changing seasons [tc deputy ceremony]

Fear was the very first thing to roll off of the tortoiseshell's pelt as she watched the signs develop. As she watched her friend grow more and more ill, as her fur lost its normal sheen, as she seemed to be able to do little more than drag herself onto the Highrock to complete a ceremony, only to collapse in Fawnshine's den immediately afterwards. As the burden of patrols and duties were shifted onto the back of Mottlestar. It was a pattern much too similar of what had happened to Minnowfin, and it truly scared her to her core that the Stars were sending her the warning that they were about to take away her deepest friend again. Thankfully, that seemed to not be the case. But before anything could happen, the molly wanted to offload as much stress as possible, to allow her close friend the most time to heal.

To say that conversation hurt was an understatement. It left her feeling nauseous at best, and horrified at worst. Nothing prepared a cat for such a talk, and she sent a silent note of gratitude towards all the leaders before her that had been tasked with finding another cat to fill the pawsteps of their second-in-command. Not to mention in time of actual grief, whereas at least instead of Mottlestar, she still could go talk to her dear friend.

That didn't make it any easier though. Much as the seasons were changing around the forest, with the promise of newleaf just around the corner, so would the seasons within Thunderclan itself. She couldn't leave that role unfulfilled for long, having a promise to keep to her ancestors as part of her role. She didn't want to jump atop that rock in camp and announce what was going on to her Clan, she truly didn't. But there was little choice that she had in the manner. So, Mottlestar took a deep breath, before willing her legs to follow the pattern they had for so many other joyous occasions. If she was asked, the tortoiseshell truly couldn't answer which was a harder ceremony - that of when she first had to announce she was taking up her late mate's position, or this one. They both stung deep.

Many fitful nights had found her in her sleep as she had been forced to think over who would potentially take over for Thistlemask if it came to the point that she had to step down. Hunts when she secluded herself away from her clanmates, away from her children. It was a deeply internal process, and it wasn't until she had found herself hunting in the dead of night that the answer finally came to her. Whether for better or for worse, she knew.

Nevertheless, as she took a few moments to look out at her Clan, Mottlestar slowly found her way to the edge of the stone surface. A deep, chilled breath filled her lungs to remind her of her sacred duty, fueling the very words she spoke. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a clan meeting!"

Firefly's ears pricked at her mothers call for ThunderClan to gather, dropping everything she was doing to take a seat beneath Highrock alongside the growing crowd. Something was... Off, lately. Though she couldn't quite place a claw on it. What she did know, was that Mottlestar held grief in her heart often these days. The scarred warrior hoped this wasn't bad news.

Acornpaw was loafing outside of the apprentice's den, paws tucked neatly beneath her as her chin was resting on her chin. It might have looked like she was asleep - but she actually hadn't managed to doze off and her head quickly shot up as Mottlestar's call echoed across the camp. She was on her paws in an instance, padding over to take her seat with a flicker of curiosity - was it a ceremony? She knew her warrior ceremony was coming up sooner or later, but judging by the expression on the leader's face...She doubted it was anything as joyous as that.

Darkspirit crept to the edges of the gathering crowd and sat, still in the shadow of trees around the Highrock. Thistlemask was his sister, and he'd known for some time that she was growing ill. Darkspirit hadn't found it in him to attend Dayquill's elder ceremony either. The stars thought it was fitting to punish his family. His siblings specifically. Dirt on them then. Darkspirit had tried to train and become strong enough to eradicate evil in the forest, but all the tom had ever tasted was bitter defeat.

He didn't know what he was missing. He didn't know why he lost all of the time. The brooding tom sat in the shadows and quietly watched. His expression was sour, as always, but he made no attempt to speak.

Curlyfluff had been finishing up some of his warrior duties around camp when Mottlestar's voice sounded above the clearing. Snapping his head in the direction of their leader who was standing atop Highrock, the curly-pelted warrior made his way over with the ever curious crowd. So much had been happening with his clanmates lately and he prayed that Mottlestar was doing alright. The tom had a big heart for his clanmates and seeing them in physical pain and even hurting mentally really took a toll on him. He wanted nothing more than to see every-cat happy and doing great and wondered why StarClan have to make life so difficult at times. Didn't they want to see the forest flourishing instead of downcast?

"I wonder what the meeting is about," Curlyfluff whispered to one of his best friends, Firefly, as he sat down beside the she-cat. Turning his olive gaze back up to the leader, he waited in curiosity at what she was going to announce.

Blazefang couldn’t help but note the heavy atmosphere as she joined the Clan meeting. Thistlemask had been sick, surely everyone had noticed that by now, but she hoped this wasn’t what she feared it was. Was the deputy really that ill?

As much as she had tried her hardest to keep the somber mood away from her Clanmates, it was inevitably going to be contagious. Especially for a molly like her, who always held her head high, even at some of the most horrendous moments. If it truly made her shell break, if it truly got to her heart, it was something worth worrying over. To Mottlestar, it was both a blessing and a curse. She appreciated her Clan for being so perceptive over her, on how she was doing and what troubled her. But on the other paw, sometimes, she wished they didn't. It made processing that much harder, when she felt like she was thrust into the public eye at any moment of the day with her emotions. Not that it was the fault of any of her Clanmates... it was simply what came with her role.

It was a role that now demanded a new successor, and as long as she waited on that rock, the more reality only sunk in. She couldn't delay it. Thistlemask herself had chosen to step from her duties, to cease Mottlestar's hopeful thinking that it was just a simple cough that would go away. The fallacy that had been put in place by the small tortoiseshell to protect her emotions, finally shattered. Because ultimately, it wasn't what she wanted that mattered the most. No, instead, it was what the Clan needed.

They needed a strong figure. Someone who withstood the test of time, who grew beyond their roots. That life couldn't truly ever break, no matter how long it had been. That much she had recognized in her pick, and Mottlestar awaited to spot her entire Clan gather before she stepped forward.

"Thunderclan, as leader, it is not only my responsibility to call you all together in a time of joy and celebration, but sometimes, in occasions of sadness. We all know, and have seen, how Thistlemask has fallen ill over the last moon. It hurts me to say, as I know we all have been hoping for her to get better swiftly, but she has decided to step back from her duties as deputy. This is a choice that I fully support, as I firmly believe in her wellbeing above all else. It was a decision made to help her heal to the best of her ability, and to once more ensure that she can serve the Clan as a warrior for many seasons to come." The words left her, and it felt like a static had gone to her ears. Stars, was she even really paying attention to what she said? Was she tuning it all out, even now, to preserve herself in some sense? But the words had left her. Thistlemask was no longer deputy.

While she wanted to hop down, to go retreat to her den to figure out her next steps, there were no more to make. Mottlestar had pondered every next step to take for the Clan, and this was the final piece. "We thank Thistlemask for her service, and tireless dedication in her role, and continue to hope she will make a full recovery. As the season is changing to Newleaf, it seems that here in Thunderclan as well, we will be walking among a newleaf of our own. While there is time to feel our loss for Thistlemask needing to step down, we must also be here to celebrate the warrior that is to be recognized for their own efforts, for their own dedication and service as they join me as my second-in-command." Her voice grew stronger, and she stood just a little bit taller as she stepped to the side.

"The name that I am about to speak, I ask that they join me here upon the Highrock. No matter what evil seems to have clawed its way through our forest, no matter what troubling times have come upon them both personal and clan-wide, they have always been more than dedicated to Thunderclan. It is that dedication and tireless perseverence that I undoubtedly see the qualities of a leader burning strongly within. I say these words before Starclan, and that they may hear and approve of my choice. Darkspirit, please join me as the next deputy of Thunderclan."

Darkspirit listened to the words of his leader with a dull ache in his chest. His sister had been sick for moons. It pained him to see it and hear about it, but he never said anything to her. He always slunk away and out of sight. Now it was apparently so bad that she could not be deputy anymore. Darkspirit's mismatched eyes went to Satrlingflare in the crowd and his ears flattened. He'd been here quite awhile and was a logical choice... if only Mottlestar knew. Technically it wasn't too late to tell her, but so much time had passed, did that even really matter now? Starlingflare could easily deny it. It would seem that Darkspirit was throwing a petty fit if he tried.

Mottlestar's words droned on, compliment after compliment for the new deputy. His claws sank into the dirt beneath his paws and he drew a long breath. Killing a deputy was going to be far trickier than killing just another member of Thunderclan, but he'd have to manage somehow. If Starlingflare ever got his nine lives and the power of Starclan in his claws, Darkspirit's ambitions would crumble into dust.

"I say these words before Starclan, and that they may hear and approve of my choice. Darkspirit, please join me as the next deputy of Thunderclan."

Darkspirit snapped out of his scheming and blinked at Mottlestar, his claws now sheathed and his ears pricked forward and alert. "...What?" He spoke so softly even a breeze would have drowned out his words. He stared at Mottlestar on the Highrock, frozen in disbelief. After what seemed like an eternity of awkward staring, Darkspirit slowly padded forward. His ears started ringing.

Why would she choose me? I'm almost never here in camp! I always patrol alone... the battles I've been in have been few and far in between and have always been selfish... The Highrock drew closer and his feet kept moving forward. His heart beat faster.

I should turn around. I should decline. Images of Morningstar and Bloodstar flashed in his head. Both of those cats, his father and grandfather, had received power. What did they do with it? Morningstar was an angry cat that used his power to hurt others. All he wanted was the world to burn, no other real goal. Bloodstar was driven mad.

"The toms in my lineage have a history of abusing power... why is she entrusting this to me?" His paws turned and he made his way up the way to the Highrock. The change from the moist, warm soil beneath his paws to cold, hard stone felt like a shock to his entire being.

Finally, Darkspirit stood beside Mottlestar on Highrock and stared down at the clan. Something about being this high above everyone else stirred something inside him. His mismatched eyes fell once more on the large, fluffy gray tom that he despised so much. His half brother. Darkspirit's vision focused only on him and his heartbeat began to slow. The ringing in his ears faded away.

It does put me in a much better position to kill you. Darkspirit thought, slowly feeling a creeping desire for his new position spread throughout him. With that, his mind was made up. Maybe Starclan wanted him to be deputy and eventually leader. He was only one cat, but with a clan at his back, he could kill many, many more evil cats. This wasn't abusing power. He wasn't going to hurt anyone that he didn't think deserved it. He was going to be greater than Bloodstar or Morningstar. He was going to be successful.

"Anyone who knows me knows I'm not one for words but... I will accept this new position. It is an honor to be Thunderclan's deputy. I hope to get to know you all better. I hope to help make Thunderclan strong and proud." Well... that was it. He was no expert speech giver. He'd never thought he'd be in this position anyway. Now that he had it, however, Darkspirit was determined to make full use of it.

I am Justice, and I am coming for your head, Starlingflare and Bloodstrike. You will both bleed for your crimes.

Curlyfluff would be lying if he said that he knew Darkspirit very well, but the tom seemed strong and confident, which was more than enough for the curly pelted warrior. As long as this tom followed the warrior code and served his clan like any other cat would do, he was more than happy with Mottlestar's decision. "Way to go Darkspirit!" he called out cheerfully from the crowd after the newly named deputy said his part. Hopefully, ThunderClan's future would continue to be bright.