Goldenfang’s Leader Ceremony

Large snowflakes pelted down on WindClan’s camp. The leafbare storm hadn’t let up in moons, giving Goldenfang the perfect excuse to avoid the journey to the moonstone for quite some time. The way her Clanmates looked at her with expectations, Dovefrost’s stern gaze, the looming fear that Dayspring really wouldn’t get better… she knew it was wrong to avoid her responsibilities. Guilt weighed down her heart. Finally, on this particular day, she resolved to receive her lives and title and be the leader WindClan needed.

“Dovefrost? How are we on traveling herbs? I… I’m ready to go to the moonstone. If we don’t have the herbs, I don’t need them. I don’t want to waste resources.” Goldenfang meowed, heart beating quickly, as she stood in the medicine den.

"We are good enough for now, nothing I can't pick up more later." He said to her as he grabbed the required herbs, setting them into two separate piles. One for him, and the other for her. He gave them one last look over, before h nodded. "That will be enough." He said more to himself than her, before nosing a pile over in her direction.

"Eat up, we have a journey ahead of us." He said, before lapping down his own herbs, not even flinching at the taste. "Do you want me to lead the way?" He asked her.

She nodded, accepting the herb pile, and dipped her head to lap them up with a wrinkle of her nose. It had been a long time since she had to eat them, though Dovefrost probably ate them every other day considering his double duty to moonstones for ThunderClan and WindClan. He offered to lead, and Goldenfang was grateful. “Yes, thank you. It’s been a few moons since I was there last, and I don’t know if I’d be able to remember the way with the snow.”

He nodded, a small smile on his maw. "Of course, I would be glad to show you." He told her. With a flick of his tail he led her out of the camp, flinching a little when his paws met the thicker snow.

The tom was still a little amazed by the fact that reaching the Moonstone from Windclan didn't take as long as it did from Thunderclan. He knew Thunderclan was further but he just couldn't help it. As he approached the tunnel, he looked back over his shoulder to Goldenfang. "Stick close, just follow my scent. The tunnel gets tight in some spots." He told her before plunging into the dark tunnel, letting muscle memory guide him.

Once they arrived in the open cavern, the white tom moved off to the side, sitting down out of the way. "Press you nose to the moonstone. Starclan will meet you in your dreams. I will be here when you wake up." He told her. Hopefully when she awoke, she would be Goldenstar.

She halted at the mouth of the tunnel, playing it off by shaking the snow out of her pelt. It was aptly named, mothermouth, the she-cat thought as she peered up to the ceiling of the cave. It didn’t feel familiar. It was a different place entirely from the place she visited as an apprentice. Even the opening looked different—fanged with icicles threatening to chew them to bits.

Dovefrost’s voice pulled Goldenfang out of her scrambled thoughts. She managed to dip her head in agreement and willed herself forward again, walking closely behind him into the darkness. Relief cooled some of the tension in her chest when her eyes adjusted until she could make out the medicine cat’s form. At this point, she had already put all of her trust in him. It would be senseless to doubt him now.

The cave expanded into a decent size, pale white moonlight pouring in through a hole above them. Snowdrift sat precariously on the edge. Some of it had fallen into the cave, melted, and refrozen as slick ice on the moonstone and the ground around it. Goldenfang’s steps were careful as she approached. “I hope to see you soon.” Her meow was punctuated by the cloud of breath that streamed from her mouth and nose. She laid down gently on the freezing cold rock. Blue eyes were already closed by the time her nose made gentle contact with the stone.

The cold stillness of the cave air faded away in moments. The sensation of soft grass and a cool breeze on a greenleaf night welcomed her to StarClan’s territory, and she opened her eyes slowly. She wanted to take in the beauty of the eternal night. She wanted to remember every breath she took in her ancestors’ home and immortalize the anticipation of the coming ceremony. It was strange. A season ago, Goldenfang was a young warrior with a new name and nothing to hold her down but a vague oath. On this night she had a mate and kits and an obligation to make every important decision for her whole Clan. What would tomorrow bring?

The glitter of the stars above was growing brighter, she realized with a passive blink. Her heart had beat wildly just moments ago, but in this moment, the movement of cats in the sky was shockingly calming. They were walking towards her with purpose, and she patiently watched until the nine of them were with her in the field.

The time had come for yet another WindClan leader to rise. It was too soon, far too soon. Goldengale's heart hurt at the thought, but as she separated herself from the rest of the gathered StarClan cats to approach Goldenfang, she felt a flicker of pride. Even if Goldenfang had not been named after her, she had been the one chosen to speak to her when she was just an apprentice, preparing to take her first step into warriorhood. How fitting that once again she was welcoming the she-cat to StarClan, only this time as a deputy preparing to become a leader. The deputy gave her a wordless purr, pleased to see her old guide once more, though she didn’t dare interrupt.

"Greetings once again, Goldenfang. You've come so far since we last saw each other, I couldn't be more proud of the warrior you have become." Goldengale purred, tail curling. "I do hope you remember me, but in case the moons have faded your memory I am Goldengale. It's so good to see you again." Goldengale sat down now, her face taking on a more serious expression as she passed the welcome. "Daystar has led WindClan well, but the terrible illness that struck her so suddenly has left her unable to continue to lead WindClan the way it needs to be. I'm so terribly sorry we weren't able to help more, there is only so much that we can do. Wounds are easier than an illness." She mewed, her face falling briefly. "Now, however, it is your turn to rise in rank to lead WindClan into the future. Your paws and choices will guide your clan for moons to come, and I am excited and honored to be a part of it. I know that you'll do great things Goldenfang, but I also know that it won't be easy. There will be unforeseen challenges, difficulties, and trials that will be thrown at you. Some will be closer than others, but each will come with their own choices and hardships. In order to face them head-on, and take them in stride, I present you with the life of courage. Courage to stand tall against those that would oppose you, to be steadfast against the raging currents of change and adjust accordingly. To do what's right, to dive headfirst into what troubles you and your clan, to find a solution and implement it to bring peace. It won't be easy, and there will be cases where there's no one right answer, or even a right answer at all, but you need to have the courage to stand by your choice, or admit when you are wrong."

Leaning forward, Goldengale gently touched her nose to Goldenfang's, closing her eyes as the life surged forward into the she-cat's body. Fear gripped her heart, pulsing through her veins like a liquid fire that was relentless and seemingly never-ending. As if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, hard unmoving stones below waiting to pierce a faltering heart. A tunnel that yawned into two different directions, both leading to unknown territory but knowing there was no way to turn back the way you had come. A warm light, a burning emanating from the heart that seemed to steel her mind and guide her paws, before she made a choice and plowed forward, charging through the unending darkness. Doubt and hopelessness pulled at her belly, but the light led her on, continuing to put one paw in front of the other as she finally burst through the darkness into light. Opening her eyes, Goldengale gazed at Goldenfang, hope and appreciation mixing in her expression. "It… won't be easy, Goldenfang. There is still much you don't know, and much you will have to face. But you will never be alone, and I hope the courage I've granted you will aid you in those moments. Take care of our clan, Goldenfang." With those final words of parting, Goldengale turned and rejoined the crowd of StarClan cats, settling in to watch the rest of the ceremony play out.

The living queen was left gripping the soft earth with her claws. Though she smiled back at Goldengale, she was bewildered, frozen in her place, unsure of what exactly had happened.

Lilacsong was next to step forward, more sure of herself than she had been in life. When she was leader, she did not make the best decisions to aid her Clan, and she lived in regret over that, eventually choosing to not lead at all. But now, she could do something for her Clan. She can give a life to the cat who will guide them in future moons to come. “Greetings, Goldenfang. It has been a while, hasn’t it? Last I saw you, you were hardly out of the apprentice den! You sure have grown up well. I wish I had not isolated myself the way I had, maybe I would have been able to watch you and my son raise my grandkits, even be in their lives…” The molly shook her head sadly, trailing off. “This is not a time for me to relive my regrets, though. It is time for you to rise up as leader, one that is better than any who has come before you. Learn from the mistakes we had made, and forge your own legacy. It will not be a simple task, and many will try to shake you from your path. So with this life, I give you the life of conviction. Hold tight to what you believe to be right, and never let yourself falter.”

Touching her forehead to Goldenfang’s, a fire surged through her, raging fierce, and yet filled with doubt. It was as though she were balancing on the edge of a ravine, nowhere to go but forward. Winds were determined to push her over the edge, into the depths below, but something kept her steady, and so she kept going on. Straightening herself, Lilacsong looked at the soon to be leader in front of her, her expression warm.
“Don’t make the same mistakes I had. Your heart knows what is right, and your Clan will follow you. Don’t let doubt take you over.”

“We still love you, Lilacsong,” Goldenfang whispered, barely able to recover before her former leader stepped away. “We never stopped.” Her exhaustion was growing, just a little bit more than annoying but not enough to make her quit. She just needed to catch her breath. She hadn’t expected the emotional toll.

”Easy now.” An orange and white tabby crooned, emerging from his spot amongst the glittering grasses. ”We mustn’t forget our mortality. We, my friend, are dead. What’s happened in the past shouldn’t bar such a strong hold on the future. We only exist to observe, lest we become more like our enemies.” The tom took a moment to let his words sink in, his warm yellow gaze was filled with no malice, but instead amusement, sparkling at the chance to banter with friends. The golden she-cat observed without interrupting, keen to see as much of her ancestors as possible.

He turned his attention to the reason for their summons. Goldenfang was a sturdy moor cat, with enough cheek to barter the ears off a fox, and the legs to run when it turned to bite. She was Graybriar’s kin, and through that, Barleytuft’s kin. If the leader had perhaps lived another day, he could’ve seen her grow into a fine warrior. Instead he watched from the stars, much more content with his mate and kits. The moors were beautiful and vast, but love, much more so. ”I do hope the trek to Highstones was good to you. Some days, it can be awe-inspiring to gaze upon the mountains, but other days, there are dogs, or tricky rogues that wear animal pelts, or…” He smiled, it was a large, genuine smile, as if he had known Goldenfang all her life. The tom wanted to see her thrive, he wanted to see her soar. She was a spirit that could lead WindClan, that, he was sure of.

”I am Finchstar, of WindClan. It was your father that guided me when I first received my nine lives, now I am glad to be here to give you yours. It’s painful, as I’m sure you’ve experienced. StarClan really is the dramatic sort, whoever decided that the gift of life needed to be riveting and claw-biting didn’t very much enjoy living at all, hmm?” He let out a soft breath from his nose, reminiscing on the past. Even though his lives were painful things when received, he enjoyed each and every one of them. When they were gone, however, Finchstar couldn’t climb to StarClan fast enough. His love waited for him here, the cat he lived for. He wondered if Goldenfang would be so willing to let go of life when the time came. It would certainly come… again and again. She reminded him of his late medicine cat, Aspenheart. Doomed with funny legs and a strange walk. He was confident and stubborn enough for all of WindClan. Finchstar supposed that was how he conquered his condition. The tom looked into Goldenfang’s eyes and wondered when she’d learn of hers. To die, again and again, with no cure in the forest. A cruel thing, yet perhaps there was no better cat to lead the clan. How could one lead others into battle when they don’t even understand their own mortality? Goldenfang would. She would be more grounded than the best of them, perhaps.

He knew she would love the moor as one loved their kin. She would run and prance with the speed of a lion. And with every death, there would be sadness, fear, heartbreak. But if anything could keep a cat tied to a plane, it was love. And Finchstar wished to give her that gift. ”Moons ago, I gave a life to Raventail in the form of love when he came for his nine lives. I wish to do the same for you. But perhaps… a different kind of love. A soft love, something one feels when you awaken in leafbare and the sky is white. When you run through the heather and your pelt smells of flowers. And when you hunt a rabbit, knowing it will warm the bellies of kits and elders alike. Love, Goldenfang. Love your kin, love your clan, but most of all, love life. We are only here for so long, and perhaps, our time limit makes it that much more precious. You are here today, never forget that, and never take it for granted.” He pressed his nose to the she-cat’s, a genuine smile on his maw, yellow eyes closed. He imagined the gorse bushes and the ryegrass that rippled in the wind. She would love it as he did. And she would make a fine leader.

It was soft and sweet and full of sorrow, and then it was gone, barely a whisper. Finchstar was perhaps the most enigmatic cat Goldenfang had met, and she watched him retreat with some disappointment. But this affair wasn’t for socializing, unfortunately.

It was a somber procession; underhanded brushes of misfortune ever-shading the careful and knowing gazes of those loosely fringed the clearing alongside the young Goldenfang.

Perhaps WindClan was preordained to only ever truly know the lingering touches of instability, terrible fate passed between mentor and protégé like the sharing of blood between sire and offspring, like the very first kiss of life. Brindlestar, in all of her generations that crept forward from the entombment of her cold bones and gradually stripped her of remembrance, had seen far too many ceremonies in the past seasons. Enough so that her not-quite-beating heart, worn down only to a few strained sinews and tattered muscles after a lifetime of disquietude, had served to grow all the more hardened and cruel in the infinite peace of the afterlife.

It was hardly an impressive feat to bundle the ghostly, smudged outline of Finchstar out of the immediate proximity of orbit at the earliest moment of convenience, gleaming pale gaze and twisting rivulets of long-forgotten scars alive with the spark of both frigid starlight and conviction of an unknown desire. A shimmering paw reached out into the immediate space occupied by Goldenfang with little care for comfortability or poise, cruelly hooked claws extending slightly to curl beneath the soft jut of the young molly's chin, ethereal movements pulsating and ebbing as though captivated by an unseen lifeforce lurking beneath the ghostly remnants of flesh and bone. There was a strange spark of heat under the surprisingly gentle connection of contact, frigid sweeping of death clashing violently against the sudden outpour of a well-threaded pulse known only to a truly living creature. Goldenfang’s eyes widened, her breath hitched in her chest. She was enraptured by the unspoken power of the she-cat before her.

You truly have no idea of what predatory birds circle above your head, the intended words, bitter and sorrowful upon her curled tongue, came out instead in the shaping of, "There was no kindness to be sought in the fates of all those who once stood here, right where you are." Abandoning the perch of Goldenfang's chin with little more than an idle drawing of careful claws through downy furs, Brindlestar's once imposing outline remained filled and postured with the tactile nature of ever-ongoing defense, the simple inability to sit back and let the red strings of fate weave without interruption. "Lives of a more generous nature have often been given to those who proceed you, yet such gifts have done little other than redirect the winds of misfortune directly to where our Clan stands."

The worst of her nature and innate ill-temperament had been subjugated for Goldenfang's previous counterparts, yet what good had holding back done for her Clan? They slipped through the titleship and teeth of a new forsaken authority figure with each new season, with hardly enough cats within their ranks to call themselves a collection of kin—the bearing of a title such as Clan was practically shameful in such a holding. Those she was expected to fraternize with upon this eve might find themselves willing to divulge dismally short lives promising peace and heart-warming niceties, but what fortune would peace and good-will do? Especially to one who did not even know the wolves and ruination that awaited her at every step?

"Who we are and who we must be to survive are two very different things," Brindlestar eventually sighed, hard tone shaded with the faintest dredges of sorrow, "and relinquishing all that is favorable in our nature is the first of many sacrifices that you will asked to make, despite how little time life often gives us when it comes to matters such as these." Bending forward so that her scar-grizzled muzzle gently brushed against the protruding ridge of Goldenfang's own, the starry molly exhaled softly at the faint brush of liminal contact, an invisible threading of agony webbing out between the pair; the newly-proclaimed successor sharing the innate ancestral burden of a secondary life meant to be wielded as though it was nothing more than armor donned for the procession of consciousness. "With this life, I give you the blessing of aberration- it takes strength to embrace the strange parts of yourself, to tread within the reaches of your own darkness and utilize it for all the advantages it can bring you in moments of despair and hopelessness. It can be the strength that is never fleeting, even when all else is."

Her chest was closing in. Panic was screaming in Goldenfang’s mind, get out, get out! echoing even as her limbs remained as rigid as the roots of the Great Oaks. Desperation dulled her senses until her vision faded back in, and she found herself still in the same field, still caressed by Brindlestar’s fierce presence.

Brindlestar remained close for a few integral seconds longer, intimate with the sharp flood of pain likely dousing the young WindClanner standing just ahead of her, pale gaze reflectance with the sharp gleam of white starlight and some otherworldly knowingness. "While some might view the wielding of unpredictability as a weakness, it should be embraced like a secondary skin meant to shield you from all those who mean to know you, who mean to bring harm." Little else was said or divulged upon the old molly's behalf as she withdrew with little fanfare, marbled tail whisking sharply in the direction of Rippedstar in their immediate passing.

There was the faintest of smiles across the tom’s maw as he passed Brindlestar, dipping his head in acknowledgement. Brilliant blue eyes had watched with interest as lives were passed down to the new leader that would stand at Windclan’s helm. Although in life, he had separated from Windclan at an early age, there was a large part of him that had never abandoned care for the clan he’d been born into. Rippedstar had never held any ill-will towards Windclan, he wanted to see them do well, to thrive, and that was the very reason that he stood before Goldenfang now. She was a cat whose drive and enthusiasm would hopefully carry her through a successful leadership, through the turbulence and moments of blissful peace. He hoped she would be able to both utilize it, and tame it.

The black and white patterned tom stepped before the she-cat and lowered his head in a similar manner for moments before, a silent greeting. He was rather small in stature, physically unimposing, but the manner in which he walked was self-assured - that of a cat who had found himself, mixed with the molding that came from leadership. A rather unusual myriad of scars crossed his coat. Most were the usual signs of their harsh and wild life in the forest, but crossing his maw were vicious claw marks. No right minded warrior would allow an enemy to tear into their face so freely, it suggested there was a deeper story behind those scars—one not worth sharing at a time like this.

“It’s nice to meet you, Goldenfang. My name is Rippedstar, I was a former Skyclan leader. However, my story started in Windclan. I never forgot my birthclan, never despised them, regardless the circumstances. I hope that this life can provide you what I lacked during my short time as leader. I give you the life of vigor.” It was a painful memory, to remember how broken he had become after Crowstar’s death. Many trials had pressed an unbearable weight upon his shoulders, for the short moons of his leadership. There was a regretful sorrow in his gaze at the memory - a greatest regret, things he couldn’t change. But that would be different for Goldenfang. His gaze became that of a determined steel as he stepped forward and pressed his nose to hers. It was sudden. She had barely recovered from the last.

This life was relentless, untamable, and thrilling. It threatened to rip Goldenfang in two but also lift her paws to soar like a bird over the moorlands. Even as Rippedstar pulled away and the sensation began to fade, it left a buzz in its wake - a lasting radiance to carry her through what was to come. His maw was neutral for a moment, briefly considering the many things that ran through it, but slowly transformed into a contented smile once again. Just as he longed for Skyclan to blossom amid these harsh seasons, that feeling extended to this she-cat, and to the clan she would now lead.

“May this life leave you with unending enthusiasm for the position you hold. It is a burden and a blessing. While there may be many cats whose lives rest on your paws, they will stand at your side and support you. Do not let yourself be crushed by this weight but rather seek a passion for those you lead, and an enthusiasm for the life you’ll now lead. Don’t make the same mistake I did and forget that.” He dipped his head once more, slower this time, allowing his gaze to linger for a moment before pulling away to allow the next cat to take their place.

Goldenfang held his gaze for as long as he remained. She was grateful for the unexpected second wind, and she was intrigued by the rival Clan’s leader. He gave her a gift despite the direct competition, even rivalry with his life-Clan, and he had meant every word. She hadn’t expected such a kindness. Much like Dovefrost’s unexpected support. Perhaps there could be more to Clan life than fighting one another to the death.

Next, a soft gray-furred she-cat stepped up. There was a surprising fluffiness to her pelt, and stars twinkled across her entire body, shining brightest in her spring-green eyes. There were a myriad of scars hiding beneath her pelt, but they didn’t seem to pain her as she walked gracefully forward, gaze meeting Goldenfang’s with a warm smile to match. ”My name is Ashstar,” she meowed kindly, voice a low cadence that felt gentle on the she-cat’s ears. “It is very nice to finally meet you. Your ancestors have been watching you, Goldenfang, and we are proud of who you have become. I am proud of you. You have gone through much, but you have stayed strong in the face of many trials. That is certainly more difficult than it looks.” As she recalled her past experiences, Ashstar’s eyes grew distant. As when she had talked to many of Goldenfang’s predecessors, memories danced in front of her eyes, both happiness and heartaches being relived in an instant.

Warm pride glowed in Goldenfang’s chest and face. She was feeling somewhat bashful at Ashstar’s praise, though the overwhelming energy was much more like gratitude; that her ancestors loved her, that she’d made someone proud, that her shortcomings were already forgotten in the eyes of her spiritual guides… in a different setting, she may have fought back tears. But Ashstar was speaking again, and she wanted to hear every word.

”Like many others in this crowd, I too was WindClan’s leader for a time. That time brought many triumphs, but just as many hardships, if not more. I’m sure you are already aware, but the path of leadership is not an easy one. It is paved with the lives of your Clanmates, with harsh words, difficult choices, and many other things that will beat you down.” At the leader’s words, Goldenfang recalled the terror of being ambushed by SkyClan in her own camp, accompanied by the shame of having been tricked by some lowlife foxheart. A slight pain tinged Ashstar’s eyes at the knowledge of what Goldenfang would have to deal with in times to come. ”As leader, you have the ultimate responsibility over your Clan. Whether blood is shed in a battle, whether cats starve to death in a harsh season, whether other leaders are your allies or enemies... these will all come down directly to you. However, there is something you must always keep at the forefront of your mind when you must make decisions.”

”With this life... I give you justice.” The leader’s green eyes flared as she leaned her face down to Goldenfang’s, piercing through her gaze and seemingly into her soul. The smile was replaced by a determined twist to the she-cat’s mouth. ”As a leader, many decisions will be yours to make, and yours alone. Other cats will try to tell you what to think and feel. Sometimes you will be reviled, even hated, for decisions you make. But you must not let them determine what is best for your Clan. Above all else, you must be just. Do not hold back punishment on other leaders or warriors who cause pain to your Clan. Do not even be soft on your own Clanmates who break the code, or disobey your direct orders. Even when others proclaim that you are wrong, justice will be your ally. No one can take that away from you. Do what you feel is right, even in knowledge of the pain it will inflict. No one gets through this life without pain. As leader, it will be your decision whether or not to mete punishment to those who deserve it. Do not let traitors escape unscathed, and stand up for what is right. I promise you, even though it will be difficult, it will be worth it. Justice is the only way to be certain the blood of the dead does not cry out against you from the ground.”

With those words said, Ashstar touched her nose to Goldenfang’s. As the pain of the life rippled through the deputy, feeling like a million claws raking through her skin and a million insults tearing through her soul, images flashed in front of her eyes: an apprentice with a broken jaw, stores of medicinal herbs lying trampled into the ground, a black and white cat looking scornfully down his nose, a glaring gray-furred leader on the Great Rock, the corpse of a young cat laid mournfully in the center of camp, the betrayed look in the eyes of a trusted friend, red blood seeping into white snow, a broken and twisted paw, a flash of teeth at a cat’s throat. Myriad voices cried out, screaming for justice, pleading for mercy, desperately threatening with empty words in the pursuit of fairness. As these scenes passed rapid-fire through her mind, the pain grew stronger, but a strange sense of power was filling the gaps left behind by uncertainty. The pain gradually faded, leaving her muscles sore, but Goldenfang felt stronger, like she could knock down a tree with one blow. If she had to guess, the knowledge of being right could drive a cat to do anything necessary.

The pain of the life’s gift faded, and as Goldenfang looked up to see the gray-furred leader, she found her smiling again despite the horror of her gift. ”You are a remarkably strong she-cat, Goldenfang,” she purred, warmth radiating from her voice, and the deputy felt herself release her clenched muscles. ”I know that you will be able to accomplish so much with your nine lives, despite the many hardships that await. WindClan will truly benefit from your rule, so long as you keep justice as your constant companion. Do not let others keep you from doing what is right.” With a nod and those last words, Ashstar faded back into the starry crowd, sitting near her former deputy Brindlestar who had come before her, and offering a respectful nod to the next tom who stepped up for his turn.

Falconstar was the next leader to step forward. His heart felt for Goldenwhoever - Goldenstar - but there was nothing he could do besides grant her as much of his power as he could. Despite her blood being impure, WindClan needed a leader, and he wasn’t going to deny her a life. He never had, and he figured that he never would. He stood in front of her, gently touching his nose against the top of her head. “With this life, I give you loyalty. This clan needs a strong leader now more than ever. Remember the lessons of your predecessors, and stay true to your clan. All of WindClan will need your guidance, and it’s your duty to guide them to prosperous times, above all other clans.” Above all others clans. That felt more pertinent now than it ever did.

Lilacsong couldn’t help but snort at this. She knew exactly what he meant by this, she was sure every cat that wasn’t Goldenfang knew. Oh how she wanted to yell out. And who do you consider her Clan? Half of these cats wouldn’t have been here if you had a say in it!

For a few heartbeats, Goldenfang felt as though she were an eagle, soaring across her territory and enveloping her home in her wide wings of protection. She was the first and last line of defense for her family, and she was energized to watch it more closely than a new queen. Reality, or rather dream-reality, was setting back in until she could see Falconstar turning away from her.

Falconstar stepped back into the semi-circle of fellow StarClan cats, giving a nod to Raccoonstar, who was to step up next. His former leader, even in StarClan he held much respect for her.

Raccoonstar nodded back to her former deputy once he gave her the go ahead. The gray leader untwined herself from her mate’s side, stepping forward with the grace she once carried in life. Once she had reached Goldenfang, cold blue eyes looked the she-cat up and down for just a second, before the old Windclan leader spoke. ”Welcome Goldenfang, I am Racconstar. I know that it’s hard to be here, when you feel like you shouldn’t be. That someone else should still be here in your place instead of stepping back from the leadership role.” The ring-tailed leader glanced back to her mate remembering the time he had announced his retirement. How she felt that he would have been able to serve still, but it wasn’t her choice to make. She had to step up into her role and do what was best for Windclan. As for Goldenfang, her mind jumped to Lilacsong and Dayspring. How unfair their times had been.

”But sometimes it's that insistence… that drive to be set in what you know is right, that will help you along your path. To not sway from the words of others that wish to deceive you into not helping your clan.” Her tail flicked behind her for a moment as she paused in her speech. ”With this life, I give you steadfastness. Be set in what you know is best, be set in what you know is right. Do not bend in the wind that is the other clans. Lead to the best of your ability, and if you do that, your clan will back you up the whole way.”

As Racoonstar pressed her nose to Goldenfang’s, a memory appeared in her mind. Sitting on the great rock with other leaders the clans no longer remember. Their looks were sour, but the clan on the ground below filled with pride because their leader had defended them. A second later pain replaced the memory, battle cries filled the air. The old cats of Windclan were fighting together triumphantly against other clans, knowing what they were doing was right. That their leader was leading them on the right path. Though there was the paralyzing pain of ripped fur and rising adrenaline, a sense of righteous fury carried her through the battle of someone else’s claws. Soon everything faded once the she-cat had stepped back.
”There is going to be a lot of pain on this path, but as long as you’re willing to accept the challenges it brings. You will do just fine. Lead strong Goldenfang, to the very end.” With that, the gray leader turned to join the others, headbutting her mate on her way before he stepped up to give the new leader her last life.

Stormeye sat ridged among the leaders, tail curled around his mate as he quietly watched Goldenfang step forward and the ceremony begin. While he was the oldest of the cats gathered—the first of this long line of leaders, he had gotten to know them rather... well, he supposed. Both from watching their leadership from StarClan and speaking with them in the afterlife. He had his opinions—he certainly didn't agree on many things, but then again he didn't fully agree with how his mate's leadership had turned near the end. But such was the way of life—he had come to terms with what had transpired, everything that had unfolded after his death. For everything they disagreed upon, they could find a peace between them and their love had remained strong throughout the countless moons among the stars.

But he was not a cat to interrupt—he would wait his turn, watching as each cat stepped forward—going through the ages until finally it had reached his generation. Falconstar finished, stepping back to allow Raccoonstar to step forward. The retired leader let out a disappointed hum as his mate was forced to pull away, leaning in as she got up to move to chase after her fleeting warmth until he settled back unhappily among the crowd. He straightened up to his full height, looking as noble as he could manage as he knew once Raccoonstar was done, all attention would be on him… and he would be the final life to give. His yellow eyes remained fixed on his mate, listening as she spoke, gave her life and moved back towards him. He leaned forward to meet her headbutt half-way, pushing himself to his paws with the movement before he slipped past  her towards where Goldenfang remained waiting.

"Greetings," he spoke, dipping his head as he came to a stop a tail-length in front of the soon-to-be leader. "I am Stormeye - once Stormstar - of WindClan. The life I give you is the life of Connection," he meowed, whiskers twitching as his eyes grew serious. "Your leadership will not be easy - you will be faced with things that nothing could ever prepare you for. In the face of such hardships, it will seem easy to withdraw upon yourself - either because you believe you alone can withstand the storm or don't wish to burden others... But it is never the case," he meowed, gaze shifting away a little as he grew lost in thought - thinking of the events that had led to his retirement. "Under my rule, the Clans were besieged by a threat that nearly took us out when we stood alone. It took standing together with the Clans to reclaim what was lost - a tale that seems to be echoed among the Clans too often for comfort," he mused a little with a shake of his head. "That night I learned that despite all of our differences, one must work together to survive. To you, this might mean having to rely on the other Clans... Or even just your own Clanmates," he meowed, gaze turning back to Goldenfang.

"You will be leader, Goldenfang, but you will not be alone. No matter how much the pain you may have seems to be your burden - rely on your Clanmates to support you. They will not let you fall."

With those words, he stepped forward and touched his nose to Goldenfang's and allowed the final wave of pain wash over her. A crushing weight came over her as if the tunnel had collapsed on her small shoulders, and for a brief moment, Goldenfang genuinely thought receiving this final life would actually kill her. Her paws were on the edge of giving out, but she had nowhere to collapse. Her legs were locked in place. She found herself gasping for air, willing herself to keep breathing. Then a piece of that weight disappeared, and then another, and more still as though someone else was picking up pieces of her burden. Soon the entire weight was nothing but the sheer exhaustion of undergoing such a strenuous ceremony. Goldenfang’s joints were still sore, though, as if the invisible weight had been too real. She glanced up at Stormeye, tired, aching, wordlessly begging for the ceremony to be done with. He graced her with the concluding words that she wasn’t sure she’d live to hear.

"With this final life given - rise up, Goldenstar, leader of WindClan," he spoke, giving a grand wave of his tail towards the other leaders (and Goldengale) that stood behind him. "We welcome you as leader and know you will do WindClan proud." With that, he dipped his head - allowing the voices of the StarClan cats behind him to rise up to welcome to new leader, and allowing her a final word...If she could find her voice after the pain of gaining so many lives.

“I will remember… everything. Everything. I swear.” Goldenstar gasped. It was the best promise she could offer right now. And when her feet fell out from underneath her, eyes closing in anticipation of crashing into the star-laden ground, no impact was made. Her eyes, heavier than she could remember in moons, fluttered open with a loud gasp. She was back with the living, in the cold moonstone cave now darkened without the presence of the moon. She shifted back onto her haunches. The freezing cold was a jolt back into reality. Goldenstar glanced towards Dovefrost’s form and waited to catch her breath. “It’s done.”