Martenkit's Apprentice Ceremony

Perchfall squared her shoulders, preparing herself, and jumped onto the Willow Branch. It was about midday, and she couldn't remember seeing the sun this high in the sky, unobscured by clouds, since before leaf-bare. Her memories of a more plentiful leaf-fall were growing hazy. However, despite the new warmth and hope that the melted snow should bring, a deep apprehension still gnawed at the deputy's stomach. Like a lingering slime in the back of her throat after the one time she had been desperate enough to try eating a frog. The Dark Forest still lingered like shadows around the camp. Thankfully, none of them had ever tried to interrupt her since the Gathering. Maybe they were busy elsewhere... though she didn't want to imagine what they might be doing. Either way, all she could do was her job. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own fish gather for a Clan meeting."

Hearing the familiar voice of the deputy, a soft gasp escaped her maw. Is it my turn? she wondered, heartbeat already steadily increasing. Her neatly groomed pelt was a glossy reddish-orange, kit fluff still very much prominent. Itching to get out and train, or to just... do something- Martenkit eagerly awaited Perchfall's next words. Her littermates were already out there and she couldn't bear not being able to help with anything, instructed to stay in camp. I'm ready for this. Let me show you!

When she saw the kit in question, Perchfall nodded. Another one of Flywhisker's kits... she looked ready to serve the Clan. Another pair of paws would never be a bad thing. "Martenkit, you have reached the age of six moons and are ready to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Martenpaw. Egretstorm will be your mentor. I trust that she will pass all she knows onto you." The older warrior had been on patrols with her a few times, and she trusted her to be a good mentor. With a nod to the new apprentice, Perchfall ended the ceremony.

With a joyous expression written on her face, she savored every detail of this ceremony. Breathless with excitement, the little ruddy apprentice turned to find the mentioned warrior. Egretstorm... Egretstorm... I don't know which one! Egretstorm makes me think of someone with a dark-colored pelt... and is a she. A glimpse of panic must've shown in her eyes, but she approached a warrior she assumed was Egretstorm with caution, just in case she wasn't. "Are you Egretstorm?" her quiet voice asked.