Nightkit's Apprentice Ceremony

 Nightkit watched with wide eyes from the nursery entrance as Sablestrike perched atop the Jaggedrock. Is this really it? He thought, his little heart thrumming like a hummingbird in his chest. He felt almost lightheaded. Can I really do this? Nightkit had avoided most of his Clanmates since he was old enough to speak - they were much too scary, much too frightening. All big and loud and without a care in the world. And now he had to get up in front of all of them - and speak, too - if he wanted to be an apprentice.

And that was thing. Did he want to be an apprentice? Was he ready for that? Anxiety flashed through him, a burning white heat, and he shook out his fur. Could he manage that? A new nest, a new den, new denmates. Hunting and - he shivered - fighting, and training from sunrise to sunset. But oh, how much he could learn. The promise of new knowledge beckoned him to his paws. Come on, Nightkit. The worst they can do is laugh. The small kit took a deep breath, pepping himself up the best he could, and finally padded from the nursery. He watched the deputy with wide, fearful amber eyes, trying to keep his fur flat. Every part of him wanted to run away, but he forced himself to join the ranks of the warriors and apprentices as though everything was normal. Dread weighed him down as he walked. Stumbling a bit, he finally sat down somewhere just off to the side and watched. Hedgepaw's words echoed through him. It's not so scary, he tried to convince himself. She did it, after all. Was that him trembling?

 Nightkit - no, it was Nightpaw now, wasn't it, that would take some getting used to - found himself stepping forward, shaking with every pawstep. He could feel the eyes of his Clanmates on him, burning his pelt, and every instinct in him told him to flee. After what felt like an eternity, he met Silverhawk at the front of the group, hesitating before pressing his nose back to the dark tom's. He hadn't seen Silverhawk around camp much before - though, truth be told, he didn't like to venture out of the nursery much. But the warrior was scarier than Nightpaw could've imagined. I hope he's nice, Nightpaw prayed, but something glinted in the tom's gaze that seemed almost taunting. Maybe he was just imagining it. Really... most of the older cats in camp were looking at him with something not unlike judgement, and Nightpaw wondered if he'd done something wrong. I can't have. I haven't said anything. StarClan, I must be worthless if my own Clan doesn't even like me.

So Nightpaw said nothing in return to his new mentor, merely nodding. Even if he had something to say, the words would've died in his throat. We're going out, the tom said to him. Already? Nightpaw's ears twitched. Everything was happening so fast. He took another deep breath, trying to calm his shaking paws. Say something. "O-okay." He stammered, eyes wide with fear. "Sorry." His tail hung low, flicking from side to side with every quickened beat of his heart as he looked at his paws.

He turned as Hedgepaw appeared by his side. A wave of gratitude washed over him - he was incredibly relieved to see a friendly face. A face he actually knew. Maybe they'd only spoken once before, but Hedgepaw was safe in his mind. Nightpaw nodded, trying to force his maw into some semblance of a smile. He believed her. If she says there's nothing to worry about, there must not be. Maybe I shouldn't be so scared of Silverhawk. He wanted to go running back to the nursery, to go press himself against his mother's side and never leave, but he knew what she'd say. He could already see her disapproving glare. So Nightpaw stayed rooted where he was, looking up at Hedgepaw, trying to smooth his pelt. "T-thanks, Hedgepaw." He meowed, blinking slowly. "I'm excited to train with you." He added sincerely, smiling nervously.