Creekkit's Apprentice Ceremony

Another day, another ceremony. Perchfall wasted no time leaping onto the branch, shaking out her short gray and white pelt as soft snowflakes drifted down from above. A small blanket of snow coated the camp, and as she stepped across the branch, small clumps fell off and dotted the ground below. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own fish gather for a Clan meeting," she called, just loud enough to beckom the necessary cats.

Creekkit picked her way to the front of the crowd carefully. She stayed standing with her little bobtail sticking straight up. She didn’t want to sit in the snow and ruin her meticulously groomed pelt, or Birdsong would be disappointed. She looked up at Perchfall with a serious expression. She was quite careful to portray herself as a respectable soon-to-be apprentice.

Perchfall looked down at the kit, pre-planned words flowing from her mouth without thought. This had been terrifying the first time she'd done it, but now it was almost boring. "Creekkit, you have reached the age of six moons and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Creekpaw. Bearspirit will be your mentor. I hope he will pass all of his skill and knowledge down to you." She gave a quick nod to the young cat and older tom, then leapt off of the branch and went to go organize the evening patrol.

Birdsong finished grooming Creekkit's pelt, giving her one last lick to the forehead before stepping back. The former Skyclanner smiled, a part of her still not-quite believing that her eldest was ready to become an apprentice. Worry nagged at her, but from what little she'd seen Creekpaw's new mentor was a decent sort. She would do well as an apprentice, she hoped.