Pyrik's Apprentice Ceremony

Ebonysong had just recently done Ivory's apprentice ceremony, and this next one was going to be for her own son, Pyrik. As the deputy stepped onto the Jagged Rock, she recalled the complicated events that lead up to this moment. It still seemed hard to believe that her own adopted son barely remembered her, but the dark-gray she-cat was determined to regain the time that was lost. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Jagged Rock for a Clan meeting!" Then, she waited, her ice-blue eyes scanning the gathering crowd for signs of Pyrik.

So far, Pyrik’s experience with WindClan had proved shockingly useful. Though their prey and territories differed and ShadowClan did their work in…well, the shadows, the two Clans functioned more or less the same. Dusk and dawn patrols, mentors training apprentices, the occasional chatter about stars. Most of it went over Pyrik’s head, of course, but he knew enough about Clan routines to avoid stepping on any tails. Meetings were no exception. As ShadowClan flocked to the Jaggedrock (summoned by their…deputy, Pyrik recalled after a moment’s thought), he settled down at the clearing’s far edge to observe—

And realized with a start that this “Clan meeting” included him. Scurrying forward, he wedged himself into a spot near the back of the crowd with a flurry of mumbled apologies.

Murkystrike was still recovering from her time as a captive of Asylum, but this day she was feeling well enough to respond to the summons of Ebonysong. Rising to her paws shakily, she shook out her pelt before joining the gathering crowd towards the back, sitting down with a soft huff as she caught her breath. A familiar figure joined nearby, and Murkystrike smiled. "Good to see you, Pyrik! How are you doing?"

Seeing her son gathered before the Jagged Rock and interacting with Murkystrike, another warrior of ShadowClan, Ebonysong suddenly realized who she wanted his mentor to be. Smiling a little, Ebonysong continued her speech. "I have called you here to witness another apprentice be named. Pyrik, please step forward." Waiting patiently for her son to step forward, the dark gray deputy then continued. "Pyrik, it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you get your warrior name, you will be known as Pyrik. Your mentor will be Murkystrike. I trust that she will pass on all her knowledge to you."

Murkystrike blinked before a wide smile formed across her features. She rose to her paws once more, trying to fight the shakiness as she stepped forward towards Pyrik, excitement evident in her expression. In a quiet voice, she explained what she was about to do for him, as she realized that he may not know all of their customs. "I'm going to touch my nose to yours." Stretching her nose out to meet the tom's, she kept the contact brief before pulling back. "Congratulations, Pyrik. Let's work hard together, alright? Training will begin tomorrow at sunhigh, I want to see what you were taught so we can go from there."

A greeting dragged his focus away from the rock to its source: the she-cat who’d recognized him at the battle. Pyrik returned her smile, a tinge of guilty concern in his eyes. He’d kept his distance from the medicine den, assuming its residents wouldn’t want Asylum lurking around while they recovered, so seeing Murkystrike outside of it came as a relief—but she still moved in the careful, unsteady bursts of an injured cat. At least Asylum hadn’t given her anything too severe to heal. “Oh, um—I’m all right, I moved my nest inside yesterday, so that’s been nice.”

Before he could proceed to the how about yous, the deputy spoke again with a smile on her face (was he imagining things, or was she looking at him?). At her instruction, Pyrik took a single step forward. That wasn’t right. WindClan apprentices usually stood at the front of the crowd, didn’t they? He continued on, holding his breath; ShadowClan allowed him through without protest; and all at once, he became Pyrik, apprentice of ShadowClan.

Murkystrike had the kindness to warn him before she tapped her nose against his. He barely felt it. Flintstar had promised he could keep being Pyrik, promised him a chance to become a warrior “the right way,” but Pyrik had been braced to fight for it all the same; he’d seen a Clan brush their leader’s good intentions aside before. “O-okay,” he said, reeling, as Murkystrike pulled away. “I can—I can do sunhigh.”