Δ . 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙙 ‣ 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚙

[whispersome]

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐏𝐀𝐖
She/they • 13 moons • Apprentice
TAGGED: Blackstar, other apprentices • LOCATION: Camp

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Adrenaline seized Rookpaw’s body at Blackstar’s call, and she jolted to all fours. The excitement that surged throughout her felt almost too much for her to handle. It seemed to expand well beyond her physical limitations, the force of it nearly knocking her over as soon as she’d stood. She couldn’t even begin to help it, though—finally, finally, she was going to become a warrior.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ A moon longer than normal wasn’t too agonizing, maybe—let alone in comparison to how long Ashpaw had waited—but to Rookpaw it felt like a season. Several seasons. Even without the interference of the rockslide and its aftermath, which had taken their toll even on Rookpaw, there had been (totally unfounded, as far as she was concerned) doubts about when she would be able to become a warrior, she knew. And today, she got to prove them all wrong.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Rookpaw rushed toward where the rest of her clanmates were gathered, approaching Blackstar but attempting to maintain a respectful distance. The eagerness that rippled through her was familiar, easy to harness and sink into—the anxiety beneath it, far less so, and so Rookpaw ignored it entirely. Being jittery with enthusiasm was normal. And it wasn’t like she could just… not be made a warrior. Right? She had worked hard, and she had tried to work even harder after everything had happened, and she had even been trying to get in less fights over the past couple of moons—trying being the operative word, obviously, but it was a start. Of course she was going to become a warrior. There was no way she wouldn’t.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Patience wasn’t in Rookpaw’s nature, but she forced herself to go still regardless; this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, after all. At the thought, though, Rookpaw’s ear twitched. Her father should have been here for this. Her mother should have, too, but Rookpaw barely even remembered her, so it was difficult to summon such a strong feeling over her. There was closure there, anyway—Rookpaw could, however dubiously, at least assume she was watching from wherever she was, be it StarClan or whatever skyscape wandering rogues ended up in. But her father… he had been here when she was made an apprentice, then left the very next day. Taking this next step without him, even if it had been seven moons now since he’d parted ways with SageClan, felt wrong. Had he forgotten all about her? Or had he tried to return to the clan last moon, when she should have earned her warrior name, only to find the wreckage of their former camp and draw the natural conclusion from that?

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Neither thought was more comforting than the other. The end result, no matter what, was the same: This was surely the most important moment of Rookpaw’s life, and neither of her parents were here to see it.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Rookpaw flexed her claws against the dirt. This was an important moment, she reminded herself, and for once she wanted to keep the swell of anger—and whatever lurked below it, which she didn’t want to acknowledge in the slightest—within her from ruining things. If her father couldn’t be here, her uncle would at least have to do, she decided with an apprehensive glance toward Blackstar.

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
He/him • 33 moons • Warrior
TAGGED: Open • LOCATION: Camp

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ( at the ceremony, probably hanging with fireflight and/or some of the apprentices )

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄
She/her • 51 moons • Warrior
TAGGED: Jaguarpaw • LOCATION: Camp

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ It had been an arduous three moons, and Scorchstrike was glad to see the chaos beginning to come to an end. Boring times had never quite suited her, but there was a stark difference between her brand of excitement and the destruction and desolation that had ravaged the clan. SageClan had persisted, however, and now Scorchstrike would argue that they were even stronger now, hardened by their experiences.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Not all of them were up to those standards, though, as the amount of time Scorchstrike had devoted to looking after her brother as of late would attest to. It had been rare for her to actually visit the medicine den where he had been holed up for some time along with his apprentice, but from afar, she had kept her attention on his condition and recovery. She had spoken to Cinderpaw more in the past several moons than she thought she had since he was born. Injuries and illnesses were things Scorchstrike avoided at all costs, after all, and shrugged off if she could. Foxbite did the same—this, however, wasn’t something he could shrug off.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ He’d still tried, of course, and so Scorchstrike had made certain to not trust a single word out of his mouth about his state and instead watch him as closely as possible. Today, it seemed, he was doing about as decent as he continued to assert he was, so Scorchstrike’s attention was only on him in the peripheral sense. Instead, she had gone off to briefly hunt on her own, starting to relax into the freedom of not being accompanied by an apprentice.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ She returned, a decent-sized pika between her jaws, just in time to catch Blackstar’s announcement. Scorchstrike’s ears flicked up. So it was happening now, then. A calm sort of enthusiasm swept over her, and she let it settle into her chest before dropping the prey in the fresh-kill pile—perhaps one of the queens would want it when this meeting was over—and joining the rest of her clanmates.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Her eyes dragged through the crowd, seeking one pelt in particular—when they landed upon it, Scorchstrike straightened and cut a sharp path toward her apprentice. “Well, today is the day,” she said by way of greeting, quirking her head to peer down at him. She was still significantly larger than Jaguarpaw, but he had filled out over the moons nevertheless, gangly with youth but still looking the part of a sharp warrior. Before long, she supposed, he would grow into himself even more. The thought was oddly harrowing—Scorchstrike had never thought of herself as the maternal type, but the simultaneous spark of pride and fear that shot through her felt rather tinted that way regardless. “Long overdue, wouldn’t you say? Congratulations, all the same. You’ve worked hard to attain this, and you’ve more than earned it.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Outright praise from Scorchstrike was rare, and the pointed look she gave Jaguarpaw made it clear that it wasn’t to be taken for granted. Her ears were lax, though, and her tail brushed Jaguarpaw’s shoulder as she swept past. “Come, let’s join the others. This ceremony is partially to celebrate and honor you, after all.”

𝐅𝐎𝐗𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄
He/him • 51 moons • Warrior
TAGGED: Cypresspaw • LOCATION: Camp

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Three moons removed from the destruction of SageClan’s former camp, Foxbite was doing—as he would insist to anyone who asked—quite well. The new camp was working out splendidly for them thus far, his pain had receded a considerable amount, and most importantly, there was a distinct celebratory feeling in the air.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ The past several moons had not been his proudest out of all fifty-one. Laziness had always been in Foxbite’s nature, but sleeping through a rockslide, waking only to acknowledge how his entire leg was numb and that he was being pulled from the rubble among several other limp bodies, and then sleeping through most of the aftermath was, admittedly, a new low. Missing out on the action had bothered him more than the pain, when at last it had kicked in, had. Scorchstrike had regaled him with a meager amount of anecdotes, but she had been more intent on lecturing and snapping at Foxbite during her occasional visits to the medicine den. Infection hadn’t set in, but boredom surely had, and had Foxbite been cleared a day later it would have led to a far swifter end.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ He didn’t care now, though. His leg was doing better—really, it was, regardless of Cinderpaw’s careful inspections and Scorchstrike’s sharp looks. He was able to walk now, no matter how heavy his limp was, which automatically made things better than the several days he’d been cooped up in the medicine den and dependent on others for support. Attention was fine (better than fine, really), but pity and fussy care were things he could do without.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ So fine, in fact, that today he was taking a leisurely jaunt around the camp. Hunting normally was still just beyond his grasp, to Foxbite’s mounting irritation; he had been made to all but swear not to get involved in any sort of combat so as to avoid aggravating his injury. It irritated Foxbite, but he’d smiled and agreed as though it was easy. He didn’t stray far from where his sister could see him, either, flicking his ears at her in defiance every time he caught her narrowed stare.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Moving about seemed to help, even if all the soreness came back to Foxbite later. His limp was improving, he was sure—some days it didn’t feel like it, but only when hedgehogs started flying was he going to admit to the doubts that lurked at the darkest recesses of his mind. And just as they caught up to him, he made the decision to return to the camp and perhaps spend some time lying in the sun. The sky was so clear today, and the breeze was gentle upon his pelt; though he quite didn’t like the thought of having an excuse, per se, to laze about now, Foxbite wasn’t one to miss out on such an opportunity.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ As he stepped back toward his clanmates, a voice rang out, and Foxbite’s attention automatically turned to Blackstar. Then he looked over the apprentices gathered near him, and Foxbite’s whiskers twitched with subtle anticipation. The absent apprentice, however, was just as visible as those present. Even as he continued moving forth, Foxbite’s head turned toward one cat amongst the others.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Making sure to approach from the side Cypresspaw could still see on, Foxbite strode—as much as he could stride, at any rate—over, seating himself beside his apprentice. “Cypresspaw,” he greeted, voice steady and warm. “You’re looking bright today—how are you feeling? Leg doing all right?” Almost subconscious, he adjusted his own, shifting his weight until his position was more comfortable. It had seemed a bit too fateful that he and his apprentice had both been so severely wounded by the rockslide, though of course Foxbite had to admit to having wound up better off than Cypresspaw had; one more reason not to complain, he reasoned.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ That train of thought, however, was soon glossed over as Foxbite’s gaze wandered toward the rest of the clan. “Exciting stuff, hm? That’ll be you soon enough, I promise.” His words were absent yet confident, not so much as a glance thrown toward Cypresspaw as he spoke. “In the meantime, did you want to move any closer? You can lean on me if you need to.”

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐊𝐈𝐓
She/her • 3 moons • Kit
TAGGED: Waspstrike, Mothkit, Cedarkit • LOCATION: Camp

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ The stress of the past several moons hadn’t been lost on Cherrykit, young as she was. Her earliest memories, foggy as they seemed when she tried to look back now, had been of being guarded by big, tough-looking cats, surrounded by rubble that was different—but not too different—from where they now lived. Even after they’d traveled here, so many of her clanmates had seemed troubled, and did even now. It troubled Cherrykit, and it troubled her more that there was so much about it she didn’t understand. There were so many names she didn’t know, and so many regular words too, and so many murmurs of when you’re older that were technically true but hard for her to accept.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Nestled against her mother’s side, though, all that seemed to fade away. A purr rumbled through Cherrykit’s body. Seeing her settled in such a way was already rare, with how boisterious and energetic she was, but basking in the sun like this with Waspstrike and the other queens close, Cherrykit thought, was just as good as causing whatever mischief she and the other kits could get into.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ The sound of Blackstar’s announcement brought her head snapping up, though, and her head swiveled to keep up with all the movement. Her first warrior ceremony! How exciting! Cherrykit couldn’t help but steal a glance toward Frostmourn—apparently, he’d been made a warrior right around when she was born, but she couldn’t remember that. She wondered what it was like. She wouldn’t be wondering for long, of course, but her curious eyes still shot all about, hoping to glean some hints from how the warriors and apprentices alike were carrying themselves and talking amongst themselves.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ As quickly as she had decided on this mission, she was distracted from it by Mothkit’s hurried approach. It took a second for his words to process, rushed as Cherrykit’s thoughts were, but when they did she was scurrying to her paws. “Hey, wait up!” she declared as she rushed forward after both him and Cedarkit, who too was quick to announce his joining. In her exuberance, she stumbled over herself, squeaking out a quick yelp before righting herself and ignoring any worried vocalizations that might have come after her, bound and determined to catch up with her brother.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ By the time she had, she found that he had tripped, too, staggering back from where he’d bumped into another cat’s leg. Cherrykit ducked to the side, retrospectively glad for her stumble—if she’d been a few heartbeats faster, that probably would have been her. She hung several steps back, watching with wide eyes but ready to intervene on Mothkit’s behalf.

[Laetificat]

Wolfheart - Tags: Mothkit, Cedarkit, Cherrykit
He had just finished eating his prey when Blackstar made the announcement. Though none of the current graduating apprentices were his own, he felt just as much pride for them. They had all worked hard in the aftermath of the disaster, and had many times over won the right to be called warriors. His thoughts were interrupted by a small bundle of fur crashing into his leg. “Ah, Mothkit, where are you running to?” Wolfheart asked, then paused as two more kits came rushing his way. “Oh dear, it seems I’m getting rushed by a bunch of warriors. I swear I didn’t mean to injure your leader.” He chuckled and watched Mothkit, confident the little tom was okay, but checking just to be sure.

Birchpaw - Tags: Beartuft
Birchpaw looked up at Beartuft and cocked his head. “What kind of training are we doing today?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to fight or hunt more. His long legs made everything awkward and he still had yet to grow into them. Before his mentor could respond, Blackstar made the summons for the clan. “Oh! A warriors ceremony!” Birchpaw exclaimed, then glanced apologetically at his mentor. “Sorry, I guess I can ask later.”

Creekwillow - Tags: Open
She was roused from her nap by the call of her mate. It was finally time for the apprentices to become warriors, overdue even. Creekwillow stepped outside of the nursery and watched on proudly as her mate stood at the head of the clan.

Otterfur - Tags: Lightheart
She lounged in the sun beside Lightheart, soaking in the sun as she watched her gaggle of kits run around. “Look at them, already so strong,” she cooed, pressing her head to her mate’s side lovingly. Otterfur looked up as Blackstar called for the clan, then got to her paws. “It’s finally time for those apprentices to be made warriors! Let’s hurry and get a front row spot.” Otterfur nosed at Lightheart, trying to hurry him over to the ceremony.

[DylanJollyRancher]

Tom
38 Moons
Warrior
Location; Camp
Romantic interest; --
Tags; Open

Riverclaw

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Riverclaw was nearby when Blackstar made the call to have a meeting and there was no doubt what it was about. The warrior ceremony for the apprentices, what a wonder day it would be for the young cats. Quite the achievement that they have obtained after so long, they all deserved it. The warrior was especially excited for today since his brother turned out to be one of the apprentices who should be receiving their names. With a bright smile, the tom hurried over to gather and watch the ceremony.

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Tom
13 Moons
Apprentice
Location;
Romantic interest; --
Tags; Open

Jaguarpaw

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Three moons. Three moons has passed by since the catastrophe of Sageclan and all the members who lived through that tragic heartbreaking day. Families torn apart through deaths, short-term and long-term injuries to those unfortunately got caught up with the rubble, and just overall emotional stress through it all. It may have been only three moons in reality since, but in retrospect it seemed like seasons were going by living out those days, eternity even.

At first the only good thing that seemed to come from the clan's ordeal was the fact that they managed to find a new home, huge thanks to Frostmourn. However, with time, the clan was bouncing back. Jaguarpaw contributed wherever the clan needed someone, whether it be for muscle with rebuilding something or to hunt to gather food for the clan, he was on it. The rebuilding of Sageclan was a process with everyone's state of mine and physical abilities, but it still managed to happen in good pace.

So what if a moon extra went by without Jaguarpaw receiving his warrior ceremony to receive his warrior name. He had to trust that Blackstar knew what he was doing. Right? Besides the tome hadn't been the only apprentice to have their ceremoy delayed, there were a few others. So who was he to be a kit and fuss about it? Scorchstrike would probably have his tail if he did anyway and that was a scary thought. In the time that a moon went over, Jaguarpaw dedicated his time towards the need of the clan so that he wouldn't grow so impatient or think about his delay so much.

Today was beginning to seem like any other of the previous days for the clan, that is for Jaguarpaw it did. His routine was usually somewhere along the line of-- wake up, wash up, help wherever was needed or hunt, eat, repeat step three, then sleep, and repeat. Of course the apprentice had to catch a break at some point and that's exactly what he was doing, up until Blackstar's words rang all about. Blackstar was calling for a meeting! This was it, it was time! The moment Jaguarpaw and, he was almost sure of it, his denmates had been waiting for.

It was no surprise when Scorchstrike showed up by his side, rather than be jumpy about her sudden appearance, the tom took pride in his mentor being so close. This is what they trained for, this is what he trained for, all of his training was for this specific and memorable day. The excitement began to well up within the apprentice for what today was. "Thank you, Scorchstrike. I want nothing more than to have you proud of me. Well, besides Riverclaw and the rest of the clan. You're at the top of that list though!" Jaguarpaw replied, trying to hold the excitement down in his voice, although it clearly reflected from his blue gaze on the she-cat. "Afterall, without you pushing me to my potential, where would I be? You may be on the side of tough love, but I would take that any day over having to have someone else mentor me. I got really lucky." In the split second that the tom stopped talking, he realized how soft and mushy that may have sounded and almost immediately shot his head away to watch Blackstar's next move in order to hide how flustered he became. Smooth move, Jaguarpaw. You probably sounded like a kit being mushy.
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