Nightpaw's Medicine Cat Apprentice Ceremony

His paws were trembling. He couldn't help but remember the last time he'd made this journey - he'd been alongside Heatherberry then, too. It hadn't even been that long ago, and yet his life was already changing. Whatever the medicine cat had seen during his warrior ceremony had set him on this path, and who was he to say no? If it was StarClan's will - if it'd been everything he'd been hoping for all these moons - why refuse it? If everything went wrong, it still would not be worse than dooming himself to a life of inferiority.

The Moonstone shone, proud and bright in the center of the cavern, and he found himself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was just as beautiful as the last time he'd seen it. Nightpaw glanced back at Heatherberry, as though unsure. Her one eye held something unreadable, but it was still reassuring - he'd been half expecting to find scorn and disappointment in that green gaze. No, there was actually a bit of fond amusement as she mentioned the impossibility of StarClan rejecting him. How did she know I was thinking that? It'd been keeping him up at night. Yes, a new path was exciting, but it'd be his luck that the vision was really meant to point Heatherberry toward someone else. Someone like Fernpaw or Hollowpaw - someone who make a more promising medicine cat.

I want you to be here. Her words would soften his aching heart if he'd let them. But even as the weight on his shoulders seemed to lessen, his brain swore it wasn't true. Nightpaw's ears twitched. He didn't have to listen to his doubt. Heatherberry didn't seem like a liar. "I think my doubts have been answered, yes. I never would've expected it'd all lead to this, though. What you said before, about being born with different skills? I...think I get it." I think we have more in common than I'd realize. He didn't say the last part aloud - it felt too mushy. He blinked, a moment's hesitation keeping his words at bay per usual. "Thank you, Heatherberry. I...want to be here. It'd be an honor, truly." His green gaze softened, though they glimmered with appreciation and affection. He meant every word. Even if he didn't know her too well yet...it would be an honor. And he'd very much like to know her. StarClan knows I could use a friend. Or anyone to look out for me. His parents had never seemed to care.

He closed his eyes as she closed hers, his ears pricking slightly as she recited the words that so many before him had heard. How many cats had walked this path before? Could he ever hope to make them proud? Silence fell, and his eyes slid open to meet Heatherberry's eye once more. He dipped his head, made his way to the stone, and crouched down. Hello? StarClan? He pressed his nose to the stone as he had only a half moon before, and this time the chilling sensation that spread slowly through his veins wasn't as much of a shock. A deep sleep fell over the tom, pulling him away like the warmest, gentlest of currents. He didn't feel worried anymore - not with Heatherberry looking out for him. Still, as he waited for the starry grounds to appear before him, the smallest sliver of doubt pierced at his heart like an unsheathed claw. StarClan, are you there? Am I good enough?

Nightpaw's eyes glimmered with curiosity as a familiar starry pelt came into view. Burdockroot, he remembered. Heatherberry's mentor. She seemed much less restricted than she had during his Moonstone journey, as though she could speak more openly now that the truth was out. So I was the cat Heatherberry was meant to have the vision about, after all. His doubts eased. Burdockroot's words had finally clicked into place that day, but perhaps subconsciously; now, as he looked at the star-mottled cat before him, he realized the full weight of the message.

He dipped his head in turn. "I think I do understand, now. I - Thank you." He wasn't entirely sure what he was thanking her for, but gratitude warmed him nonetheless. Sure, this might not have been the sole will of Burdockroot, but he still felt he owed her for this second chance at life - this second chance to prove himself. When she carried on, though, Nightpaw paused. Why hadn't he asked? He hadn't even thought about it, really. He didn't know changing his name was something he could even do. "Frostednight is a beautiful name, but Burdockroot suits you well. Heatherberry is much more fitting, too. I..." He trailed off. He could change his name. He could actually change his name. She was offering him the opportunity, and all he had to do was say yes. He'd be free of the stigma that the Night name carried - free of the dirty looks, the shame, the disgrace that Nightstar had brought upon it. He would no longer be marred by history he'd had no part of.

For a moment, Nightpaw was going to accept.

But he didn't want to. He liked his name, despite the weight it carried, and he liked the nighttime, and he thought it fit him well. He shouldn't have to abandon it just because of the reputation some mousebrain had left behind. It was a rare moment for Nightpaw. Courage warmed his gaze, an odd expression for him; that gaze was usually tainted by fear, after all. He was sick of other cats dictating how he should live his own life. Stop being a coward, Frightpaw. "No offense, Burdockroot, but I think I'd like to keep my name. If - if that's alright. I hate to break tradition, but..." The tuxedo tom's whiskers twitched thoughtfully as he hesitated. Was he sure? Yes, he was sure. "I think I'd like to prove that my name doesn't define me. I want to bring honor to it, if I can. It wouldn't be fair - I feel like it'd be cowardly to change it, instead of facing that part of my life head on." Nightpaw bowed his head in respect, as though to assure her it had nothing to do with her. As if to say he didn't want to make her upset. He felt much braver now that he had a real chance to prove his worth, and he was sick of running away.