TAGS — The molly approaches on weary paws at her leader's call, taking a seat next to Strawpaw and offering them a smile. Though paranoia still maintains an icy grip on her, fears of a SkyClan invasion following her daily, she mainly expects good news from this meeting. She has to admit things have been feeling more comfortable lately — on an internal level, anyway. Which is definitely better than nothing. She doesn't miss the insecure feeling of harboring such a dangerous viper within their borders, nor that of having to wonder which of her clanmates she can trust. With Dandelionwish gone and the rest of the traitors killed or chased out and left to succumb to their wounds, a sense of unity has been able to blossom. She's formed a good connection with Sootstar, the clan has a fresh and healthy litter of royal blood, the sickness has been quashed. Things are looking up, finally.
But it all feels so fragile, especially with her persistent anxieties. How long can it last when an ambush is doubtlessly inevitable? She scolds herself for having such little faith in her clan every time these thoughts cross her mind; SkyClan is a bunch of kittypets, after all. But those kittypets had killed Sunsetbreeze without help and nearly overwhelmed the stealth patrol with it. What if they bring more help this time? What use could Icepaw possibly be in terms of defense, if she'd been unable to do anything useful that fateful night when Dandelionwish fled? All the rest of her clanmates had sprung so valiantly into battle, and all she'd been able to do was stand around panicking for far too long. The same had almost happened during the herb raid, too, and her miraculous burst of courage
that night has been feeling more and more like a fluke the longer she reflects on her more recent cowardly ineptitude. Clearly she still has Sootstar's respect for her victory, but Icepaw has to wonder how many more blunders she can afford before her leader realizes how incompetent she really is. They keep meaning to ask Nightmareface if their training can start focusing more heavily on combat, but nerves stop them every time.
She does her best to focus on Sootstar's words of encouragement to quell her fearful thoughts. They have to take her word for it, or at least try. WindClan is doing much better; they're strong, they can overcome anything. The prophecy has promised peace, and StarClan would never lead them astray. Newleaf is so close, and there's no way SkyClan has the strength right now, during such a hard season, for a raid. Right? She has to believe it. She has to. For the sake of her own mental heath. She'll certainly try.
Their ears prick up when Nightmareface —
their mentor — is assigned to the newly named Marmotpaw. Huh? Why is she doubling up? There's certainly tunnelers without apprentices, but maybe Sootstar deemed them unsuitable for some reason? Or unfit matches for Marmotpaw specifically? Oh well, not that she minds. Hopefully this doesn't take too much time away from her own training, though.
"Sunflowerpaw, Marmotpaw!" she chants with the rest of her clanmates. Pale blue eyes search for her new co-apprentice amid the throng of cats once she parts with her mentor, trying to make eye contact to offer an encouraging smile; helping to show her the ropes will probably be nice, and maybe Nightmareface will let them give her some pointers to show how much they've learned. It could be good practice for when they're eventually assigned an apprentice of their own, too. The thought sends prickles of anxiety down her spine, though; being a mentor feels like so much pressure.
Her search for Marmotpaw is abruptly cut off by the call of her own name — alongside Firepaw, Smokepaw, and Strawpaw. Shock and confusion leave her short pelt bristling despite herself as her wide-eyed gaze snaps back to Sootstar, and then to Strawpaw beside her for a brief moment before returning to their leader. Firepaw's warrior ceremony is scheduled for today (it's impossible not to know with how braggy the dark-furred molly is), but she and her fellow tunnelers are still quite a ways off. So there's- there's no way...? But why else would she be called? Why else would Nightmareface have been assigned another apprentice? Her heart sinks.
Icepaw is never one to question an order, so she makes her way over in silence, trying vainly not to look as startled as she feels. The speech that Sootstar launches into is all too familiar from the amount of times she's witnessed this ceremony throughout her youth, wondering how she'd feel and who she'd be when her turn eventually came. They'd always expected to feel nervous, but never
scared. Dread heats her cheeks and weakens her limbs, and her heart pounds viciously against her chest. As badly as she wants to glance at her friends to gauge their own reactions, her owlish eyes remain glued to Sootstar, who inexplicably has so much faith in her.
You deserve it, she gently tells herself. She's a hero of the SkyClan raid! And doubtlessly one of Sootstar's favorite apprentices, dare she say it! Her younger, somehow even more anxious self would be awestruck at what she's accomplished. But it feels like she's stumbled her way into this position, scraped by on fluke after fluke. She's never even fought for real! What use is she to the clan, really, other than her ability to sneak through the snow (merely a seasonal benefit) and her affinity for chores? Not to mention she still has a couple more moons
minimum of training to complete, and good StarClan does Icepaw feel like she needs it! What if she falls flat as a warrior without this crucial time, and all of the expectations that've been built up for her come violently crashing down? What if Sootstar realizes how incompetent she is and deems her a failure? Unworthy of being a WindClanner at all?
"I do," she says a beat after the others, feeling dazed.
Her name comes first.
Icebreath. This is all so dreamlike, surreal. Nothing feels quite real. She's too out of it, too clammed up, to appraise her new suffix. Sootstar's touch is grounding, sending electricity crackling down her spine. It's not a good shock, like she'd felt with Firepaw. It's almost painful. What should be a comforting, uplifting,
exciting moment of connection and pride is marred by an overpowering sense of anxiety. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, or so it goes. They smile weakly at Sootstar and then finally look at the others as they're given their own names. Firefang, Smokestep, Strawmoon. It's hard to tell whether the latter two are equally as shocked and nervous as she is from where she stands, only able to view their profiles and unwilling to crane her neck to try to hard even for that. She inhales a slow, deep breath, and it's terribly shaky upon release.
