Willowpaw's Warrior Ceremony

She'd saved the best for last--perhaps so that she would remain strong through all of the ceremonies she had to do. Not that she truly valued any of these apprentices over the other, but her love for all of her Clanmates could not quite be truly matched by the fierce and unfamiliarly passionate love of a mother that she had been given when she was blessed with her kits. Willowpaw. Her eldest daughter. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather for a Clan meeting," Perchstar called, her voice clear, strengthened by the thought of how lucky she was to perform this ceremony.

Mistwalker was going to be present for this one. The molly was not going to miss it for the world. No matter what dark forest-borne flames reigned down upon their homes, she was going to be here. No matter how much the hunger gnarled at her, or how she coughed, or how speaking hurt her throat... she was going to cheer for her sister, too. Cheer the loudest, because she had worked the hardest. Such determination had hardened itself into the look of the molly as she sat amongst the crowd, instantly looking for the pale fur of her sister. The moment she found it, she moved gracefully, even if a bit slowly, to sit next to her.

Pride that mirrored that of her mother was in her gaze as she sat there. A rare smile flashed on her features, one reserved purely for the molly who was her eldest littermate.

It was easy to spot the two near-identical silver pelts in the crowd. Mistwalker had joined, obviously able to anticipate what was coming. That same hopefulness was in Willowpaw now, though she sat almost completely still, a single twitch of her ear betrayed the eagerness that trembled in her limbs. Perchstar felt her facial features soften from the neutrality she'd been keeping in the hopes of hiding her hunger. There was little point in trying to keep the mask around her kits. Her face would simply show all of the messy emotions that she never knew how to deal with, and there was no going around it. Still, her voice was calm. "Today, we gather to celebrate the advancement of an apprentice to warrior," she said. The full force of the words struck her. Wrenpaw was going to be a medicine cat, so... this was the last time she would get to conduct one of her kits' ceremonies. It sandbagged her for a moment like a blow to the stomach, so she sat blinking something hot from her vision, before managing to continue. "Willowpaw, please step forward."

Her eldest daughter. The one who always tried so hard, who convinced herself that it was never enough, who struggled quietly with feelings of jealousy and then of guilt over that jealousy. Who was loved and adored by her sisters and her mother more than she would ever truly comprehend. Willowpaw, the first sign that no matter what the stars thought of Perchstar, she would be able to feel the fierce affection just as well as any other cat, just as keenly and painfully as those who had come before her. It did not matter where she came from. She was her daughter. She was RiverClan. Perchstar's voice wavered only slightly as she spoke. Hopefully it was unnoticeable. “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 commend her to you as a warrior in her turn." It was her turn now. It had been Mistwalker's, and Tinyshadow's, and Wrenpaw had walked her own path. Now it was her turn. This was her moment. Though Perchstar's eyes were almost full to bursting with pride, they grew somber when they asked the important question. "Willowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?” She did not want to ask her daughter to die. She wanted to ensure her daughter would live a long and happy life, and have many seasons in the Clan's love and service. But the possibility was always there, lurking like a dark shadow. And so Perchstar had to ask the possibility of death for her own daughter. Yet even as she asked, she gave a small nod. She had vowed to protect them with her life. So though she would be required to die for the Clan, Perchstar would die for her, first.

With the last two words, Willowpaw's decision was sealed. A sacred vow that could never be broken. Perchstar closed her eyes for just a moment, allowing the knowledge of her daughter's worthiness and the celebration of her special moment to seep into her bones. Then she opened them, and their light blue seemed almost to glow with the love she could never properly express. "Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name." Every time she spoke her daughter's name, it was full of affection--not obvious in the tone, but just subtle enough of a change that any who knew her well enough could tell. "Willowpaw, from this day on, you will be known as Willowwisp." It was a name that perfectly fit the silvery shine of her fur, the primness with which she bore herself, and yet the bright flame that led her forward in life. Her daughter. Her wonderful daughter. "StarClan honors your calculation and your empathy, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan." A full warrior. Her patience had finally paid off, and she would be a member of RiverClan, as completely and fully as anyone else.

Though her limbs were exhausted from the day's efforts, though her throat wanted to fall silent for moons after its lack of water, Perchstar managed to descend gracefully from the height of the Willow Branch. Silently, on swift pawsteps, she approached her daughter for the final moment of the ceremony. Closer she bore--closer--and then, her soft muzzle touched lightly on the top of Willowwisp's head. Then, just as she had done with Mistwalker and Tinyshadow, she took the gesture further. It was not often that she initiated physical contact. But since it had already begun, she could take the next step. Perchstar's long tail wrapped around Willowwisp's frame. The embrace of mother to daughter. She remained there for a few seconds, time stretching out between them--memories of learning she was pregnant, of tiny kits curled up in willow tree roots, of swimming in the broken pools, of apprentice ceremonies and patrols and gatherings--and all leading to this moment. But she could not selfishly keep her daughter all to herself. Finally Perchstar forced herself to step back, though not without speaking aloud the barest mention of the feelings in her heart. "Congratulations, my daughter. I am proud of you." The love and pride and burning affection that she'd never known before that she could possess, all seemed to leak through the simple words that were all she could manage. Words like this had never come easily to her. But they came all the same. Willowwisp deserved the world. Perchstar would do her best to give it to her.

The instant her mother left her place among the willow tree after calling out her sister's new name, a loud voice would ring out. "WILLOWWISP!" It was perhaps the first time the two-toned molly had ever dared speak so loudly, much less scream. But it was the celebration that her sister deserved.

Immediately following, she quickly recoiled back in. Composed herself, as a warrior should, to allow her sister to be the one to shine. Something akin to embarrassment burned in her chest for just a moment, but with the comforting mist once more hiding how she may as well have been the one who had her ceremony, Mistwalker would be next to follow their mother's congratulations. Brushing her tail against that of the newly-named Willowwisp, a twinkle of excitement slipped through her shared blue eyes. "You deserve it, sister."