Cheetahpaw's Warrior Ceremony

"ShadowClan! Gather in the shadow of the Jaggedrock!"

As the call rang out across the camp, the leader sat back on the rock with an intense expression, claws digging at the solid stone beneath him. Words could not describe the emotion the leader had felt when he had been informed of Cheetahpaw's and Pantherpaw's...Training 'accident.' It was stressed to have been truly an accident - emotions getting too heated but as Flintstar was not good with emotions...He wasn't sure how much he accepted that. He knew he was a logical cat, he did not understand the idea of emotions getting the better of cats and he failed to see how scratching ones' eye out could come from...A heavy sigh escaped him, closing his eyes to steady himself. No, it was a matter he would need to get more insight on from his other Clanmates before he decided if Pantherpaw would face any sort of punishment. But now wasn't the time to dwell on Pantherpaw's fate - despite Cheetahpaw having lost an eye, her training had been completed and she seemed to be adapting. It was time for her to become a warrior.

Hearing Flinstar's summons, Cheetahpaw plodded out from the apprentices den, flicking an ear -- which had now been slightly torn in the spar with Pantherpaw.

As per now usual, she hadn't gotten any rest. Her eye had been wide open the entire time she'd spent hidden in the apprentices den. She didn't want to go out. Not that she'd ever fancied socializing to begin with, but now... Oh, she was a terror. She looked absolutely wretched, and she was certain as she passed the nursery now that kits cowered at the sights of her (which for once wasn't a good thing.)

Looking anxiously to the side, the tall apprentice settled in the shadow of the Jaggedrock. She couldn't even stare up at Flinstar, no. He would think she was ugly, a freak weakling.... And, truth be told, maybe she was.

Flintstar glanced over at Cheetahpaw as the she-cat nervously stepped from the apprentice's den, feeling something sink within his chest as it was clear how her injury had effected her. He of course thought little of her injury - after all, his mother had lost her own eye and bore a terrible scar from the accident. She had regained it from her leader ceremony but the scar had remained - and her eyes had never managed to be the right color. He never knew Thornstar when she had her single eye, but her scar had remained for the rest of her life. Then Flintstar, with his own scars - the most obvious being the terrible wound on his leg and the few on his face that had nearly cost him sight in one of his eyes...Well, he would never judge another for their injuries.

"...I've called you all here to witness a warrior ceremony. Cheetahpaw, please step forward," he finally meowed, dipping his head to the she-cat as he waited for her to take the terrifying steps forward before he continued on. "I, Flintstar, leader of ShadowClan, 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. Cheetahpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Murkystrike sat at the base of Jaggedrock as Flintstar called the clan together, head held high. Despite the grievous injury Cheetahpaw had sustained, she had been training hard to work around her disability. She had been happy to report to Flintstar that the young she-cat was ready to become a warrior, and as her apprentice emerged from the apprentice den shakily, anxiously, Murkystrike's heart twisted. It wasn't fair, she was a pawful, but she hadn't deserved to be permanently injured by her sister in a spar. The deputy refused to look around to see if Pantherpaw was in attendance, she was still far too angry with the apprentice's actions. Heat of the moment or not, if she could not control her emotions in a spar with a clanmate, what would stop her from killing another cat in an actual battle just because she lost control? Flintstar called the meeting to order and Murkystrike straightened, gazing at her apprentice with a steady, reassuring expression.

Pantherpaw lifted her head at the familiar call, but she didn’t stir from her nest. Why would she? It wouldn’t be her warrior ceremony, and, quite frankly, she didn’t care about anyone else’s. But her littermate’s name being called made her slowly lift her head from her paws. The black molly slowly padded out of the apprentice den and seated herself as far from the Jaggedrock as she could. Her fur clearly hadn’t been groomed in a while- Pantherpaw usually kept her black pelt pristine, but bits of moss and mud covered her.

This’ll be good for her, she thought, trying to summon up some energy about something. She’s a warrior before me, that ought to show her… I can’t stand it, can’t stand it, can’t stand it… I did this… I did this… she laid her head on her paws and gazed at her sister, hoping she’d enjoy this moment. Hopefully Flintstar would give her a good name, something she’d be proud of… while she, herself, wasn’t expecting to become a warrior anytime soon. She wasn’t worth it… she wondered, idly, who would be sad if she died… her mentor, maybe. Her father, although she rarely spoke to him. No cat else, though. She was the temperamental mouse-brain who ruined her sister’s future- although as a rule she was as far from temperamental as possible.

Pantherpaw shook her head and focused on her sister, trying to give her a supportive look. She was trying… that was all she could say.

OOC: Mobile :")

As Flintstar met her halved gaze, Cheetahpaw turned slightly to face him. Her eye narrowed. Was that.... sympathy she saw in the Clan leader's eyes? As much as she wanted to feel appreciative, to feel for once validated, those emotions were entirely somehow absent. She was practically a warrior now, er, well, would be in a moment. She didn't need sympathy.

Murkystrike, on the opposite hand, at least looked somewhat proud; not looking down on her apprentice as though she were a useless kit. Cheetahpaw puffed her chest out a bit as Flintstar spoke. "I do." she growled, her confidence fanning.

She vaguely noticed Pantherpaw in the back out of the corner of her eye, but chose to ignore her.

Flintstar gave a nod as Cheetahpaw spoke the two words, raising his head to finish off the ceremony. "Then by the powers granted to me, I give you your warrior name. Cheetahpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Cheetahdawn." The name wasn't something he had come up with - no, it had been a name offered up by Murkystrike when he was discussing the warrior names of the apprentices. She had claimed it to be symbolic - that while Cheetahdawn's words might be dark currently, in time she would find the light in her life and a new day would begin. "We honor your determination and dedication, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan."

With that, he jumped off the rock and approached the newly named warrior, resting his chin on her head for a few heartbeats before he took a step back and met her gaze. "...My mother lost an eye when she was an apprentice, although hers was to a badger," he meowed softly, thinking back at the terrible scar that had marred the side of Thornstar's face. It had been a sign of pride for her life - that she had survived such an injury and it had not stopped her from being the best warrior she could. It was why he wore his scars with pride. "It didn't stop her from becoming deputy and later leader - you will find a way to adapt to this new life, Cheetahdawn. Our scars and injuries do not define us."

And then the moment came. At long last, meek and stubborn Cheetahpaw was Cheetahdawn, a full-fledged warrior of ShadowClan.

The young warrior turned the name over in her head, unable to resist a triumphant smirk as she absorbed the pride her promotion allowed her. Cheetahdawn. She was Cheetahdawn, a warrior before her frailer sister, that wretched fox-heart. Lest she dwell on her injury, though -- she would make her Clan proud nonetheless, something Flintstar made clear as he approached her.

Licking his shoulder with a quiet air of gratitude, Cheetadawn nodded along with the Clan leader's words. Was this what it was like to have a father? A cat to support you, a cat who only cheered you on despite your many setbacks. Slowly, gradually, Cheetahdawn's devilish smirk melted into something gentler, a smile of sorts, perhaps; crooked and.... yes, appreciative. "Thank you, Flintstar," she purred. "It means a lot. I.... Thanks. Er, thank you." Her voice still elicited on a sickly rasp, but it sounded stronger, at least, in terms of tone. Cheetdawn felt stronger -- her next words to Flintstar reigned true. "I won't let my injury let the Clan down. I won't let it let me down. I'll make the Clan proud, I swear it."

Shoulders hunching, her mentality renewed, Cheetahdawn slipped past her sister, nodding slightly as she did so. "Don't feel bad," she murmured as she brushed fur with the dark she-cat. "Soon enough, you'll earn your name, too."

And with that, she set off toward the entrance of camp -- to sit her vigil, to guard ShadowClan, to prove her worth. And then, after that, she would make her nest in the warrior's den; she would sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks; she was a warrior now, her injury hadn't stopped her from this moment.