camp WALK THE LINE YOU FOLLOW [☾] WARRIOR CEREMONIES

[SOOTSTAR]

It has grown cold at the top of the Tallrock. Sootstar becomes grateful for the tufts of fur sat upon her ears in this weather, without them she fears ears would fall off without them. Looking down at her clan she allows her voice to ring through the air, ”Let all cats old enough to race the moors gather beneath the Tallrock!” With uptmost urgency they swarm to her, she enjoys watching them gather beneath her feet.

”Leaf-bare will soon be upon us. For the past several sun-downs, Marigoldlight has felt the coming of our first snowfall in her bones.” She smirks, a rare tidbit of humor from the usually flat-faced she-cat. ”We will need all the warriors we can get. Six apprentices have been deemed worthy by their mentiors and I. I’m proud to present @BLUEPAW , @MOORPAW , Marmotpaw ( @Marmotbite. ) , @Thriftpaw , @RUMBLEPAW and @sparrowpaw before the clan.” She curls her tail upward to signal the group forward to the base of the rock.

Slithering down she presents herself at their paws, most of them taller than she stood. ”I, Sootstar, leader of WindClan look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to shape themselves into strong and loyal cats of their clan and I commend them as warriors in their turn.” Her gaze softens upon all fo them, ”Bluepaw, Moorpaw, Marmotpaw, Thriftpaw, Rumblepaw and Sparrowpaw, do you promise to protect and defend your clan even at the cost of your life?”

Ears perk up expectantly, listening for those two vital words.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[Marmotbite.]

♢​♢ THE BEST MISTAKE YOU EVER MADE ♢♢​

---

marmotpaw & 12 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler apprentice​

---

Her presence here today is hard earned. First, she'd fought hard, had slaughtered rogues alongside azaleafrost in the battle. Then, she'd been put through nightmareface's harrowing idea of an 'assessment' - even all the respect in the world is not enough to curb the tiny she-cats anger at what had unfolded. But it had gotten here this far, had brought her here. When she is called forwards, she stands beside moor runner and tunneler alike, easily dwarfed by most of them. But she has never let that stop her. Mismatched eyes all but burn as they turn to sootstars powerful figure, scars twinging in phantom pain as she nods - "I do," she drawls, words confident and voice proud. She's spent most of her life working towards this moment - of course she will. It was never a choice.

— it sounds so fuckin' beautiful when you say my name ♡

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a shockingly tiny she-cat with pale blue and cream ticked tabby fur, save for a single patch covering her right eye that is brown instead, and mismatched green-orange eyes. she has heavy scarring along the entirety of her left side, from her face all the way down her chest, belly, and flank; which has been there since kithood. she is a twitchy little thing, known for her bad attitude and an unfortunate habit of biting when startled.
  
  — physically medium && mentally medium
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#9ab973]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

Narrowed golden eyes take in the scene before her as Sootstar calls for a meeting. At first she assumes this is more warmongering, more vying for power, more decisions that would never be made by the Sootstar she once knew. Or at least, the Sootstar she thought she knew. But no, it is merely a new batch of apprentices being made into warriors, and for a moment Scorchstreak is allowed to relax.

She tenses up once again, however, when she hears the names of all the apprentices being called to stand before Sootstar. Rumblepaw is included, and though she knows they have earned it, concern flashes through her. Why is her kit being made a warrior so early?

It strikes her, how she’d focused on Scorchpaw and Luckypaw after they’d each volunteered to come along on the journey. How she’d not kept as close an eye on Rumblepaw, believing them to be okay. But they had fought against ThunderClan. They have been favored by Sootstar in this new age of insanity. They are being made a warrior early, before any of their siblings. She looks to Rattleheart if she can find them in the crowd, trusting her sibling to understand her own confusion. This is wrong.
​

[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

​

 

[SUNSTAR]

There is something terrible about this moment. A sense of simplicity, a breath of moments so far behind them that they should be forgotten. He had once been confused by the nature of these meetings. What good did it do, to call their warriors into camp and speak of what they all should know? These ceremonies, however, made it well worth the wasted time. He had always known himself to glow with pride at each warrior to earn their name. However little he knew of them or their work, he was glad to see another grown so well into their names. And yet...like Scorchstreak notices, this naming has become embittered. Sour-rot on each of their tongues. Though he does not hesitate, he comes to sit beside Scorchstreak with a shared tension between them both. What he hopes is a thread of understanding, pulled taut.

These were not the names of warriors. Sootstar would name them such, yet he looks upon Rumblepaw, Thriftpaw, and can only recall the way that they leaned to the moor queen's teachings. What he assumed was youthful desperation was now irrevocably rewarded. They would see only good in her attention and care. Yet there is nothing they will do about this. He sits in silence, the characteristic glow missing from his eyes. They have become steely and cold in this uncertainty.

𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓  ╱╱ 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 〚 11.22.2023 〛 —————«

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTRIDE. WINDCLAN DEPUTY & MOOR RUNNER.
  ——– HE – HIM – HIS ╱╱ 48+ MOONS OLD, ADULT.

  NPC x NPC, LONERS. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO BEARPAW, SINGEDPAW, RIVEPAW, SUNLITPAW AND FEATHERPAW. MENTORING SCORCHPAW.
  
  TH ╱╱ LARGE CHOCOLATE ROSETTE TABBY, ICY EYES.

• "speech"

​

 

[Thriftfeather]

Thriftpaw thinks he should nervous. His rabbit-heart gives an obligatory and well practiced thump-thump-thump as the meeting is called, but his white paws do not shake as he marches his way past the many eyes of his clanmates, to the very front of the crowd. He knocks his head to Bluepaw in a silent congratulations as he passes her by. The long plume of his tail twitches once as he sits, and then folds comfortably over his paws. It doesn’t move again—Thriftpaw doesn’t even need to remind himself to hold still.

He should be nervous. He circles back to the thought often, or else it is the thought that circles him. Why isn’t he more nervous? But there is something warm and golden in his gut instead. He’s proud of himself and what he’s done—accomplished. It was Sunstride who told Thriftpaw that he needed to give himself time, that his future would make itself known to him. He thinks he understands the advice now, moons later. He thinks he can feel the future now—stretching ahead of him in the same endless expanse of his home.

He smiles at Sootstar as she descends the Tallrock, the expression unpracticed and boyish.

“I do,” Thriftpaw breathes—too quiet. He tries again, loud enough to hear the glow in his words, “I do.”​

WINDCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 9 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[REDHEART]

Had it not been for his do-gooder nature the ruddy apprentice had half a mind to ignore the call of Sootstar. Instead, he wrapped up his meal and brushed it to the side, before turning to face the she-cat. A small smile adorned her ashen features and only made his stomach twist with uncertainty.

In light of recent events he felt it more and more difficult to trust Sootstar. Shaking off the indecision he dutifully trotted over and beneath his leader. Green eyes flashing with relief at the drawl of familiar names. Excitement rushed up Redpaw's back at the mention of friends names.

Now gracing his features was a surprised smile. Eagerly, he looked into the crowd as the new warriors agreed. Making this meeting a comfortable distraction for a change.​

 

[RUMBLERAIN]

𝐵𝐸𝑇𝑊𝐸𝐸𝑁 𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼𝑆 𝐿𝑂𝑆𝑇 𝐹𝑂𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅 ✧ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍

• 
  
  — rumblepaw | tags
  — they/them ; moor-runner apprentice of windclan. mentored by brindlecloud.
  — lanky black-and-white point with blue eyes. butterfly accessory.
  — "speech" ; thoughts
  — art by mercibun
  — penned by mercibun. @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots.
  
  

​

It's colder than they've ever known it. Rumblepaw swears their whiskers will freeze in this weather, harsh in the evening and bleak in the day, though the blue skies above seem to do their best to compensate for the chill.

Oversized ears prick upwards at the call to attention, Rumblepaw distracted from their conversation with Juncopaw about a recent patrol nearby the Horseplace. They rise without a word, but gesture for the younger apprentice to follow them into the crowd. Rumour was around camp was that Sootstar's daughters had passed their assessments, Bluepaw and Moorpaw set to join the ranks of the warriors.

What they don't expect, however, is their own name to be called. Immediately Rumblepaw glances at Brindlecloud, whose expression has shifted minutely into something they can't recognise. They get the feeling that he doesn't agree with this.

Rumblepaw finds they don't care.

He's weak, the friendly voices of their older Clanmates had murmured, the ones who'd taken them under their guiding paws. Inexperienced, a cat who doesn't know how to train you. He'll never think you're ready. Rumblepaw had only excelled when others had gotten involved, shaped into a WindClanner ready to race the moors. It made perfect sense. Fated, one might say.

And since when had a warrior ever declined their fate? Said No, I don't think I'm ready for this?

Rumblepaw decides they would not be the first. Not for their soon-to-be former mentor, not for themselves. Not for anyone. Sootstar's voice rings in their ears like gospel and they cling to her every word, awestruck for a long moment but Thriftpaw's meow calls them back to the present.

"I do."

They do not face their mother, their siblings, all left behind in this moment. Instead, they face Sootstar with wide-eyed reverence. Only her. For once, they've got proof that they haven't been left behind. That they're just as good of a WindClanner as their kin. Better, even, to be made a moor-runner a whole moon early. A comeback story for the ages, one that the queens would tell their kits about someday. Don't worry about being a prodigy, they'd say, Rumblepaw turned out alright. You will too.​

 

[BLUEFROST]

It is cold today. Bluepaw finds she does not mind. It helps to numb her paws, still sore from tearing out of her prison from under the earth. It helps to numb her mind, to muffle the whispers that have risen time and time again, that tell her there is something wrong with WindClan. She does not know what is wrong, because her mother had tried to kill her—but the smile she’d bestowed upon her daughter upon seeing her again had melted the worst of the ice from her blood. In the remaining snowmelt, Bluepaw flounders, sitting in a line beside Marmotpaw and the moor runners. Her littermate is receiving her name, Rumblepaw, Thriftpaw, Sparrowpaw.

She catches Thriftpaw’s eye, sees the subtle dip of his head. When he proclaims I do, it is with heart, with conviction. Marmotpaw does the same beside her—and then Rumblepaw, with their moor runner companions, gives their vow.

Bluepaw sits up straight. She levels her mother with a look that is both hopeful and nervous. There is tension around her as Sunstride and Scorchstreak draw near to watch the newest round of proteges receive their warrior name, and though she does not understand why, not really, she feels it in the marrow of her bones as she says, “I do.”

Because—because in the end, she does. Sootstar could raze the forest, and Bluepaw would follow her. Even if—even if StarClan is watching, even if the rest of the Clans will burn, too. Bluepaw will follow her. She must. It is in her blood.

, ”​

​

 

[SPARROWBREEZE]

✧ Leaf-bare’s chill sinks its fangs in her fur in ways only kitten-aged tragedies can bring memory to as she heeds Sootstar’s call for a meeting. Large paws born for the moor-running role she’d grown into pad toward the WindClan landmark that had once been foreign to her, that she had once been foreign to.

Horseplace-born, exile-gathered, Sparrowpaw sits beneath the Tallrock as a WindClan apprentice awaiting what news Sootstar brings forth to the clan, to those more suited to her favor, and those less so.

Six new warriors, she calls for, and Sparrowpaw only has the length of five names to wonder if she’ll be among them, hers called at the tail end among tunnelers, among moor-runners mostly younger than her. It is not with Sootstar’s sons that she’s to graduate with, their names chosen without hers in tow, but Sootstar’s daughters - most of them, at least.

And still, she wonders, as she stands among her fellow graduates, if she’s meant to be among them. She does not know the wrongs some of them faced in their assessments, but she knows that some of them - most of them - are held higher in the leader’s mind than her, than she probably ever will be.

Does she stick out among them? Probably. But, hasn’t she always?

Still, she supposes she’s trained as hard as she could, supposes she’s learned all she can about the high-tensioned clan she’d been brought up in. She deserves her name too, does she not?

Paws shift beneath her, before she moves to mirror the straightened posture of the apprentices she sits among, head held high, an amber gaze settled upon the smaller leader.

“I do,” she says, the pair of words void of the hesitant stride her voice typically takes.
​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

Sootstar's voice echoes out over the moors, and for a moment Rattleheart doesn't bother to move, body relaxed and head turned away from the molly that had declared herself queen of all that surrounded them. He was content to ignore her cry, figuring - much like Scorchstreak - that she had launched herself atop the Tallrock for yet another round of warmongering. Perhaps they were going to try and take over another clan's territory next, all while Sootstar proclaimed that it was only fair with the struggles of leafbare approaching. Even the ridiculous hypothetical felt far too plausible for comfort, the tunneler's claws digging into the earth in frustration as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He only allowed himself to relax when he realized she was speaking of apprentices being made into warriors.

That was enough to finally rouse him, his lanky form shifting and heading over to Scorchstreak's side. He brushed his shoulder against his sister's, hoping that her presence would be enough to soothe the anxiety still swirling in his chest. It seemed to slowly be easing - up until Rumblepaw's name was called amongst the six apprentices. Why? Why was his nibling up there, before all these cats? They still had time, they were supposed to still have time. They were supposed to still be allowed to just be a kid for a little longer, and not be forced into the war machine that Sootstar was creating. At least when they were just an apprentice, they had some kind of protection. But now? With this?

There was a heavy ache in Rattleheart's chest, returning Scorchstreak's look of confusion and intense worry as he held his tongue, knowing there was nothing he could do. He could cry out as loudly as he wanted to, but Sootstar had already wormed her way into Rumblepaw's mind, their statement of I do echoing horribly the moment it left their muzzle. So for the moment the tunneler just remained locked in place, staring forward as he remained a silent, stuck presence between Scorchstreak and Sunstride. The only ones it felt like he could understand, and the only ones it felt like could understand the hopelessness in his pale green gaze.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

┌────────────────────☽【❖】☾────────────────────┐​

When Sootstar calls, Luckypaw is quick to snap to attention, anything and everything he'd been doing moments before slipping away at the sudden yowl. Before the words register, his hair stands on end, as though danger might spring up from nothing; once it's clear the only danger is missing a meeting, however, he relaxes minutely, even if still on edge. When had he become so jumpy, he wonders? Was it before or after the dogs? The rock slide? Or something else entirely? He finds he doesn't know, can't quite remember when the boundary between caution and paranoia became so blurry, but that's something to set aside for later; for now, he simply slips into the forming crowd, ignoring the way his heartbeat is still settling. Nothing to worry about, surely, especially not when Sootstar declares warrior ceremonies first. It should be exciting, even, to see so many of his peers graduate to full warriors, and he finds his gaze drawn to each apprentice gathered in turn, only stuttering to a halt when Rumblepaw's name is called. Rumblepaw? But they were - they -

Dumbfounded, he can only watch as they step forward alongside the others, distinctly lacking in another sibling by their side. Distantly, he looks to Scorchpaw, who isn't up there either - Scorchpaw, who's also a moor runner, who should've been getting her name alongside Rumblepaw. It's not - it's not even time yet, he thinks - they've still got a whole moon's worth of training. He and Scorchpaw had lost time on the journey, even if that loss probably skewed his direction, but even still...Rumblepaw is graduating early. It's not the first time he considers just how much they had missed while away in the mountains, and it certainly won't be the last, but this time the weight feels enormous. Something had changed, during that time - something big, something nameless, something that sends roils of uncertainty throughout his gut. It's not that he isn't glad for Rumblepaw, or anything - it must be a real high honor, after all - but there's something so hard to reconcile with seeing the Rumblepaw standing up there and the Rumblepaw he remembers.

They don't even spare a glance in his direction, not for any of the rest of them, either, he's pretty sure, and as they affirm their loyalty Luckypaw takes the chance to look to Scorchstreak, to Rattleheart, even to Sunstride. Some unspoken tension lingers in all of them, some strange emotion passed around, and he has to tear his gaze away, troubled. They don't seem all that thrilled to see Rumblepaw up there, either, and it feels...bad, not to be proud of them. No hot jealousy courses through his veins, this time - all he can think is that if it were him up there, right now, he's not certain what his response would have been. No part of him feels at all ready to be a warrior, and he can't help but wonder just how Rumblepaw could feel so prepared - if they felt prepared, that is. Still - they'd said the words, and now all that's left is the wait to hear their name. To hear all of their names, that is. Thriftpaw is up there, too, and even though it's been far too long since they'd caught that butterfly together, he's still glad to see his friend have his warrior name bestowed upon him. Or, at least, he thinks they're friends, but over and over again since their return, it feels as if the floor has been shaken out beneath his paws, revelation after revelation throwing things into upheaval.

At the very least, he can be happy for the soon-to-be warriors, happy to hear their new names, at least in this moment. Even with Rumblepaw's back turned, Luckypaw schools his expression into something less concerned, on the off chance that they - or any of them, really - might glance back, somewhere in his direction. All of them deserved that, at least.​

i'm falling into place, but still the timing's not right (☘) yeah that's a fire i just can't seem to light

• OOC: --​
• 
• 
  - Luckykit Luckypaw
  - He/him (AFAB)
  - 8 moons (Ages on the 1st)
  - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
  - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
  - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
  - Minor powerplay allowed!
  - Penned by Hijinks​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

There is a tense quietness among the crowd as one-by-one the six apprentices speak their vows. Fur prickles along her spine and she cannot help but peer past the soon-to-be warriors and to the crowd themselves. Her clan has become cold, no longer was there a flame behind their eyes nor pride in their posture. Sootstar feels a dread in her heart and notes to keep those most loyal to her close, these young warriors included. This leaf-bare would challenge her clan and those worthy enough to be in it.

”Then I give you your warrior names.”

Bluepaw. Sootstar’s beautiful daughter, she was her shadow, her reflection. Dirt stains their white fur as proof of their many moons together side-by-side, after surviving her final trial Sootstar knows Bluepaw is worthy of this name. ”Bluepaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Bluefrost. The clan honors your intelligence and loyalty and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.” A pretty and elegant name, but it also held bite. Sootstar’s eyes burn with pride for the warrior she has created as she places her nose upon the warrior’s forehead. She expects nothing but excellence from Bluefrost, she is certain she will be made proud.

Next, Moorpaw. The black and white she-cat who looks nothing of her father nor mother, but a spitting image of her aunt and mentor, Mintshade. Though recovered evidence of the sickness that claimed her for moons sat evident on her body. It was difficult even now to not see a frail young she-cat, but Sootstar knows Moorpaw’s time is long overdue and Mintshade decreeds her training complete. She was ready now, she had to be. ”Moorpaw from this moment forward you will be known as Moorblossom. The clan honors your pure heart and zeal and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.” Sootstar pads forward and presses her black nose against her daughter’s forehead. She remembers a brief time where Moorkit was at her belly with Weaselclaw looming protectively over their litter. In this moment especially her heartaches for the mate she once had, he deserved to be here now watching his kits become warriors.

Sootstar pulls away with a shaky breath and adjusts her gaze onto the next apprentice. Marmotpaw, Nightmareface’s apprentice. She recalls being skeptical about the pairing, the former rogue had only just joined the clan, but Nightmareface had turned out to be a fine mentor. Her apprentice Marmotpaw had grown into a fine tunneler, ready and deserving to walk among the ranks of her warriors. ”Marmotpaw from this moment forward you will be known as Marmotbite. The clan honors your loyalty and ferocity and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.” Sootstar would not forget anytime soon the tales of how bravely the scarred she-cat had fought for her clan. She had been a force to be reckoned with in the reclaiming of their camp when it had been stolen away by WindClan rogues. Sootstar once more places her nose upon the full tunneler’s forehead.

”Thriftpaw,” She looks to the golden tabby, his smile warm and pride. It feels like only a moon ago Ghostwail had shown up with the scrap of yellow in her jaws, announcing to the clan that he was orphaned and asking Sootstar to take him in. With his kitten fluff now shed he presents himself today as a fine, young cat of WindClan with ample strength and loyalty to offer. ”From this moment forward you will be known as Thriftfeather. The clan honors your obidience and strength and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.” Her nose is placed upon his striped forehead, drawing away only once she feels the lick at her shoulder.

Next, a long-legged black and white feline. She is proud to say she sees not the child of a traitor, but the kit of fierce and loyal warrior whose proven themselves just in the past couple moons. Rumblepaw had been off to a rocky start, Sootstar has suspected them to be a slow learner…. perhaps even destined to be a lacking warrior. Yet in the last couple moons everything had changed, she suspects their mentor Brindlecloud to have been apart of the problem. After being trained by better warriors of the clan Rumblepaw’s performance rose and now they stand before her ready for a warrior name. A feat Sootstar is convinced would’ve never been possible under Brindlecloud alone. ”Rumblepaw from this moment forward you will be known as Rumblerain.” A nickname a traitor had coined for them, but now Sootstar regifts it. Rumblerain will use this name to help Sootstar bring terror to the forest, Badgermoon can watch from whatever hole he hides in as the name of a kit once innocent is coated in blood. ”The clan honors your preservenace and loyalty, we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.” Her nose is placed upon their head, a sly smile visible.

Last a brown tabby, the hesitance her voice typically held gone as she makes her promise to the clan. Sootstar meets her gaze approvingly, pleased that Sparrowpaw would not display reluctance in this moment. She was about to be a warrior of WindClan, the most powerful clan in the forest. ”Sparrowpaw from this moment forward you will be known as Sparrowbreeze. The clan honors your deidication and swiftness and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan.” Taking a step forward Sootstar rests her nose upon her head, as she feels the lick upon her shoulder the clan begins to chant the names of the new warriors.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[Azaleafrost]

Azaleafrost gathers before the tall rock for the meeting like any other time, but she is only here for one ceremony. Marmotpaw was being named a warrior today, and she felt excitement bubbling up inside. She liked Marmotpaw differently than her other friends. She still didn't understand it, but it was a warm feeling that she wanted to understand better. She just didn't know how.

She sits quietly as the apprentices say their I do's and watches them as the ceremony goes on. She only plans to cheer genuinely for Marmotpaw, the others mean very little to her because of slights or just not knowing them well enough.

There is something that really irks her about Bluepaw becoming Bluefrost. Now they share a part of their name, and that really grinds her gears. Azaleafrost feels the urge to prove that she is the better frost. Moorpaw's name is prettier, at least, and she's lucky to have it at all with how sick she had been.

And finally, it was Marmotpaw's turn. She is Marmotbite now, and Azaleafrost thinks that is a fitting name. She remembers the battle with the rogues fondly, the two of them had saved each other's lives and even before that, she was fitting of the name. Azaleafrost pays little attention to the rest of the ceremony, beaming at Marmotbite with a very rare happy expression.

"Bluefrost, Moorblossom, Marmotbite!!" She cheers, Marmotbite's name cheered more enthusiastically. "Rumblerain, Sparrowbreeze!"

After the cheering, she gets up to approach Marmotbite to congratulate her personally, feeling that now familiar flutter in her chest. "Congratulations on becoming a warrior.." She says. "You really earned it."​

 

[HARBINGERMOON]

☾ At the call of the moor queen, Harbingermoon is lured from earlier duties. Setting off in the familiar direction of the rock. Weaving through the gathering throngs, he makes a point to sit right near the front. His black and white pelt is noticeable in the fray as he soon rests in the leader's direct site. Something he always made an effort to do. Despite his less-than-desirable actions, they would not make him out as disloyal.

Beaming a polite smile, he watched with interest as the paws' were lined up for their naming ceremonies. Once the crowd settled, he noted Sootstar's signal and settled promptly. With each new name, pride swelled in the Tunneler's chest. New warriors meant growth in strength and prosperity. Which was something Windclan needed now more than ever. More claws and wits to tear down any that defied them.

Each name rolled pleasantly in the tom's mind as he gazed upon the new warriors with eagerness. At the end of the ceremonies, he joined the raging chorus. Pointedly steering into the neutral territory when shouting. "Bluefrost! Moorblossom! Marmotbite! Thriftfeather! Rumblerain! Sparrowbreeze!" Once each cat's name was chanted, his voice simmered into silence.

He watched idly as the newly named cats received rounds of applause and congratulations. It wasn't in his nature to make niceties with every cat, so he instead left the earlier smile firmly on his maw. Eventually, his orange gaze peered curiously at the leader. Waiting patiently to see if there was more to be announced. ☽​

 

[hollowcreek]

( ✧ ) New warriors to fill the fields would ensure them a heartier leafbare. After their last meeting where they had an overfilled nursery to name, it was reassuring to see the apprentices den would be rewarded a bit more space after this. He is joined beside Harbringermoon in their usual spot in front of Sootstar, keeping close to his friend while they watched the warriors named.

Among them was Rumblepaw, and he felt a fiery pride in seeing the Moor Runner claim their place beside Sootstar. Not daring to make the same mistakes as their father. He glanced over to Scorchstreak, trying to pick apart her expression, amused by her tension.

"Bluefrost! Moorblossom! Marmotbite! Thriftfeather! Rumblerain! Sparrowbreeze!" Hollowcreek chanted with the rest, honeyed eyes alight as he looked over their new loyal warriors.
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( I SEE YOUR COLLARBONE ; AND WANNA LOSE CONTROL )

 

[PEONYBREEZE]

❀༉˖° There was a new kind of excitement buzzing in Peonypaw's bones. Meetings with strictly good news, such as the official naming of new warriors, was always a good sign for the Clans' future - but soon, that would be him. His gaze swept over the six cats who stood before Sootstar, took note of the way they stood and looked, and tried to imagine himself in their stead. Already.

The somber thought of what his parents might have thought of him now crossed his mind. That him and Petalpaw could have been there together.

Peonypaw rudely shoved the thoughts aside; none of them would do him any good. There was no point dwelling on what could never be.

Instead, he made sure his voice was strong as it got carried by the chilly wind. "Bluefrost, Moonblossom, Marmotbite!" I'm at your heels. "Thriftfeather, Rumblerain, Sparrowbreeze!" I'll be joining you in the warriors' den soon, just you wait.

°
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[milkthorn.]

Milkthorn had chosen to sit next to the golden apprentice, or at least near him during the meeting. Leafbare was announced, which seemed painstakingly obvious as the nights and days began to get colder. His own scruffy fur was enough to keep him a bit warm. but he did long for a thick pelt sometimes during the winter.

he had tried to be closer to thriftpaw since he checked up on the warrior while in the medicine den. he tried to be closer to his clanmates in general. offering his aid whenever he could and stopped entirely of causing issues within the clan.

their promises upheld, Sootstar would continue with naming them their warrior names. each fitting, with meanings that were significant to each individual. Thriftfeathers got a small chuckle out of him, remembering how panicked he had seemed over the feather. but it was important to him. and now he carries it in his name. "Blue frost! Moonblossom! Marmotbite! Thriftfeather! Rumblerain! Sparrowbreeze!" he shouted, a grin on his face with a cheer to his tone.

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[SCORCHSTREAK]

With both Rattleheart and Sunstride at her side, Scorchstreak manages to relax a bit, putting on the neat façade of a mother proud to see her kit become a warrior. But it’s wrong, and each breath feels icy cold inside of her chest, as she watches Rumblepaw take their vow. They don’t even look at her, at any of their kin, as they pledge their loyalty to Sootstar. There is no StarClan to pledge under the watchful eye of; WindClan does not operate under their ancestors any longer. It is only Sootstar who stands above them, only Sootstar who reigns supreme.

Rumblerain, her kit is named—an imitation of their father’s nickname for them. It would be sweet, if it didn’t come from Sootstar. If it weren’t a mockery, a reminder. If her kit weren’t being made into a warrior too early. All the other new warriors fade into the background, unimportant, as Scorchstreak stares at her kit. "Rumblerain," she murmurs, a halfhearted cheer for them, before continuing into a chant of the other cats’ names. Her heart may not be in it, but appearances must be unkept, mustn’t they?
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[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

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[MOORBLOSSOM]

Excitement scrapes at her insides like gorse spines catching skin. This is a milestone long foreseen, and one long denied by destiny's playful manipulations—but the moment, her moment, will be realised in the short morrow.

And Moorpaw is nothing less than ecstatic.

Training under three different mentors' wings is not a boast many apprentices can lay claim to, nor is falling ill with yellowcough without succumbing to its grip, and yet here she stands, miraculous and prepared. Close proximity to her sister holds her hostage before Tallrock, awaiting a naming ceremony that should have rightfully occurred moons ago.

It all passes through her ears as she absorbs the words spoken for formality's sake; the commentary on an elder's prophetic bones almost provokes a giggle, but she maintains the decorum expected of a WindClan warrior. When her mother steers towards the graduating apprentices (six altogether!), only then does she swerve away from daydreams and listen anew. Bluepaw, Marmotpaw, Thriftpaw, Rumblepaw, Sparrowpaw, and, naturally, herself. It is with pride that these names are put forward, and Moorpaw drinks in the praise thirstily. "I do!"

Her chest feels fit to burst as her littermate is first to be called forward. Bluepaw is ever deserving of her name, what with the extra moons of training that being a tunneler demanded. Delight glosses over her green eyes. Moorpaw admires Bluepaw's reserve—whereas she fidgets as she waits—and stares raptly on as Sootstar commits upon her a full rank and a full name. Bluefrost! Stars, she hopes her name is just as cool!

Thrumming in her heart is not only honour, but longing; and it accelerates tenfold as the leader demands her focus next. At once, her posture stiffens, her paws clench, and a nervous exhale warbles loose. Doing her darndest to keep a serious expression only results in naught—the instant her mother draws near, an itchy smile conquers all.

From there, it begins.

Moorpaw doesn't quite know what zeal means, admittedly. Pure of heart, however, she has to have in abundance! She knows this because, as rare as close encounters with her mom unfortunately tend to be, the brief periods within paw's reach are always overwhelming in the best of ways. A solitary blink punctuates Sootstar's speech. Upon reopening her eyes, a warrior gazes up in place of an apprentice.

And she's beaming, bees buzzing in the meadows of her pride. Moorblossom! Moorblossom! Pretty against any circumstance and exciting as life could give; it's official, she's a big cat now. ​