Ceremonies (May 2013)

[Waffu-Waffu]

STEALTHSTAR

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the hanging ice for…for a…” The young leader fumbled over his words. The last bit of his announcement escaped his mind, and he found his skin burning beneath his fur. The oversized white tom was always viewed as useless, and this slip up would only hurt the reputation he had just built up. He cursed under his breath, but at that moment, the phrase found its way back to him, and he finished his address with vigor. “Clan assembly!” That, of course was wrong, but he seemed rather pleased with himself since his tail was standing straight up, and his maw was upturned happily.

It had been just a short while since he was given leadership of the clan, and not only did he need to assign mentors and apprentices, be needed to establish his still shaky authority…And a deputy. It was a tense decision for any leader, especially one that so many had mixed feelings about. Stealthstar had to choose wisely, or some would be displeased, and he couldn’t have that!

He watched as cats of all ages, sizes and colors gathered under the ice that hung down from the top of the cavern like dangerous, yet graceful spikes. They could kill any number of them easily, yet, the place struck not far, but awe in the hearts of those that stood there. They shimmered, and the bit of sunlight that drifted in occasionally would make them sparkle happily. That’s why that spot was designated to be the gathering spot for the clan; it was a place fit for a leader to speak. Except, Stealthstar wasn’t the graceful leader they all wished to have. Once all were there, the chubby, blue eyed cat cleared his throat and began his first ceremony awkwardly.

“F-First…” He was nervous, and that was bad, “I need to give an apprentice another mentor, due to unfortunate circumstances. Furzepaw…?” He skipped the formalities in favor to transfer the attention to the youngster that needed a mentor. He was going to name the apprentice’s mentor someone close to his heart, someone he knew was capable, and had yet to get an apprentice. The two lower adapted individuals would make an interesting pair. Aside from that, he loved the dose of humor that came with it; Furzepaw’s previous mentor had the same prefix. “Gorsehawk? Come up.”

[Deleted]

[shadow=red,left,300]Gorsehawk[/shadow]

The death of the previous leader, the ancient Fogstar, still lingered in the camp like the haze that suspended over SkyClan territory. Though the old leader's life had no sentimental value to the young tom who sat solemnly at the outskirts of camp, he still felt a sense of sorrow.

The brown and white tabby pondered over the pale tom's corpse as he performed a silent vigil for the fallen leader. This once vigorous and respected feline led SkyClan at the time of his birth and through many seasons before it. He was the very cat that performed his apprenticeship ceremony and eventually welcomed him as a full-fledged warrior at his turn.

The clan felt empty and hollow without him present and alive in his den. He was their leader for so many generations that it seemed as if he was immortal. Using his nine lives wisely, Fogstar had remained in power to see three generations of SkyClaners come and go. It was only a matter of time until his great age caught up with him. He passed away in his sleep, too frail to fight a cough that confined him to his den for the last moon of his life.

Nevertheless, the tom left his clan in the paws of his deputy, Stealthstep. Gorsehawk couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell inside his chest. Stealthstep had been his mentor, and though he didn't appreciate his mentor at first, he soon learned to respect and even enjoy the jolly feline's company.

Reminiscing soon brought him to remember a ceremony he only saw once in his lifetime. Stealthstep, now more appropriately titled Stealthstar, would have to name a deputy before moonhigh according to clan traditions.

Excitement made his paws tingle. The young warrior's amber eyes slithered across the sea of familiar faces that littered the clearing. Some of the SkyClan cats were already beginning gather, waiting for their new leader to make his appearance. Gorsehawk began to pick each of them apart, eager to discover which of these cats would become the next deputy.

A yowl split through the silence of the camp and wrenched the young tom from his thoughts. Stealthstar had made his way to the ceremonial ledge where he would now adress the clan for moons to come. Gorsehawk made his way under the hanging ice as his new leader beckoned to hm and his clanmates. Anticipation caused his short tail to quiver as he took a seat towards the middle of the crowd, gazing expectantly up at the thick-furred feline.

He had to admit that his fluffy friend looked rather awkward as he stood upon his new post, looking down at his clan with nervous blue eyes. Gorsehawk had to bite back a chuckle as the new leader goofed up the traditional words that were used to summon the clan from generations upon generations. Leave it to Stealthstar to butcher the proper verse. He thought with affection for the heavyset tom.

The young warrior listened absentmindedly as Stealthstar went on to an apprentice ceremony. He was more concerned with clan politics than a trivial apprentice.

Gorsehawk caught a glimpse of the plump apprentice that sat at the base of the ledge. Furzepaw had lost his mentor quite recently and it was about time he was placed in the paws of another before he devoured all of the clan's hunting efforts.

The young warrior flinched at the sound of his name. He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he heard correctly. Sure enough, Stealthstar was gazing down at him, waiting for a response. The amber eyed tom swallowed with difficulty. He was not expecting to receive an apprentice so soon. The young warrior half hoped he would be given one of Snowflower's kits to mentor, but apparently his leader had other plans.

Gathering his composure, Gorsehawk got to his paws and padded confidently out from the crowd. Despite how tense he was at the moment, he held his head high and his short tail erect. The brown and white tabby halted at Furzepaw's hefty flank, glancing down at the smaller feline with dismay. Naturally he'd get stuck with the clan's problem-kit.

But he couldn't judge the tom right away... After all, Stealthstar was considered the joke of the clan once; but here he was, standing before his clan as leader.



//All events, including Fogstar or any other historical ideas, was discussed previously before this thread and approved by SML//

[~XxSnakethxX~]

SNowflower, heavy with her kits, pushed out of the nursery to watch the ceremony. She knew Furzepaw and Gorsehawk, both were fine cats. Furzepaw was a little plump, but she was sure he would grow out of it. The apprentice was hardly more than a kit and he'd already lsot his firstt mentor. Gorsehawk was a fine warrior, and would train Furzepaw well. Treating Furzepaw well was another story...

[Mama Oak]

furzepaw, the sloth
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A N D x A T x O N C E x I x K N E W ,
I x W A S x N O T x S I G N I F I C A N T .

When Furzepaw’s brilliant amber eyes blinked themselves open, Stealthstar’s words were lingering in the air, already spoken and only just echoing from the camp’s frozen walls. With a quiet, irriated groan, the plump SkyClan apprentice shifted his weight and allowed his heavy eyelids to slide lazily over his optics once more. However, as his lingering drowsiness — the dark, clouding confusion of unconsciousness — began to clear from his mind, comprehension sunk slowly through his thick skull and his eyes promptly snapped back open. In a rush of self-horror, the tom scrambled to his paws and peeked out from behind the massive, icy stalagmite, where he had been peacefully napping. Had the newly-appointed leader just spoken his name?

His heart thudded audibly in his ears, his breath hitching with panic, as he realized that the clan had already assembled beneath Stealthstar’s authortive perch and were waiting expectantly. He had slept through the assembly’s call and it was his ceremony! For a moment, Furzepaw was incapable of moving forward; his paws one with the ice, glued there by a sudden and terrible social anxiety. How foolish he would look, sprinting up there — no, bumbling up there! He’d been dozing most of the morning, taking advantage of the short period he was mentorless by hiding himself away and burying himself in the inky oblivion of sleep. His pelt was a ruffled mess of bristling white, notably and undismissably cowlicked by his oafish stagnancy, and he had no time at all to groom himself. Oh, StarClan have mercy, his hiding place was not even behind his assembled clan-mates. They would see him emerge, slink guiltily up there, and know immediately that he had wasted the morning away.

But then again, not one of them would be surprised. He had a reputation, after all. Had the other apprentices rolled their eyes disdainfully at the call of his name? He had already damned himself to the distasteful view of his clanmates; this mishap would only justify their thoughts of him.

Stealthstar continued and Gorsehawk’s name relieved the silence, bringing Furzepaw from his castigating thoughts and forcing his paws to move. As the deputy, his new mentor, moved toward the ledge beneath their leader, Furzepaw clumsily bounded to meet him, the fur of his plump belly brushing the ice with each step. Silently he prayed that he would not trip over his large paws, for he could already feel the eyes of his clanmates boring into his messy, snow-white pelt. In his mind, he could hear their voices. The insults, the names, the disdain — he imagined the endless scorn and it assaulted him. His own thoughts... they were already pushing him back to the shadows and to the warm, empty darkness of sleep; the only place he could escape his fierce self-loathing.

His head was bent shamefully, his pelt hot and flushed beneath his fur despite the cold. He only lifted his sunburst gaze to Gorsehawk’s for a fleeting moment; the dismay he saw in the older tom’s eyes quickly coaxing his own once-more downcast. How long before that dismay became frustration? And then that frustration, anger? Disappointment? He had made quick work finding such sentiments in the eyes of his grandfather and previous mentor, Gorsepelt. He couldn’t make Gorsepelt proud, he wouldn’t make Gorsehawk proud, and this ceremony was a joke. They both would be miserable and, as usual, Furzepaw found himself considering each and every corner and shadow of the camp and territory where he could hide himself when this embarrasment was over; where he would be undisturbed and swallowed by darkness.

His gaze flitted upward to Stealthstar, and for a moment tried to fix itself there. But humility burned at his eartips and he had to focus his sight beyond the new leader, hoping the ceremony would be mercifully swift.

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Words: 639
Tagged: Participating SkyClanners and their talented puppet-masters.
Post Scriptum: This is back on, now, I presume? Also, I know that in Jae’s post, Furzepaw was already there beneath the ledge, but it only struck me to double-check after I had already half-written this. I hope it’s forgivable, and if not, let me know and I’ll attempt a re-write.