private THESE ARE MY FRIENDS [mc meeting]

It had been with hesitation that Moonbeam had left the safety of the camp to go to the Highstones, to share tongues with StarClan pressed against the Moonstone as she had gotten used to over the last two seasons. She'd spent what felt like forever trapped inside a twoleg monster and though she had tried her best to get over it, to get the smell out of her fur it felt as though she couldn't do so - not fully at least - but still she had walked the path walked by many more than herself to get to the spot where they met once a moon.

Normally she wasn't the first to be here, but in her anxiousness of potential capture once more despite the fact the twolegs had been ran off the territory she had moved through RiverClan and across the bridge quicker than she normally did. A wave of relief washed over her as soon as she moved through the dark and sat in her usual spot, eyes watching the entrance to wait to see who was next to come in and offered them a quick hello when they did.

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  • 76563872_jZr368yA5Er3eOs.png
    ꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
    ꕥꕥ KITTING
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
  • 76807578_J7HAFb99CicY51c.png
    SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
    speaks softly & often found humming
    12 moons old; ages the 17th every month
    homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
    currently mentoring none
    easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
    peaceful powerplay allowed
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── He is not typically so uncomfortable when visiting the Moonstone to meet with his fellow medicine cats, but much weighs on his heart this meeting. There is the dream with Larkfeather, yes, but the disastrous fire WindClan survived (though not unscathed) has dogged his pawsteps every moment since. He had a responsibility, one he failed to fulfill, and perhaps his son would still be alive if he had not.

Was this how Starlingfeather felt? At least, he supposes, her child had not died— though a clanmate was hardly better. I cannot pretend I would not have traded one of my own for Bearflight to be with me still. Why did the likes of Snakehiss survive when my son did not?

He gives himself a shake, returning Moonbeam's greeting as he passes by to take his place, Cottonpaw not far from him. Soon, it will be time for her tutelage to come to an end, more or less, but that will not be today. "I have a proposal," he begins gravely, preferring not to waste time with pleasantries. "Not long ago, at Starlingheart's request, we pledged ourselves to remain childless that our judgment might remain fair. I have made a mistake that no medicine cat should repeat— must swear not to repeat." He meets the many gazes with his own, solemn and heavy. "I dreamed of fire swallowing WindClan and a burning dog at its front. Omens I dismissed as a bad dream, and my m– my leader and my son suffered the greatest price." Though he does not close his eye, he sees Sunstar's beseiged body in the glow of the Moonstone. Swallowing, he continues, "Whatever we dream, we will share it with our leader so that we might better serve our clans, that we might keep them safe. There can be no dreams kept secret from our leaders, no details omitted. It is our place to understand our visions, but it is not our place to keep them from our pathfinders, and I hope you all agree." Honesty does not always come easily, but he would hope that there is a measure of trust between each of them and their leader. It would be different if Sootstar remained, but he doubts the other medicine cats have such tenuous relationships with their star-bearers.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
    ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
    ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
    ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
    ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

Every moon it is the same song and dance. She makes her way to fourtrees, lonely until Gentlestorm arrives and they walk together to the moonstone. She is grateful for the blizzard-speckled tom's presence. Making the journey to the moonstone alone had been a daunting task when she had been younger, and it was no easier now, especially when she no longer had a familiar midnight furred form trotting along at her side. She misses him every day but as more and more time stretches on the dull ache in her heart lessens. It'll never truly go away, this she knows, but in time the wound would heal over until it was nothing more than a dull ache only when her mind thought drifted for too long and too far.

When they make it into the cave, she is unsurprised to find that she is not the first. Typically, it was WindClan who got here the quickest, they were the closes after all. She dips her head in a polite greeting, trying her hand at a half-hearted smile before she takes her seat in the usual place among the others. (The empty space at her side will never not feel empty)

Wolfsong's quick words make her whiskers twitch in surprise. A proposal. The words draw a curiousity from her but she does not interrupt but instead listens patiently, drawing her tail over her paws as she waits to hear WindClan's healer out. What he says shocks her to no end. Was Sunstar not his mate? She could not imagine keeping something so important from one coveted so highly. Before Granitepelt had revealed his true pelt to her she would have shared anything with him. Now though... "I agree. We are medicine cats, our-our dreams should not be taken lightly" she says, stopping her line of thinking before it can go any further. "I'm sorry for your loss, Wolfsong" she adds quietly, her sole eye shining with an understanding grief.

  • PSgWDJV.jpeg

  • 80989743_Y4EI15MsrzJWZG0.png
    A skinny she cat with short black and white fur littered with scars and one singular green eye.
    Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
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‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. — He's fully trained now which he thanks Starclan silently for since he wouldn't wish to walk home from the meeting once more with Dawnglare, the chocolate tom had fulfilled his task and that's that. He would continue his walks to Highstones with Starlingheart without the piercing icy gaze of Dawnglare burning holes in the back of his skull. His heart stings as does it ache when the two of them meet up and the absence of Magpiepaw hurts but he must remind himself that he rests now, that'll he will be safe. Even with this knowledge it doesn't stop the sadness from entering his dark honeyed gaze remembering the journey in the mountains and how they seemed to help one another after the passing of Little Wolf. He shoves these memories that haunt him aside when they slip into the familiar gaping maw of the cave that protected the Moonstone, Gentlestorm dips his head in silent greeting to all of those gathered before sitting in his spot.

Wolfsong speaks up mentioning the code that had been purposed by Starlingheart before the pale tom had returned from the mountains of how they must remain childless to put their duty first. Both of his ears angle forward to lend all of his attention to the golden tom as he presents a new code that they must share their dreams with their leaders from now on, Gentlestorm tries to keep the surprise out of his gaze. Unlike the bicolored molly from Shadowclan, he lacked a mate and would go to speak with Howlingstar about his recent dreams with Starclanners especially with no Little Wolf at his side or even his best friends that now rest amongst Starclan. Although, he thinks if his raven pelted mate remained here on earth today then he's certain that she would've nudged him in the direction of her mother.

"I agree with this code," The mountainous tom utters only to offer a dip of his helm adding on with a small frown, "I'm sorry for your loss." To lose a kit that you raised since birth only to be licked and burned by fire, it's a terrifying thought and a pain that must be searing the Windclan medicine cat as he stands before them now.


    ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ FLESH WOUNDS
    ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀ INFECTIONS
    ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀ ACHES & PAINS
    ✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀❀ ILLNESS
    ✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀❀ BREATHING ISSUES
    ✿❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀ TRAVELING HERBS
    ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀ BROKEN BONES
    ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ KITTING
    ❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀ POISONS
  • 53DAF6v.png
    a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
    gentlestorm is a very warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he's very social and willing to lend anyone a paw if they need it. he's very patient, caring, and it's usually rare to earn his ire.
    56 moons old; ages the 27th every month
    demiromantic bisexual ; widowed mate of little wolf
    easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset ; peaceful powerplay allowed
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
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Though he walks beside Fireflypaw again, things are not the same.

He is grown, and though he has been for some time now, it took Dawnglare turning to camp and not being met with utter chaos to see it, then. What a bittersweet thing. He is a wonderful teacher, is what that means, even able to shape the simplest of minds. Neither Fireflypaw's foolishness, nor blindness, has led him down an incurable path. The wonders of Medicine— and without the herbs themselves, he is more than deserving of his title. ( It should be his and his alone, truly, that's what he... tells him self. He is above and beyond! Sweetly, he reminds) He ought to wear a smile, but he does not. Instead, a velvet face is wrought with malignance and indecision. Anything but pretty, is what he is now. And what would he be by tonight's end?

He chooses to be blind to "Moonbeam," and so long as she does not speak, it is easy. He thinks he ought to be blind to Wolfsong as well, but he does not make the task as simple. Dawnglare has more important things to worry about. Vastly more important things... But he goes on and on... Eventually, This One has no choice but to listen. His gaze — formerly staring vacantly in Gentlestorm's direction — snaps to WindClan, twinge of annoyance unhidden.

Well, that isn't his problem, now is it? Should a Medicine Cat not be able to tell the meaningless from the Meaningful? It's a folly on StarClan's fault, perhaps, to expect so much from him. To ever expect so much from WindClan. From anyone here. Chipper, they agree, because they too are senseless enough to make this mistake. Not him, however. Not his like. ( ...Wasn't that right? )

But... The stars have been quiet to him.

( If it was important, they had no reason to limit themselves to only this stone, correct? It's pettiness. Ignorance, a grudge held past the cold ground He lays in. ) So... So be it! It didn't matter! It didn't matter very much at all. ( Or was it that, the stars too had a preference...? )

He witnesses his apprentice, blind to the world, but surely, all seeing in the plane of dreams. It couldn't be — wouldn't be — ( Who is he to deny the thoughts of Gods? Well, he should be anything, everything, the only one who could, and yet... )

His spine snaps straight, some god - given fear snapping him to action. " Whatever allows you all to sleep easiest, " he grouses. In a fashion one could mistake for fear — but it wasn't, it couldn't ever be — he glimpses the moonstone. Blinding, bright. It had nearly brought him to the ground, the first time he saw it, and now it does the same thing once again. " I have something to say as well, " Bile thick in his throat, he croaks.
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Fireflypaw walks in alongside Dawnglare with a clumsy spring to his step. There is something so holy about this place where he stood now, cloudy eyes staring off into the distance as talk began so suddenly. He can faintly smell Moonbeam not too far, nodding in her direction- hoping so, at least. Their trade wouldn't be forgotten, for her kindness to him and his clan was a saving grace. As Wolfsong begins with a new law for them to follow, Dawnglare, Starlingheart, and Gentlestorm all agree to it- the former of the three begrudgingly so. Fireflypaw thought that this new law was common sense, however- shouldn't you always report your dreams, as strange as they are, to your leader? He cannot imagine not going to Orangestar with a dream, his prophecies always having come true eventually. He squints then, eyes clouded with a hint of confusion.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Wolfsong. Truly." He speaks his own peace to the WindClan medicine cat, dipping his head to the tom. It was easier to pretend he didn't understand the struggle of losing family to a tragedy, but it was a wound that festered in times like these. His attention turns to Dawnglare, then, as he speaks of something he needs to tell.

He wonders.. What it could be? Has he had a prophecy that he wishes to share with the others?​
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‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. Things feel... solemn this moon as more and more cats filter in. Eyes glance to each one, returning their greetings - or lack thereof in Dawnglare's case - with small nods or soft mews before eyes would glance in Wolfsong's direction as he began to speak. A proposal of a new code, of sharing omens and signs with the leaders of each of the cat's respective clans to avoid what no cat should go through as Wolfsong had. Silently head would nod as the others spoke their agreement, the RiverClanner thinking of her own opinion on it before she'd speak at last. "I agree." Plain, simple, truth. "And I'm sorry for your loss." She couldn't relate, not having her own kits to dote on or see potentially die before her but she knew that the loss was heavy, heavier than that of the normal clanmate and she was silently thankful for the fact she would not have her own chance for kits, for this to happen to herself, but still she was sorry for his loss, truly sorry.

It seemed as though it was agreed upon by all, whether it be fully willing or not, and for a moment she thought that would be all until Dawnglare spoke once more. His own announcement, his own code perhaps to add to the one that Wolfsong had suggested only moment's prior? She'd not acknowledge him with words, instead would simply look his way to wait for whatever it was the strange SkyClanner had to say.


  • --
  • flesh wounds
    ꕥꕥ infections
    aches & pains
    ꕥꕥꕥ illness
    ꕥꕥꕥ breathing
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ traveling
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ broken bones
    ꕥꕥꕥꕥ poisons
  • SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
    13 moons old; ages the 17th every month
    homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
    currently mentoring none
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
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With the heretic's word, so it is sealed. The "it" in question, being yet another call to agreement over personal error... but they all must worry because they know they are all equally the fool. Dawnglare wouldn't dare be caught up in such nonsense. He should hope the same for his apprentice. He does hope the same - Wills the same. Under his care, Fireflypaw has not been caught by sickness again, and perhaps it is that blessing that led to his own immortality being shredded. It isn't fair, really. In what he bids next, he asks StarClan that it is returned to him. This is wha twould... entrance them so, after all.

" Alright, alright, " he muses, and abruptly, he is at his paws. No more apologies - if anything they should apologize to him. For making him endure their stupidity across generations. For WindClan, the fourth, For ShadowClan, there would soon be four, for ThunderClan... four. RiverClan, hm... Three? And SkyClan...

His nose finds it's way to Fireflypaw. There the oaf is, sitting atop paws that have healed plagues. Paws that have overseen a clan on their own without difficulty. Who... may have, nor may not have seen things that he hasn't. What he may call blasphemous, the fools would likely rejoice in. The heart of the mountain thrums wilder. In a gross misuse of Mother's gift to mankind, StarClan seizes the Moonstone to peer through its looking glass. He can imagine Blaise's face, smeared in such an ugly way against its surface, like it did against the walls of their youth. They had been see - through, malleable only by twoleg paws. Perhaps they should have kept them shut, after all.

Did he yearn for a hair of him, even once? A whisker? Perhaps not, him and his son both, and perhaps someone would be glad for it.

He would give them what they wanted. He would give and give and give. Just like he always has - this life he's been damned to. " Fix yourself, Fireflypaw, " That is the warning he tosses his way, with eyes narrowed like crystal daggers and a thick tail thumping against the ground. This spectacle would be for them all; one eagerly awaited by most, dreaded upon by few. He takes a breath. " You have been with me for quite some time. " Long enough for them both to outlive his father, long enough that the so - called Medicine Cats Dawnglare had grown aside are no longer.

" Quite some time, " shakily, he repeats, and Mother goads him forward still. " And though you may only have so many seasons of wisdom... " A keen reminder, one that he hopes is knocking within the thick walls of his skull. You do not have what I have. " You... You have proven yourself able to oversee SkyClan on your own, if need be. " And what did that mean, really? it was the same for Moonbeam, for Gentlestorm, and they were still proven fools.

He whirls to face the moonstone. It is every bit as beautiful as it had been the first day he saw it, and yet his heart does not leap in the same way. His tremor is something besides wonderment. There are about a dozen pair of eyes within each crack and crater. Impatiently, they cry out. It's something that Mother would never dare exude, without their influence. Fireflies, disgusting little things, but things that could seem to swell with starlight, if you chose to believe so. Let them fill the cracks then, of StarClan's... negligence.

He faces them with defiance, with fear, with bewilderment. He would not crumble in the way his legs desperately urged him to. Final hurrah, and final word. He steps closer. Closer still, until he is but a whisker away, and his breath hitches at the thought of seeing his dear friend again.

He does not face Fireflypaw just yet, for when he did, he would like a Medicine Cat of SkyClan to face him. Not the youngling he had took under his care, nor the scared, younger him that whined with fresh scars across his eyes. Before him should be someone else entirely. Before him should be someone... worthy. (Even if he desperately wished that he wasn't).

" I, Dawnglare of SkyClan, come before StarClan to look down on this apprentice. My apprentice, " he specifies with a hiss, setting him apart from Ravensong and Gentlestorm both, as he should be. " He has trained hard to understand the ways of a Medicine Cat, and with your help, he will serve his Clan for many moons. " Narrowed eyes watch the moonstone, to see if the stars would pick and preen at their mention. Did it make them happy, to be needed? Did it make Him happy?

He turns, and there is Fireflypaw. There has always been Fireflypaw. " Fireflypaw, " he calls to him, and if he had any sense, he would step forward. If he had none - the meeting would be drawn to a swift close, instead. " Do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to– to care for your Clanmates, forgoing any personal grievance? " If only they would tell him no.
Cottonpaw walks alongside her mournful mentor in silence. It feels as if every trot to the Moonstone is gifted with some form of sorrow - last half moon, Magpiepaw had been reported lost, stolen by twolegs. This one... well, she half expects for another medicine cat to turn up marred, broken or bruised. So many medicine cats seemed to have been injured or harmed at some point in their lives, forced to live with the remnants of an attack forevermore. Maybe scars are what make them empathetic to the sick and injured... and maybe the lack of makes them jaded, like Dawnglare.

The grey apprentice does not think of the of course's or the isn't that obvious? with Wolfsong's proposed new law. He was a partner trying to protect his own from an inferno that existed, once, only in his dreams; and by doing so, he tempted fate, and she won with tears in her eyes. Wolfsong is her mentor, her guidance from when she was still young and stupid (as if she's grown much since her start,) so his failures feel heavy on her shoulders, too. Not like Starlingheart's, though she imagines her former apprentice shouldered the grief similarly. She leans slightly against Wolfsong, a measure of comfort and trust between them, before the meeting carries on.

Dawnglare summons his apprentice's attention. The she-cat blinks, and though she's seen this ceremony a pawful of times before, she watches enraptured nonetheless. Even as the mostly-white tom hisses out his words, as if each one burns his tongue as it goes, she waits eagerly to accept Fireflypaw as an equal to her mentor, and not to herself. (It's always felt odd, after all; he's a good bit older than she is, is he not? It's about time he's been honored.)​
The wind whispered promises in his ears, promises of reckoning and sorrow, of love and friendship. His name is called, and it tastes like salt upon the high priest's tongue. Nonetheless, Fireflypaw takes a step forward, his body moving like the wind itself. He self-consciously licks down a stray piece of fur on his chest, ghostly blues staring upwards at his mentor as he speaks.

It has been a long time since he'd stepped under the all-knowing wing that belonged to Dawnglare.

Such holy words spill from priestly lips, dripping with a sense of honor that he had learned to have himself over the many moons in his clan's service. He blinks, ceremoniously repeating the words he'd been waiting to say. "I do." He promises, feeling the familiar tingle in his eyes as they itch- itch to see, itch to wander. He faces the moonstone, and though he cannot see it, he can feel its power. It pulsates like a heartbeat, and Fireflypaw finds himself all-too enamored with it once more.

Soon, soon he will become Dawnglare's other paw. No longer his acolyte, but deemed similar to his equal. Soon, he would see his father and sister and mother and uncle- they would send their blessings to him. His bottom lip wobbles as his ears tremble. Are you proud of me, Morningpaw? Have I done well, in this lifetime? His brain whispers desperately, though his attention is swung back to the high priest to listen once more. In continuance. The ceremony was not done.​
It is simple. It is right. Two words so well - practiced in this forest that it would be difficult for even the sorriest of cats to ruin. Still, part of him had hoped. For... no. For wait. For something so unforgivable, Dawnglare would have no chose but to delay this for another moon, perhaps two. Three, four... He had all of the time in the world.

With the close of his apprenticeship, so closes the opportunity for mistakes. Dawnglare did not raise him to be like the rest of them - wreathed in fake titles. Medicine Cats in name only, but as easily replaceable as carrion in the pile. There was a spot for Fireflypaw, nestled keenly between the others and himself. The time it took to get there would make it that much sweeter, wouldn't it? He would be the first authentic - the first without the pressure of a suffering clan, behind them. No others here had such a privilege.

It is a pleasure, he tells himself. A crooked smile works its way onto his face at the last moment that it possibly could. The light of the moonstone cradles his fangs. If StarClan looks closely - there is a glint of gums. His face aches with how intently pale cheeks make for the corner of his eyes. Star - beasts press their faces to the crystal ball. He feels the tug of the earth and the howls of the wraiths. Dawnglare does not hear them. Dawnglare does not hear him, sun - studded face and harlequin smiles. He adheres to no ruling but his own. No longer must he step back and allow the stars to take the reigns when it comes to divine namesake. The bells ring by his own accord.

His turn is grandiose, velvet - and - white moon - bleached and gleaming. Is this how they embraced him? Or did they mock him still? Her heart beats wildly. Though ghostly blues look on, unseeing, Fireflypaw should feel the dozens of eyes on him. It is the beginning of his apprentice's life proper ( and perhaps, the ending of his own. )

" Then, by the powers of StarClan " His tail flicks. Listen closely, old fool. " By the powers invested in myself, I give you your true name as a medicine cat. " Rustily purred, he implies what he'd like to. If the world was how it ought to be, it'd only be him and Fireflypaw in this room.

And yet, the forest thrived on nonsense.

" From this moment on, you will be known as Fireflyglow. " Murmured approval from both above and below. The tremors would stretch from here to SkyClan. " StarClan honors you for your loyalty and patience, " The sort of things he is certain they and SkyClan both would be proud of - sticking with claws that continue to reopen your wounds. Never faltering, never growing tired... How dare Dawnglare be anything else? A final breath, then. A step forward, and a whisk of the tail against the Moonstone's surface. For one fleeting, terrifying moment, he wonders if he would be transported to the land of the dead.

But he remains here in the present, grinning... serene, down at the one who would be chosen over him, in the end.

He can't quite hold it in, a giggle, feather - light as he pins Fireflyglow to the stone he stands on with nothing but a gaze. He leans forward, wobbling mouth curled wide. " ...And we welcome you as a full Medicine Cat of SkyClan. "

His chin comes to rest atop his former apprentice's head; and all at once, it is over.

When Dawnglare seclares that he too has something he would like to announce at this meeting, her head swings in his direction so that she may afix her lonely eye upon red-tinted fur, tattered ear flicking and tail pulled tightly against her body as she shuffles her feet. If Magpiepaw were still here, he would have followed not long after Fireflypaw. ShadowClan and SkyClan would stand unified in the fact that they had not one but two fully trained medicine cats at their disposal, a resource more valuable than all the prey in the forest because it meant if tragedy befell one there was at least another who paws could still fully heal. It is morbid, she realizes, that she thinks like this. But as her eye sweeps across those gathered how could she not? Of all the medicine cat's gathered, only Dawnglare could claim that he had been in his position for as long as the clans had been established for. He alone did not have a predecessor. It does not escape her though, the irony that she is the next senior behind him, despite being younger than the others.

She is respectfully silent as the ceremony progresses, green shining solemnly in the dim light cast by the moon filtering in through the cracks above their heads, giving this holy space just enough luminesence to see by. If any were to meet her gaze though, she would offer them a small smile, a quick upturn of the lips before it fades away in favor of polite reverence for the ceremony playing out before them "Fireflyglow!" she calls out once it's over, raising her voice in the same fashion one would at a ceremony for a warrior. It was a monumentous day after all, the soot masked tom should be celebrated. "Congratulations, I wish- I wish you many seasons of service to your clan" she says. Stars knew the clans could use some good luck like that when it came to their healers.

  • PSgWDJV.jpeg

  • 80989743_Y4EI15MsrzJWZG0.png
    A skinny she cat with short black and white fur littered with scars and one singular green eye.
    Easy in battle + has little to no formal battle training
It is holy, the feeling of being blessed with a name that suits his age and knowledge. Milky chin rests upon his head, and Fireflypaw- no, Fireflyglow is blessed by the high priest once again with a purpose. To serve his Clan loyally, faithfully, until his final breath. His maw parts into a gentle smile, appreciation glowing in ghostly pale blues. He is ever so present in that moment, tail gliding across the chilly ground as wide eyes stare at Dawnglare.

"Thank you." It leaves his mouth, dipping his head to the tom in reverent respect for the older. "I hope to continue learning more alongside you." He is no longer Dawnglare's shadow, no longer following him with kitten paws and seeing eyes. He then turns to the rest of the medicine cats, dipping his head to each in turn in a turn of respect for them. They all have seen seasons, moons of chaos alongside himself. They, he realizes, are in need of appreciation as well.

"Do I.. Dream, now?" He asks sheepishly, a playful grin on his face as he turns to the moonstone. ​