Stoatpaw's Warrior Ceremony

It felt like just yesterday that his grandkit had been apprenticed, now Stoatpaw was ready to become a warrior. Minkstar felt a wistful smile tug at his maw as he leapt to the top of the rock, the heat of the day beginning to fade as sunset approached and somehow leaving the greens of leaves more vibrant as it did so. From what I've seen of him, he's smart enough to make it this quickly. No thanks to his father.... A brief flash lit in his eyes at the thought of that excuse for foxdung, and he took a deep breath, forcing it down and focusing on the here and now. Warrior ceremony. ...Stoatpaw's.

Mind back on track, he called out, "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the High Rock for a Clan meeting!"

At the call of the leader, Stoatpaw followed. It had become habitual, along with the many other skills he had obtained throughout training alongside Waterlily. The more time he had spent with his mentor, the more he had grown to respect her and appreciate what she had to offer. Matters such as origins had never meant much to the young tom. Starclan, if he could wholly erase the memory of his wonderful Thunderclan-born father, he would. Regardless of the loner blood running through her veins, Waterlily was as much a part of Thunderclan as he was.

And now, he would become even more so, stepping into the rank of warriorhood. To some, it was a great honor bestowed, and the ultimate goal for most clan cats. His apprentice training had gone by quickly, thanks to his ability to drink in the methods and pick up on skills almost instantly. And none of that mattered to him. Stoatpaw would have stayed an apprentice forever if it meant that he would continue to learn of all the things the forest had to offer. However, a warrior name meant venturing off on his own, and not having to entertain the presence of immature apprentices far less experienced than he. It would be nice to leave the apprentice's den behind.

He settled back on his haunches, seeming all the more small underneath the shadow of the high rock. Pelt neatly groomed and keen eyes seeking out Minkstar, Stoatpaw was ready for the next step of his life.

His eyes met the keen ones of the younger, smaller tom, and Minkstar smiled. These young cats seemed to have an almost supernatural sense for when it was time for their ceremony. Then again, maybe Thrushnose had taken the opportunity to share some of the perks of her higher position to her son.... Whichever one it was, he was just happy to have everything hopefully go smoothly this time. That little niggle of worry still lingered in the back of his mind, left over from the trauma of the first time. He opened his maw again, the volume decreased slightly as he addressed Stoatpaw. "Stoatpaw, it's time for you to join our ranks as a warrior." He paused, a hint of wryness slipping into his tone. "I would ask you to step forward if you agreed to go through with it, but you're already right below the rock and I don't want you to start with a sore nose."

His voice became more formal as he moved on, the levity fading to a more serious cast as he drew himself up. "I call upon our warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. He has trained hard to learn the ways of your noble code with a keen and curious interest, and I commend him to you as a warrior in turn." Holding the other's gaze, he continued, searching the other's face for a hint of boredom or disinterest. "Stoatpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code; to defend and protect the lives of your Clanmates, to trust them and give your life to stand for everything we hold dear, whether they are loved or hated?"

Some dim part of his mind wondered if he should have backed off on that, should have simply given standard, traditional words that floated off the tongue easily. And yet, as he looked down at this young cat - so full of potential - he couldn't bring himself to just go through the motions. Stoatpaw had been thrown aside by his father, and seemed unwilling to open up to any of the other apprentices. He hadn't made any true, lasting friendships, hadn't even offered to, and in the core of his being Minkstar couldn't help but feel a kinship to that. And a stir of warning. No cat should be alone. You'll need to trust somebody, kit. A twinge at his own past behaviour tugged uncomfortably at his mind, bringing to light all the times he'd refused to trust others, often with disastrous results. From someone who still has problems with it to another.

Thrushnose should have been prepared for Stoatpaw’s warrior ceremony. Really, she should have expected it. Her son had taken to apprenticeship and its endless lessons as quickly as his mother, with twice her enthusiasm and none of her fear (though unlike her, he’d gotten through it with no battle scars to boast about); it only made sense that he’d race through it. Hearing as much from Minkstar, however, caught her utterly off guard. Even as she chose a spot near the Highrock, alone but with enough room for her daughter or siblings to join her, some part of her hadn’t stopped reeling. She’d been there every moment she could, yet she still felt she’d missed something, still felt as if Stoatpaw had grown up while her back was turned. It was just as bittersweet the second time.

At least Stoatpaw wouldn’t start his warriorhood pinned beneath Asylum’s claws. Maybe watching her kit promise his life to ThunderClan would be easier if she wasn’t so afraid he’d lose it.

As Minkstar began to speak, Thrushnose raised her head as if he’d addressed her instead of Stoatpaw, her ears angled to catch every word. Confusion flickered in her eyes. Either she was misremembering every warrior ceremony she’d ever seen, or that wasn’t the traditional vow. Different though it might’ve been, it seemed sound—especially coming from her father—and she settled back, tail curling at her side as she waited for her son’s response.

As expected, the ceremony began and Minkstar called him by name. Despite being related through blood, he hardly knew the leader before him. With each passing day, the stunning orange tom had become less and less of this far away figure, seeming more like another cat than a star far away from them, hovering in the night sky. It shocked him a bit still to hear the measures of humor from the leader. Minkstar had been through some things, beyond what a young apprentice could comprehend, but he understood being distant from those around him.

Against his better judgement, the little brown and white tom found his whiskers twitching and dismissing the embarrassment that had briefly heated his ears. Stoatpaw's gaze didn't break away and he waited for the elder tom to continue. His ears swiveled as a thought came to him - was Thrushnose watching? Was she proud of him for accomplishing so much in a short time? Would his father even spare a glance? Every so slightly his pads gripped the ground and he silently cursed himself for even considering such a thing. None of that matter. Minkstar was speaking once again and it was time to take vows.

The familiarity of them washed over him. So many ceremonies he had watched as a kit, waited for as an apprentice, had captivated him; but it wasn't for the reason most cats though, not the awe and wonder of a starstruck apprentice. Stoatpaw found himself enamored with the cats who were at the heart of it all and one significant fact - whether or not they truly believed what they were saying. Minkstar always seemed genuine enough, perhaps pulled in moreso by a previous blunder. Now he stood before them all to make the same vow.

Yet, keen as his mother, the little tom quickly caught on to the difference in ceremony. His ears twitched and there was a brief pause as he digested what he had just heard. To trust them? Stoatpaw had always looked over his shoulder on patrols, doubting the perceptiveness of the cats next to him. He'd been born into this world with a father who sought nothing more than to forget him. Being such an insignificant scrap, every decision he'd made centered around preserving his own hide. Care for the next cat was extended only in the most unassuming ways. Stoatpaw was not a bad cat in the slightest, nor often rude, but he buried this pain deep. It seemed that Minkstar wanted to pry it out like a splinter.

"I do, Minkstar." He heard himself say, in a manner that seemed almost akin to a challenge. Swallowing back the rising insecurities, Stoatpaw stopped, pondering his own sincerity for once. They would all find out how sincere it was on the moons to come, together.

The answer came back strong, almost defiant, and Minkstar searched that young face, a hint of the emotions that were clearly underneath showing subtly in the eyes that stared back at him. With a slight nod, Minkstar raised his voice, moving on to the final part of the ceremony. "Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Stoatpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Stoatfur. We honour your intellect and devotion, and welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan."

Leaping down from the rock as the clearing erupted in cheers, he approached the new warrior with a smile, the green of his eyes slightly thoughtful. "I have a feeling you'll do well, Stoat." Tapping him on the shoulder with his tail-tip, he added, "Just remember, trusting your Clanmates doesn't mean they have to define you, either. I look forward to seeing you grow."

With that, he stepped back and smiled over at Thrushnose, giving her shoulder a brief touch of his nose as he joined the rest of the crowd to cheer the new warrior's name.

Stoatfur.

So that was his new name then, huh? It wasn't very imposing, not the kind of thing that would strike fear into an enemy's heart. But it was appropriate at least. The warrior name seemed to echo in his head on a loop, for a reason he could not quite determine. This would certainly take some getting used to. Somehow, the young tom had managed the gloss over the praise following his name, or he certainly would have managed to stand even taller and bolder. Stoatfur was well acquainted with his own abilities and delighted in hearing it - even if he did not have to, nor if he seldom showed pleasure in such a thing.

Before he knew it, Minkstar was before him. He looked up at the leader and blinked slowly. There were more words to be spoken but on a far more personal level than before. Stoatfur dipped his head slightly. It might have seemed a proper address for Thunderclan's leader, yet it was something deeper following the interaction before the clan. The ginger-patched tom had prodded at something Stoatfur did not even want to consider himself which prompted a fleeting moment of insecurity from the new warrior. He quickly righted himself and listened to Minkstar's words.

"Thank you, Minkstar." was all he could manage to say in the moment.