Dovepaw's Warrior Ceremony

After Swandive's ceremony came another. Perchstar reascended the Willow Branch, looking down on the half-dispersed crowd. Ravenpaw and Pigeonpaw would be ready for theirs soon--perhaps a little bit later, since both had yet to visit the Moonstone for their journeys. Another one of the rogue-found siblings, though, was more than ready for his name. Despite the death of his mentor, he'd risen to every occasion and completed his training. Swandive had come first simply by virtue of both needing to be done, and her requirements having been met the slightest bit faster, but both were equally worthy. Dovepaw would receive his full name today. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own fish gather for a Clan meeting."


Dovepaw turned from his celebrations with his sister to look up once more at the branch, ears swiveled forward. Normally, meetings called so soon after each other like this meant a string of ceremonies. Quietly, his heart began to pound in his chest when he saw the leader's eyes find him. Perhaps it was his turn, after all. The moment he'd worked hard for... the moment he'd dreamed of all his life.

Perchstar caught his gaze and blinked, signifying that his suspicions were correct. "Another apprentice has completed his apprenticeship and proved himself ready to receive his warrior name. Dovepaw, please step forward."

One brown paw, than another, stepped beneath the Willow Branch into the hollow left for him by the crowd. His warrior name. Somehow when he was younger, he'd thought that achieving the rank of warrior would grant all his dreams. He would finally become powerful enough to protect all those that he wanted to. He would be strong. He would be worthy. And yet, as he glanced up at his leader, he realized that the name wasn't the necessary part. It was him. He'd learned--he'd grown--he'd trained. The strength was something he'd had to acquire himself. Through grueling days of sparring, nights of learning new moves, hot afternoons spent fighting off snakes by the river. Everything passed in the blink of an eye. It had led him to this moment, it was true... but this was simply the culmination. It was the next step. He would never stop growing, learning, changing. He couldn't, because if he did then it would never be enough. He'd already failed to protect Pigeonpaw when she vanished. Failed to save Egretswoop from certain death. He would have to keep going so that someday, he would be a warrior strong enough to keep anyone safe. Strong enough that no one would dare to challenge those he loved.

Murkyriver's presence had found itself particularly focused to the edge of the crowd, hesitant to fully pull herself amidst the summons. Her hesitance did not present itself in the shape of feeling as if she did not have a role within Riverclan; it was instead out of the self-discipline to guard the tom who was the entire focus of her gaze. Momentary flickers would find her passing to the actual situation at hand, and her own cheers of congratulation had echoed at the newly-named Swandive. But beyond that, she had kept distant to keep hold of her sanity. It would be unseenly of the molly to protect him so fiercely in the heart of camp, where any cat surrounding him was one who was there to keep him safe just as much as she was. Her heart raced with the odd sensation of anxiety as she had kept herself away, but it was for good reason, too. This celebration was for Dovepaw and his siblings, and it was not her place to partake in the spotlight.

So to the shadows she kept, and an ear flicked with particular curiosity as Perchstar once more beckoned the crowd. She had not moved from her spot, simply opting to allow the crowd of clanmates to disperse around her, and it had worked unintentionally in her favor. The assessing gaze of burnt embers looked towards the smoothed ice of her leader, the curiosity slipping through her own mask of shade and river.

Answers were soon enough provided as the tom's name was called forth. It was at that moment that the anxiety that had coiled in her chest came to a fine point, before finally receding. In its place came a different type of anxiety: anticipation. The gaze of defense turned to that of expectancy as she looked upon the tom who had come to more than deserve his name. He had stared into the same abyss she had and come back from it with significantly more grace than she had ever managed. That alone was due a name. He was right to be recognized. She could see the doubt that swirled in the back of his mind, and tilting her head ever so slightly forward, allowed a slightly heavier breath to flow directly towards him as a hopeful just-enough a distraction to break that thought.

He deserved his name.

He wasn't wearing the fox pelt. It lay safely tucked beneath his nest--the nest he would be moving tonight. But that was all right, because he felt its weight across his shoulders even so. He knew that Egretswoop was watching... and he knew that she was proud. The thought gave him the strength to straighten his shoulders and meet his fate head-on.

“I, Perchstar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn." His turn... it was his turn. The leader's ice-blue eyes grew suddenly intense, and he found he could not look away. Her every word burned into his consciousness like a demand more than a question. "Dovepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Protect and defend.

Faces flashed in front of his eyes, each disappearing as quickly as the last. Pigeonpaw. Ravenpaw. Swandive. Owlcall. Egretswoop. Mothpaw. And, for some reason, Murkyriver. He felt her ember-orange eyes on him from the crowd, even now. She was counted among those for whom he took this vow. His limbs tightened with renewed resolve. He would protect his Clan. He would defend his Clan. And especially, more than anything else, he would protect and defend those he loved with claw, with fang, with blood, and with his final breath if need be. It wasn't too much to ask. It was the vow he had taken ever since he began this life, and it was the vow he would carry until his death. Speaking it aloud simply sealed it, solidified it so that none could deny. No predator, no enemy would stand in his way. RiverClan was his home. No matter whether he came from rogues, from ThunderClan, or from somewhere else entirely, none had any claim upon him but the river. He belonged to the river. And it was there he would stay. Dovepaw--Iron--felt the unyielding power of his second name in his voice when he spoke the two final words. "I promise."

Perchstar nodded, satisfied with his answer. “Then I give you your warrior name. Dovepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Dovetail. StarClan honors your surety and steadfastness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan.” She leapt down from the Willow Branch and rested her muzzle lightly on top of his head.

Dovetail. A simple, effective name. Strong and solid. Not as delicate as Egretswoop, nor as powerful as Starlingflare, nor as graceful as Murkyriver. Something... completely his own. He could hear his heartbeat echoing throughout his own ears as Perchstar descended, completing the ceremony with the traditional gesture. He fulfilled his own end by licking her shoulder lightly. She had named him. She had found him in the forest, and gifted him this life. He would not take it for granted. As she backed away, he offered her a nod of thanks, just as she dipped her head in turn. The acknowledgement of leader to warrior. He was a warrior of RiverClan. I did it.

Dovetail turned around, back straight, pale-blue eyes searching for one face in particular. It wasn't Swandive, though he knew he would want her congratulations, nor was it Pidge or Owlcall or the rest of his family. No, his gaze wandered until it caught upon the shadows. A dark, mottled pelt that blended in easily--or would have if he hadn't known exactly where to find it. Murkyriver had always been near him, recently. He'd noticed now that his brain had returned from its wallowing in the depths of despair. It hadn't gone unseen how she'd looked out for him, sheltered him even, during one of the worst periods of his life. And so it was to her that he now turned and offered a small, genuine smile.

She allowed herself the safety of her shadows as the ceremony continued forth. Their cooling breeze comforted her as the anticipation swirled in her belly not unlike the murky rivers of her mind. It was a sensation she had not felt since her brother's warrior ceremony, when she had been in particular anticipation of the name that her mother would bestow upon Thrushnose. After all, she had not been directly privy to the fact that her brother had been allowed to select his name, contrary to the orthodox practices. In this instance, it would be pure surprise as well, and her gaze had found itself on full focus of Perchstar. He deserved a strong name.

Dovetail.

It rolled off her mind's tongue with smooth decree. Carried with it the promise of flight in homage to his late mentor, but the essential pieces that came from the tail of any cat. By no means was the designation of -tail to say he was to be left to the back by any semblance; it was to give due dedication to the balance he upheld in the lives of many of his clanmates. He was the one to uphold the peace between siblings as the eldest, and he had been the one to bring her into the true fold of Riverclan's ways. She felt approval of the name, relief eddying away the prickles that had threatened to push her to step away from such a pivotal moment.

Her paws did not move, however, as cheers sounded. Traditions forbade her from moving forward to congratulate him before family; but whether those were the traditions of the waters or that of the bracken, her mind could not truly designate it. Perhaps it was her own embarrassment to thrust herself into his moment, as well, that had rooted her paws to the solid earth. No matter the traditions, she kept her gaze upon the newly-named warrior, repeating his name over-and-over in her mind. Dovetail. Dovetail. Dovetail. Cheering him silently, with the enthusiasm he deserved. But then... ice clashed against flame as their gazes met, and she found herself softened further.

A rare smile spread across her maw, the embers of her eyes dancing as her head dipped lowly in respectful congratulations. The words still found themselves unable to thrust forth from her tongue; but she knew that the tom would understand her gesture. There would be time where she could truly celebrate his achievements in due time, but as the crowd stood before them, he was to celebrate with his kin. As such, her eyes blinked towards the undoubting mass of siblings that would be hurling his way, warning him for the barrage of celebration he was about to receive.

"Dovetail! Dovetail!" Swandive was on Pigeonpaw's heels, bounding forward to congratulate her brother. Pigeonpaw had managed to knock him and herself over in her excitement, and Swandive couldn't help but laugh, the smile still upon her face, "Pidge!" The pale she-cat shook her head in mock disapproval. "Congratulations, Dovetail!" She added, a purr rumbling in her chest. "Sis is right - you earned it."

Even halfway through the gesture, Dovetail had begun to doubt himself. What if Murkyriver thought it was weird that he smiled at her? What if it made her uncomfortable? But to his relief, he saw her facial features soften--and then, something he didn't think he'd ever seen before. A smile, real and genuine and beautiful, directed solely at him. The eyes that looked so often like half-extinguished embers began to glow. The sight stunned him. He was so floored by the sensation, in fact, that he didn't even notice her subtle attempt to warn him of the incoming flood of congratulations. But it was too late anyhow. Their tightly locked gaze was suddenly broken by Pigeonpaw's intrusion. "Ooof!" In a moment, the newly-named warrior found himself tackled to the ground, in a motion that harkened back to his kithood days. His fish-brained sister, of course. But he couldn't stop the laugh that rose up from his throat. "Hey, I know you're jealous, but attempted murder in front of the leader is a bit too much, don't you think?"

With his superior strength, he managed eventually to wrestle her off and give her a carefully-aimed swipe to the nose in return. The grin on his face felt ridiculous after his moons of unhappy brooding, but he relished the feeling somehow. "Nah, Swan earned her first place. I'm fine as long as my ceremony came before yours, Pidge. You're lagging! Better hurry up if you want to join us special kids." His voice was teasing, obviously not in earnest. Only moments later, his other sister arrived, a similar but less goofy sensation of pride on her face as well. It filled him with warmth. They were all here... they'd all made it back safely. His fears, his worries, his knowledge--they could all wait. Right now, he would celebrate being alive. "You too, Swandive," he purred back. "I honestly kinda thought it would never happen. We've really grown, haven't we?"