Flykit's Apprentice Ceremony

Flykit was the next kit of Jayshriek's and Kitefire's to be apprenticed. Loonwhisper sniffled a bit, his eyes weighed down like stones from the intense pressure in his face. Ick.

The little black tom-kit was spirited, not lacking in enthusiasm by any stretch. He would be a difficult cat to wrangle... perhaps better for a more experienced mentor. RiverClan's warriors were stretched rather thin these days, between the intense heat and a surplus of apprentices to train, not to mention their strained relationships with some of the other clans... but under no circumstances would Loonwhisper allow Jayshriek to train his own young. That seemed a recipe for imminent disaster. He'd rearrange every apprentice to avoid doing so.

"Flykit, step forward," he murmured, a little more nasally than usual.

Flykit didn’t know much about ceremonies. However, he was fairly sure they ended at some point, and this one…hadn’t. Even though his sister had gotten her apprentice name and a mentor, Loonwhisper hadn’t budged from his perch atop the Willow Branch. Maybe…maybe the meeting wasn’t done? Maybe there would be another ceremony! The realization struck him like lightning. Leaning forward, Flykit fixed his gaze on RiverClan’s deputy as if he could project his thoughts into the older tom’s head: Me or Loachkit, me or Loachkit—

Then Loonwhisper spoke. Flykit bit down on a cry of triumph just in time. Me! Keeping quiet used just about all of his self-restraint; stomping on at least one tail in the process, he launched onto his tiny paws and rushed to the spot Heronpaw had stood in minutes ago, only remembering to stand up straight and look Loonwhisper in the eye once he’d come to a halt.

"Flykit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to become an apprentice," he crooned. "From this day forward, until you have become a warrior, you will be known as Flypaw."

Loonwhisper gazed around the crowd. "Turtlefur, you will be Flypaw's mentor," he explained, "You are hardy, and patient. You adapt well, and you are ready for your first apprentice. It is my hope that you will teach Flypaw to step with the spirit of Leopardclan, and to..."

The deputy paused, uncomfortable. He knew what he really wanted to say. "To be a proud RiverClan warrior. A loyal and honest clanmate, who honors the Code to the end."

He cleared his throat, dislodging mucus and rubbing woefully at his tearful eyes, "You are all dismissed," he said, and crawled down from his place to shuffle back to Spiderquill's den.

While Loonwhisper continued, Flykit focused on staring up at the Willow Branch until his eyes burned, as if blinking could distract him from the sacred words. This ceremony didn’t sound much different from Heronpaw’s. He imagined the other kits would have the same words spoken over them someday, too. Some cats might have found that boring; to Flykit, its semi-scripted nature made it sound even more important.

Though he’d only heard it once before, he knew the rhythm, knew when Loonwhisper was just about to say his new, better name: Flypaw. His ears somehow turned even further forward to catch the name of his mentor in all things warrior… Turtlefur. Turtlefur? He didn’t think he knew anyone named Turtlefur. Then again, he didn’t know most of his older Clanmates, so that made sense. Though he longed to turn and see the warrior who’d responded to Loonwhisper’s call (an expert fisher-cat? A battle-scarred senior warrior?), Flypaw kept his nose pointed toward his deputy.

There was a pause. Then something else—something that hadn’t been in Heronpaw’s ceremony. Flypaw’s smile faltered for all of a heartbeat. Then Loonwhisper cleared his throat, dismissed the meeting, and RiverClan’s newest apprentice (by all of a few minutes) whirled around to get a glimpse of this Turtlefur at last, the stung feeling shoved aside.