Mistpaw's Warrior Ceremony

Perchstar felt once again the somewhat familiar swell of pride within her heart as she leapt onto the Willow Branch. Moons passed, the seasons turned, and greenleaf was approaching. A season of plenty. A season of promise. And just as the leaves grew on the trees, so too did her kits grow. One of them had worked hard to achieve this honor before her siblings did. And while Perchstar loved all her kits equally, she could not deny that she was proud of Mistpaw for putting in so much effort. Even with the warm feelings, though, came the same droplet of uncertainty. Perhaps... perhaps, now that they were old enough, now that one of them was strong enough to earn the name of a warrior, perhaps it was time. Though she had resolved to answer when they asked it of her, her kits may have been too polite to inquire. She told herself silently that perhaps after Mistpaw's vigil... she would tell her kits of their origin. She did not wish for any of them to feel caught off guard. But in the meantime, it was time for a ceremony--and time for celebration. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own fish gather for a Clan meeting."

Perchstar watched her daughter make her way into the center of camp. Dappled white and silver fur shone like a cloud, one of the reasons for her name made apparent as the sunlight made it glow. The other reason... Mallowmist, long deceased, but whose memory lived on in one of the leader's gifted lives as well as the name of one of her daughters. Hopefully Mistpaw's tentative namesake would be just as proud as Perchstar, who met Mistpaw's gaze with a slow blink of approval. "RiverClan, we have gathered today for an apprentice to advance to the path of a warrior. Mistpaw, please step forward." Once her daughter had done so, coming closer to the Willow Branch, the leader continued. "I, Perchstar, leader of RiverClan, 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 recommend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Mistpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?" The question had weight as it entered the air, seeming to fall down upon the young she-cat below. It was heavy--but not too heavy to bear. That weight could be borne with pride, worn like an adornment of worth, or it could crush the unsuspecting. Mistpaw had worked hard to get where she was, but she had always seemed a little bit lost in the pressures of life. Would this one be too much to expect from her?

Perchstar gave an accepting nod at the resolve with which Mistpaw spoke. The feeling of pride grew. Her daughter had worked hard, despite the early setback of greencough, despite the pressure that likely rode on her shoulders as the kit of a leader, and despite the tensions rising ever higher in the forest. Mistpaw had done it. "Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name." She had thought long and hard about what to say during this moment, for each of her kits. "Mistpaw, from this day on, you will be known as Mistwalker." For the paws that kept striding forward. For the determination that never stopped driving her onward. For the way that she came into the world, striding between the line of Clan and outsider. "StarClan honors your unique perspective and your perseverance, and we welcome you as a fully fledged warrior of RiverClan."

The final part of the ceremony required Perchstar to leap down from the Willow Branch, her form graceful and willowy, and rest her muzzle upon the top of her daughter's head. This moment of physical contact with her Clanmates used to make her uncomfortable. Recently she had become used to it. But now, with her own kit, it felt right. Though she rarely ever initiated physical contact with them since they became apprentices, once Perchstar had finished the ceremonial gesture, she briefly drew Mistwalker close, curling her tail softly around her form. The movement was unfamiliar and clumsy, but it was real. "Congratulations, my daughter." Her words were just as awkward, feeling thick in her mouth. But they were real. These emotions, the love and pride she felt--they were real. And she believed them with everything she had. A moment or so later, Perchstar stepped away, allowing the rest of Mistwalker's family and friends to come and congratulate her.