who didn't mosey over to try and start a conversation. Those who did were thoroughly rebuffed, because Badgerpaw didn't want to talk. To anyone. She was tired of the looks of pity and the words of condolence. She was tired of constantly being on watch by the Asylum cats. She was just tired. Tired enough that she almost ignored Nettlestar's summons, but among the cats gathered, she noticed her mother and grandfather sitting side by side, and that was enough for Badgerpaw to draw on the dwindling reserves of patience she had left and uncurl from her solitary position to slink over to them.

Badgerpaw didn't hesitate for even a second, thrusting herself in between Minkstream and Thrushnose so that she was equally in the midst of them, one on either side of her brushing her pelt with their own. She curled her feathery tail around Minkstream's, and shoved her head up underneath her mother's chin, squeezing her eyes closed and seeking comfort as much as she was hoping to provide it, too. She had no interest in whatever it was that Nettlestar had to say, unless it was that they were going to war and chasing out the invaders. But she would take this moment, anyway.

Nettlestar watched as Badgerpaw took a place between Thrushnose and Minkstream. The gray she-cat looked from her deputy to her former apprentice and then to the apprentice whose ceremony she was about to conduct. "Badgerpaw," she called, "Take a step forward, please,"

She waited for the she-cat to do so, then continued.

"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. Badgerpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

He'd barely spoken when something wriggled in-between them, her scent brushing his nose as he glanced down and bringing a faint smile to his maw. As her tail curled over his and her head brushed under Thrushnose's chin, he gave her a soft nuzzle, for a moment all three of them alone. Just a moment. A heart-aching, gently beating moment, but a moment all the same. The Asylum may as well have not been there, and in that small heartbeat of time their eyes were forgotten.

And then Nettlestar's voice rang out, and he glanced up to see her gazing down at them. His attention turned back down, his eyes turning to Thrushnose's briefly with a vague hint of sadness, a quirk of a smile lifting the edge of his maw, and he gave Badgerpaw a slight nudge with his nose. "Better get up there, 'paw," He murmured, her fluffy tail still curled around his. "Show all those Asylum pelts you're ready."

Nettlestar's voice was enough to jolt Badgerpaw out of her reverie. It felt like forever since she'd enjoyed a moment of peace, and, surrounded here by her family, she did, finally. The leader's words almost went in one ear and out the other - she had no clue this would be her ceremony, and was only here for moral support for the clan. But the call of her name was enough to trigger something in her brain to follow the leader's instructions, and with a little prompting from Minkstream, she did just that.

Stumbling forward somewhat clumsily, the apprentice lifted her gaze to Nettlestar's just as she began the words that would make Badgerpaw a warrior. At the same time as Nettlestar's last word was spoken, Badgerpaw cut in, "I do."

This was it. She was finally going to be a warrior. Finally, she'd be able to train harder, work longer, improve herself enough to give these Asylum rats a run for their money.

Quieter than leaves tumbling across the forest floor, Minkstream sat down beside her. Thrushnose began to turn in greeting, but stilled as a soft nose brushed against the top of her head, accompanied by softer words. Every answer she could think of jammed in her throat. She was so proud…so scared. If there was even a way for a cat to describe the depth of it all, it escaped her. In lieu of speaking, she leaned into her father, tilting her head back toward the gentle contact. Of all her family—all except Pinefrost—he’d always known her best.

A smaller figure wormed between them. Thrushnose had all of a moment to identify the pelt, the scent; that moment was more than enough for her to curl around Badgerpaw, tail coming to rest over hers and Minkstream’s. With her father’s nose resting between her ears and the pressure of her daughter’s head underneath her chin, she felt herself sag. Their warmth didn’t ward off the sorrow or fury—the knots in her chest tightened, if anything, until she couldn’t breathe—but there was comfort in being understood without needing to find the right words. Unfortunately, they couldn’t sit there forever. Once Nettlestar called Badgerpaw forward, the huddle fell apart; Thrushnose remained in the spot she’d shuffled to.

Even at the cost of your life. Every ThunderClan warrior made that promise. Thrushnose had made that promise, and though she’d only been twelve moons old at the time, she hadn’t taken it lightly. Yet hearing her own kit pledge to do what each and every warrior vowed to was so much more daunting. Badgerpaw had gotten her parents’ courage combined, and mixed in some of her own for good measure. Thrushnose bowed her head, exhaled softly, looked back up at her daughter and Nettlestar.

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

The gray she-cat said the final words of the ceremony, then quickly joined in with the chanting of the new warrior's name. She had been grateful to welcome new cats to the warrior's den before the Asylum had come, when her concerns about the clan's future had only been vague and unformed. Now they had clear, tangible direction. Someday-- someday they would find a way to be rid of these unwanted intruders. And the more loyal and capable warriors the clan had when that day came, the better. Strength in terms of morality and honor-- the she-cat had always known that was important. Now she was beginning to realize just how much strength in terms of force and might mattered, too. ThunderClan needed to be strong for the day they were free again, whenever it came...and she would make sure they would stay strong afterward, so that nothing like this would ever happen to her clan again.