Post by Fate Admin on Feb 16, 2013 21:53:26 GMT -5
It seemed to Ravenfeather that her little sister had only just gotten her full name as a medicine cat, though that wasn’t entirely true. Dapplecloud may have retired and joined StarClan none too long ago but Smokefur had been given her full name some moons ago. Now her little sister was leading her to the Moon Tree to receive her nine lives and her new name as NightClan’s leader. As a warrior she had occasionally accompanied Stripestar or Dapplecloud to the Moon Tree as part of their escort, but she of course had never entered the cavern said to hold the mystical tree StarClan used to communicate with the Clans.
She glanced behind her to see her own escort, Blackwolf, a promising young warrior, Silverpaw padding after him and almost drooling. If Ravenfeather could roll her eyes at the young she-cat she would have. And Roughthroat, a tom similar in age to her. They had been apprentices at the same time, though Ravenfeather’s memories of apprenticehood were rarely pleasant, what with all the teasing about her size and stupid fluffy fur. Most all the apprentices, besides Boneshadow, had teased her at some point… though she could recall that Roughthroat was one of the few who hadn’t… or if he had, he’d at least kept his thoughts to himself or hadn’t said it where she could hear.
Turning back to Smokefur, padding steadily ahead of her, she looked past her sister and realized she was no longer really looking UP at where they were going. Their journey had flattened out a bit and with another turn of her head she could see the valley far below, the great river of RainClan like a sparkling snake from this distance. All the way across the valley lay the dark pines of NightClan’s home and her fur fluffed out slightly at the thought of being so far away from her Clan. At least this was likely to be the last journey to the Moon Tree she would ever need to make. She was happy to leave that unwanted task to Smokefur.
Finally her sister paused and beckoned her forward with her tail. She looked back at her escort again, “Wait here. Feel free to see if you can catch any prey while you wait, but don’t wander far.” Without waiting for a response, she turned back and followed Smokefur into the depths of the cavern, her fur fluffing out at the chill that continued to grow as they descended. Finally they reached the bottom and Smokefur led her up to the great glowing white tree that could only be the Moon Tree. She was instructed to curl up among the roots by her little sister. She took one hesitant step forward before she pushed such weak feelings away. She was about to become leader, she wasn’t about to be scared off by some old tree. As if to prove it to herself, she leapt up onto one of the roots for a moment before picking a spot to settle down in.
She closed her eyes as Smokefur instructed, and waited. Her tail began to twitch impatiently and finally she opened her eyes and sat up, about to confront her sister about why nothing was happening. But Smokefur wasn’t there and neither was the Moon Tree. Instead… it looked like she was sitting at StarClan’s Claws. Turning to look behind her she confirmed her suspicion when she saw the Great Rock from which all the Clans’ leaders announced their news every full moon. Looking back in front of her she leapt to her paws as suddenly rows of cats as far as the eye could see sat before her, their fur glistening as if coated in dew drops shining in the morning sunlight, their eyes bright and unblinking as they gazed upon her small form.
She had of course believed in StarClan all her life, had a certain amount of respect for her warrior ancestors, for the cats who had come before her and passed on their ways and made great journeys to bring them to their home here in the valley. But she had never really thought to imagine what it would be like to meet them. She had aspired to become NightClan’s leader since before she left the nursery, to show everyone that despite her size, she deserved their respect not their scorn. But not once had she thought of what that meeting with StarClan, where she would finally get her name and nine lives, would be like.
She stared wide-eyed, looking about slowly as she tried to recognize familiar faces. If this was really StarClan then the deceased from her past should be among them. Her ears perked as one young cat stepped forward, “Sharp-paw-”
But he cut her off with a predictably rude remark, “Welcome to StarClan, Ravenkit.”
His bright amber eyes sparkled with mirth as her ears flattened and her fur fluffed up indignantly, “I would have asked Stripestar to name you Sharptongue!”
He seemed even more amused by this, but Ravenfeather’s fur was already lying flat once more, though her ears remained pressed to her head in mock annoyance. Her apprentice apparently hadn’t changed since his death. As she looked upon him for a moment longer a guilty look passed over her features but the larger, if much younger tom only snarled angrily when he saw it, “Never look at me like that again!” His tail lashed angrily and he stepped forward, thrusting his nose against his former mentor’s and all but growled, “With this life I give you confidence in yourself, and in your Clan. Never doubt yourself or the decisions your Clanmates make for the sake of NightClan!”
A whirlwind of emotions coursed through her, excitement and the rush of adrenaline that came with a good, challenging fight, the knowledge that your blood was spilling to protect your Clanmates, that even if you died, it would be for the greater good of those you cared for. And then an immense pain. She tried to shriek as it felt as if her stomach was being torn open, her insides spilling forth and the only thing that existed in the moment was a great and terrible PAIN, but her mouth would not open, she felt frozen to the spot as she realized she was feeling Sharp-paw’s last moments in NightClan. Her eyes glazed as her vision flickered to black and then she blinked… and Sharp-paw was taking his place at the front of the gathered cats, watching her, as a feeling of peace settled over her, a knowledge that she had given her all for her Clan… and that was enough.
Ravenfeather panted as she recovered from Sharp-paw’s short, but intense life, staring at him with a newfound wisdom. She knew he was scolding her for feeling guilty about his death, about not protecting him. He had only been what… nine, ten moons? She was his mentor… she should have been able to protect him…. But no, he did not need her protection. He was a warrior in his own right, fighting for his Clan, and he chose to give his life for that purpose. As she stared at him, pride welled in her chest for the tom that had once been her apprentice… and her friend. She felt like she could better understand, and come to terms with his death now… now that she knew how he had felt about it himself. He felt no regret, he had made his choice for his Clan and he had stood by that choice to the end, with confident conviction.
Suddenly another cat was blocking her view of her old apprentice. The mottled pelt of Toadfang appeared before her, his gaze warm, just as she always remembered…. She took a nervous step back, wondering if the persistent tom would pursue her love even from StarClan. He dipped his head to gently touch his nose to hers and she found herself frozen in place again, or she would have flinched away, “With this life I give you hope, to stand strong and be the light that leads your Clan through its darkest days. Never give up hope, even when things look their bleakest.”
A warmth filled her belly and spread throughout her limbs, growing in its intensity until it burned inside her like a fire. She would never lose sight of that brighter future for her Clan, she would hang on to that hope and make her Clanmates see it as well when they were ready to give up. She would lead her Clan into that future, make it a reality for those who could not see it. As the fire faded from her limbs, Toadfang was stepping back, “Now I know… why StarClan never answered my prayers. You were meant for this path.” He dipped his head in acceptance of the choices she’d made in her life, including the one in which she refused to be his mate. With that he departed and took his place beside Sharp-paw as another cat presented herself.
She was sleek, pretty, with a pale sandy colored tabby coat and leafy green eyes. She wasn’t that much larger than Ravenfeather and the small black and white she-cat recognized her instantly. “Fernfrond!” The she-cat had been a couple moons older than Ravenfeather when she became an apprentice and had been one of the few friends she had during apprenticehood. The older and likewise rather small she-cat had stood by her through the teasing and bullying and stuck up for her, and had helped Boneshadow to keep her from doing anything too rash to get revenge against the other apprentices. Unfortunately her friend had died during the greencough epidemic of two moons ago.
Fernfrond touched her nose to her old friend’s and spoke gently, “With this life I give you wisdom. Use it well to keep that hot head of yours cool, and to think well before you act.” Ravenfeather tried to open her mouth to ask what she meant by THAT but found her jaw locked shut as a strange sensation flooded over her. She felt as if her body, her mind… her spirit were expanding beyond herself. She felt, ever so lightly, the touch of other minds, the opinions and thoughts and feelings of those beyond herself, and in that moment she came to understand so much more than she ever had, but then the feeling faded and she was back in her body, her own mind. Still, she felt conscious of more than she had been before, even if she could no longer quite recall everything she had just experienced.
Fernfrond purred briefly before turning to pad away and sit beside Toadfang. Ravenfeather took a step after her but a tiny bundle bounded in front of her. She stared down at the white ball of fluff, as fluffy as she had been as a kit, she imagined, and recognition dawned on her. “S… Softkit?” She bent her head to her tiny, deceased sister who then touched her nose with a tiny pink nose of her own, “With this life, I give you acceptance. Some things in life will not go your way, and there will be nothing you can do about it, but that’s okay. So don’t be sad or mad, because good things will happen too!”
It was suddenly hard to breathe. She felt like her lungs were giving out… and then they did! But instead of panic, a deep sense of calm settled over her, and she felt as if she were surrounded by loving individuals who would always take care of her, make sure she was safe. Her gaze narrowed in regret as she looked down at her little sister, Smokefur’s littermate who had died far too early. Her poor little lungs had given out to greencough at only a few moons old. She nuzzled her kitten soft fur gently, “I will try… I will try to remember that.” Softkit purred up at her, rubbed against her front legs affectionately, and then bounced off to play with Sharp-paw’s twitching tail.
The elegant, long-furred gray and white she-cat that stepped forward next made Ravenfeather’s heart lurch. Her mother was not much larger than herself, probably about the same size as Smokefur actually. She had died so very recently it hit Ravenfeather especially hard to see her here now. Her tail lashed once, “You named him Grimkit! What sort of name is that to live with?” She blurted, referring to her tiny brother her mother had died giving birth to. He was so sickly right now…. All the queens were sure he wouldn’t make it to apprenticehood… but they had been so sure of that for her as well, and look at her now. Grimkit would prove them wrong too, it was in his blood.
Palegaze gave her a fond, but sad look, “It is a name I am sure he will bear proudly one day.” She silenced her oldest daughter with a swift flick of the tail before she could speak again, “The name does not make the warrior, Ravenfeather.” With that she stepped forward and pressed her nose against her daughter’s, gazing into her eyes intensely, “With this life I give you patience. Use it well when dealing with your Clanmates, and with the other Clans as well. Take your time and make the right choices for your Clan.”
She felt two opposing forces, pulling her this way and that, and for a moment she fought against it, but then that feeling of peace and calm overcame and she relaxed, and in time the forces subsided. She felt suspended in time… calm, almost sleepy…. She felt like she could wait forever, and if nothing happened, that would be okay. As she came back to reality, she shook her head briefly. What a weird feeling. Her mother brushed her cheek against hers, “I am so proud of you. You and Smokefur both.” With those final words she turned and padded away, her plumed tail brushing against Softkit as she sat beside Sharp-paw and pulled her kit toward her protectively.
The sleek, well muscled black tom that stepped forward next sent a shock through Ravenfeather. The last time she had seen her father, he had been withering away of greencough, and even before the greencough outbreak, he’d barely able to limp to the freshkill pile for some prey due to his injuries from fighting TreeClan. The tom that came toward her now had not even a hint of a limp left in him, no battle scars marred his pelt and his breath was strong and steady with not a hint of the wheeze he had left NightClan with. His step was sure and proud, just as she remembered him from when she as a kit and he the noble deputy she looked up to. “You have come so far,” he murmured as he leaned down to touch noses with his daughter, “With this life, I give you courage to face every hardship that is to come head on. Never flinch. Never balk. Stand strong for you Clan, and they will always stand with you.”
A fearlessness came over her then. She felt like she could stand before all four other Clans and defeat every enemy that came at her; like she could track Demon to his den, pull him out writhing like a kit and slay him, save the Clans from any more deaths by his claws. It shot through her like lightning, in a blaze of glory and pain, and then just as quickly it was gone. Blackbird dipped his head in the slightest to his daughter, a sign of respect, pride in his eyes, for the warrior she had become and the leader she was going to be. And then he turned and joined her Palegaze, pressing close against her and gazing down fondly at Softkit as she rolled on her back in front of their paws.
The shock of Blackbird’s life left her panting and shaking slightly as Darkwing, her former mentor, her father’s littermate, padded up to her. “You have done well with yourself, Ravenfeather,” he spoke lowly, touching his nose to hers, “With this life, I give you endurance. As leader, you will not be able to give up, to break down, when you feel like you can take no more. You must endure all for your Clan and continue to stand strong when it feels like your back will break and your heart will give out… and I know you are up for the challenge.”
An energy filled her, restoring her after her father’s exhilarating but draining life. She felt as if she could run all the way back to camp from the Moon Tree and get to work straight away, hunting for her Clan, checking the borders, and then she could run some more. It lifted her spirit and left her standing just a bit taller, more alert. Darkwing nodded to her, and she nodded back, before he went to sit beside his brother, who rather dwarfed him. Amusement sparkled in her eyes for a moment. Darkwing was like her… a runt, though not quite as small. He had taught her very well how to use her size to her advantage when he had been her mentor.
The warm and comforting scent of many different herbs drifted over her and she looked to see Dapplecloud approaching. Smokefur had such a similar scent now, it was rather nostalgic. The old medicine cat looked young again, her black and silver coat so much like Smokefur’s it was a shock she wasn’t the new medicine cat’s mother rather than her aunt. Apparently healing ran in their blood as well, though Ravenfeather was sure she got none of it. She was a warrior through and through, but Smokefur had always been more sensitive and prone to peace.
“I had hoped I might be the one to lead you here, when it came time for you to be named NightClan’s leader,” she mused as she bent her head to touch her niece’s nose, “With this life I give you faith, in yourself, in your Clan, and in StarClan.” A burning clarity filled her small black and white form and peace settled over her, surety about the future of her Clan settled in her heart. StarClan would always be there to watch over her, to guide her; her Clan would endure throughout time and she could have faith in her Clanmates to do their duty, to carry on, to protect and defend and learn and grow. She blinked up at her aunt as the other she-cat turned to leave and shook her head once more at the strange similarities between her mother’s littermate and her own little sister.
How many lives had she been given so far? She’d lost count. But when the huge, dark tabby tom stepped forward, she somehow knew this would be her last. Stripestar, in all his glory, restored to the young tom he had once been, many many moons ago, before the strange lump grew in his belly, sapping his strength more and more every day. She stood tall as her former leader padded up to her. She would be his equal now, there was no reason not to meet his gaze evenly. “NightClan was everything to me in life. NightClan is still everything to me,” his gaze was intense and Ravenfeather found herself tensing, as if a battle were about to break out as he leaned down to touch his nose with hers, “With this life I give you loyalty to NightClan, always, above all else. Nothing will ever be as important as your Clan.”
A fierce and frightening protectiveness surged through her for every cat in her Clan. Her pelt burned and her heart raged at the very idea of any harm coming to a single member of NightClan. In that moment, more than ever before, she knew she would lay down all nine of her newly given lives for any one of her cats and never regret it. As Stripestar stepped back, she looked up at him, almost challenging. She may have wanted leadership in the beginning only to show her Clan that she deserved their respect, but now that she had it, she knew would spend the rest of her life utterly devoted to doing her best, making the best decisions she could for each and every cat who looked to her for guidance.
Stripestar nodded his approval and spoke once more, "I hail you by your new name, Ravenstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of NightClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity." As he finished, the mass of cats surrounding her took up the call of her new name, “Ravenstar! Ravenstar! Ravenstar!” She swelled with pride and closed her eyes, letting the calls wash over her, savoring the moment. Finally, finally she had done it. She was Ravenstar.
She glanced behind her to see her own escort, Blackwolf, a promising young warrior, Silverpaw padding after him and almost drooling. If Ravenfeather could roll her eyes at the young she-cat she would have. And Roughthroat, a tom similar in age to her. They had been apprentices at the same time, though Ravenfeather’s memories of apprenticehood were rarely pleasant, what with all the teasing about her size and stupid fluffy fur. Most all the apprentices, besides Boneshadow, had teased her at some point… though she could recall that Roughthroat was one of the few who hadn’t… or if he had, he’d at least kept his thoughts to himself or hadn’t said it where she could hear.
Turning back to Smokefur, padding steadily ahead of her, she looked past her sister and realized she was no longer really looking UP at where they were going. Their journey had flattened out a bit and with another turn of her head she could see the valley far below, the great river of RainClan like a sparkling snake from this distance. All the way across the valley lay the dark pines of NightClan’s home and her fur fluffed out slightly at the thought of being so far away from her Clan. At least this was likely to be the last journey to the Moon Tree she would ever need to make. She was happy to leave that unwanted task to Smokefur.
Finally her sister paused and beckoned her forward with her tail. She looked back at her escort again, “Wait here. Feel free to see if you can catch any prey while you wait, but don’t wander far.” Without waiting for a response, she turned back and followed Smokefur into the depths of the cavern, her fur fluffing out at the chill that continued to grow as they descended. Finally they reached the bottom and Smokefur led her up to the great glowing white tree that could only be the Moon Tree. She was instructed to curl up among the roots by her little sister. She took one hesitant step forward before she pushed such weak feelings away. She was about to become leader, she wasn’t about to be scared off by some old tree. As if to prove it to herself, she leapt up onto one of the roots for a moment before picking a spot to settle down in.
She closed her eyes as Smokefur instructed, and waited. Her tail began to twitch impatiently and finally she opened her eyes and sat up, about to confront her sister about why nothing was happening. But Smokefur wasn’t there and neither was the Moon Tree. Instead… it looked like she was sitting at StarClan’s Claws. Turning to look behind her she confirmed her suspicion when she saw the Great Rock from which all the Clans’ leaders announced their news every full moon. Looking back in front of her she leapt to her paws as suddenly rows of cats as far as the eye could see sat before her, their fur glistening as if coated in dew drops shining in the morning sunlight, their eyes bright and unblinking as they gazed upon her small form.
She had of course believed in StarClan all her life, had a certain amount of respect for her warrior ancestors, for the cats who had come before her and passed on their ways and made great journeys to bring them to their home here in the valley. But she had never really thought to imagine what it would be like to meet them. She had aspired to become NightClan’s leader since before she left the nursery, to show everyone that despite her size, she deserved their respect not their scorn. But not once had she thought of what that meeting with StarClan, where she would finally get her name and nine lives, would be like.
She stared wide-eyed, looking about slowly as she tried to recognize familiar faces. If this was really StarClan then the deceased from her past should be among them. Her ears perked as one young cat stepped forward, “Sharp-paw-”
But he cut her off with a predictably rude remark, “Welcome to StarClan, Ravenkit.”
His bright amber eyes sparkled with mirth as her ears flattened and her fur fluffed up indignantly, “I would have asked Stripestar to name you Sharptongue!”
He seemed even more amused by this, but Ravenfeather’s fur was already lying flat once more, though her ears remained pressed to her head in mock annoyance. Her apprentice apparently hadn’t changed since his death. As she looked upon him for a moment longer a guilty look passed over her features but the larger, if much younger tom only snarled angrily when he saw it, “Never look at me like that again!” His tail lashed angrily and he stepped forward, thrusting his nose against his former mentor’s and all but growled, “With this life I give you confidence in yourself, and in your Clan. Never doubt yourself or the decisions your Clanmates make for the sake of NightClan!”
A whirlwind of emotions coursed through her, excitement and the rush of adrenaline that came with a good, challenging fight, the knowledge that your blood was spilling to protect your Clanmates, that even if you died, it would be for the greater good of those you cared for. And then an immense pain. She tried to shriek as it felt as if her stomach was being torn open, her insides spilling forth and the only thing that existed in the moment was a great and terrible PAIN, but her mouth would not open, she felt frozen to the spot as she realized she was feeling Sharp-paw’s last moments in NightClan. Her eyes glazed as her vision flickered to black and then she blinked… and Sharp-paw was taking his place at the front of the gathered cats, watching her, as a feeling of peace settled over her, a knowledge that she had given her all for her Clan… and that was enough.
Ravenfeather panted as she recovered from Sharp-paw’s short, but intense life, staring at him with a newfound wisdom. She knew he was scolding her for feeling guilty about his death, about not protecting him. He had only been what… nine, ten moons? She was his mentor… she should have been able to protect him…. But no, he did not need her protection. He was a warrior in his own right, fighting for his Clan, and he chose to give his life for that purpose. As she stared at him, pride welled in her chest for the tom that had once been her apprentice… and her friend. She felt like she could better understand, and come to terms with his death now… now that she knew how he had felt about it himself. He felt no regret, he had made his choice for his Clan and he had stood by that choice to the end, with confident conviction.
Suddenly another cat was blocking her view of her old apprentice. The mottled pelt of Toadfang appeared before her, his gaze warm, just as she always remembered…. She took a nervous step back, wondering if the persistent tom would pursue her love even from StarClan. He dipped his head to gently touch his nose to hers and she found herself frozen in place again, or she would have flinched away, “With this life I give you hope, to stand strong and be the light that leads your Clan through its darkest days. Never give up hope, even when things look their bleakest.”
A warmth filled her belly and spread throughout her limbs, growing in its intensity until it burned inside her like a fire. She would never lose sight of that brighter future for her Clan, she would hang on to that hope and make her Clanmates see it as well when they were ready to give up. She would lead her Clan into that future, make it a reality for those who could not see it. As the fire faded from her limbs, Toadfang was stepping back, “Now I know… why StarClan never answered my prayers. You were meant for this path.” He dipped his head in acceptance of the choices she’d made in her life, including the one in which she refused to be his mate. With that he departed and took his place beside Sharp-paw as another cat presented herself.
She was sleek, pretty, with a pale sandy colored tabby coat and leafy green eyes. She wasn’t that much larger than Ravenfeather and the small black and white she-cat recognized her instantly. “Fernfrond!” The she-cat had been a couple moons older than Ravenfeather when she became an apprentice and had been one of the few friends she had during apprenticehood. The older and likewise rather small she-cat had stood by her through the teasing and bullying and stuck up for her, and had helped Boneshadow to keep her from doing anything too rash to get revenge against the other apprentices. Unfortunately her friend had died during the greencough epidemic of two moons ago.
Fernfrond touched her nose to her old friend’s and spoke gently, “With this life I give you wisdom. Use it well to keep that hot head of yours cool, and to think well before you act.” Ravenfeather tried to open her mouth to ask what she meant by THAT but found her jaw locked shut as a strange sensation flooded over her. She felt as if her body, her mind… her spirit were expanding beyond herself. She felt, ever so lightly, the touch of other minds, the opinions and thoughts and feelings of those beyond herself, and in that moment she came to understand so much more than she ever had, but then the feeling faded and she was back in her body, her own mind. Still, she felt conscious of more than she had been before, even if she could no longer quite recall everything she had just experienced.
Fernfrond purred briefly before turning to pad away and sit beside Toadfang. Ravenfeather took a step after her but a tiny bundle bounded in front of her. She stared down at the white ball of fluff, as fluffy as she had been as a kit, she imagined, and recognition dawned on her. “S… Softkit?” She bent her head to her tiny, deceased sister who then touched her nose with a tiny pink nose of her own, “With this life, I give you acceptance. Some things in life will not go your way, and there will be nothing you can do about it, but that’s okay. So don’t be sad or mad, because good things will happen too!”
It was suddenly hard to breathe. She felt like her lungs were giving out… and then they did! But instead of panic, a deep sense of calm settled over her, and she felt as if she were surrounded by loving individuals who would always take care of her, make sure she was safe. Her gaze narrowed in regret as she looked down at her little sister, Smokefur’s littermate who had died far too early. Her poor little lungs had given out to greencough at only a few moons old. She nuzzled her kitten soft fur gently, “I will try… I will try to remember that.” Softkit purred up at her, rubbed against her front legs affectionately, and then bounced off to play with Sharp-paw’s twitching tail.
The elegant, long-furred gray and white she-cat that stepped forward next made Ravenfeather’s heart lurch. Her mother was not much larger than herself, probably about the same size as Smokefur actually. She had died so very recently it hit Ravenfeather especially hard to see her here now. Her tail lashed once, “You named him Grimkit! What sort of name is that to live with?” She blurted, referring to her tiny brother her mother had died giving birth to. He was so sickly right now…. All the queens were sure he wouldn’t make it to apprenticehood… but they had been so sure of that for her as well, and look at her now. Grimkit would prove them wrong too, it was in his blood.
Palegaze gave her a fond, but sad look, “It is a name I am sure he will bear proudly one day.” She silenced her oldest daughter with a swift flick of the tail before she could speak again, “The name does not make the warrior, Ravenfeather.” With that she stepped forward and pressed her nose against her daughter’s, gazing into her eyes intensely, “With this life I give you patience. Use it well when dealing with your Clanmates, and with the other Clans as well. Take your time and make the right choices for your Clan.”
She felt two opposing forces, pulling her this way and that, and for a moment she fought against it, but then that feeling of peace and calm overcame and she relaxed, and in time the forces subsided. She felt suspended in time… calm, almost sleepy…. She felt like she could wait forever, and if nothing happened, that would be okay. As she came back to reality, she shook her head briefly. What a weird feeling. Her mother brushed her cheek against hers, “I am so proud of you. You and Smokefur both.” With those final words she turned and padded away, her plumed tail brushing against Softkit as she sat beside Sharp-paw and pulled her kit toward her protectively.
The sleek, well muscled black tom that stepped forward next sent a shock through Ravenfeather. The last time she had seen her father, he had been withering away of greencough, and even before the greencough outbreak, he’d barely able to limp to the freshkill pile for some prey due to his injuries from fighting TreeClan. The tom that came toward her now had not even a hint of a limp left in him, no battle scars marred his pelt and his breath was strong and steady with not a hint of the wheeze he had left NightClan with. His step was sure and proud, just as she remembered him from when she as a kit and he the noble deputy she looked up to. “You have come so far,” he murmured as he leaned down to touch noses with his daughter, “With this life, I give you courage to face every hardship that is to come head on. Never flinch. Never balk. Stand strong for you Clan, and they will always stand with you.”
A fearlessness came over her then. She felt like she could stand before all four other Clans and defeat every enemy that came at her; like she could track Demon to his den, pull him out writhing like a kit and slay him, save the Clans from any more deaths by his claws. It shot through her like lightning, in a blaze of glory and pain, and then just as quickly it was gone. Blackbird dipped his head in the slightest to his daughter, a sign of respect, pride in his eyes, for the warrior she had become and the leader she was going to be. And then he turned and joined her Palegaze, pressing close against her and gazing down fondly at Softkit as she rolled on her back in front of their paws.
The shock of Blackbird’s life left her panting and shaking slightly as Darkwing, her former mentor, her father’s littermate, padded up to her. “You have done well with yourself, Ravenfeather,” he spoke lowly, touching his nose to hers, “With this life, I give you endurance. As leader, you will not be able to give up, to break down, when you feel like you can take no more. You must endure all for your Clan and continue to stand strong when it feels like your back will break and your heart will give out… and I know you are up for the challenge.”
An energy filled her, restoring her after her father’s exhilarating but draining life. She felt as if she could run all the way back to camp from the Moon Tree and get to work straight away, hunting for her Clan, checking the borders, and then she could run some more. It lifted her spirit and left her standing just a bit taller, more alert. Darkwing nodded to her, and she nodded back, before he went to sit beside his brother, who rather dwarfed him. Amusement sparkled in her eyes for a moment. Darkwing was like her… a runt, though not quite as small. He had taught her very well how to use her size to her advantage when he had been her mentor.
The warm and comforting scent of many different herbs drifted over her and she looked to see Dapplecloud approaching. Smokefur had such a similar scent now, it was rather nostalgic. The old medicine cat looked young again, her black and silver coat so much like Smokefur’s it was a shock she wasn’t the new medicine cat’s mother rather than her aunt. Apparently healing ran in their blood as well, though Ravenfeather was sure she got none of it. She was a warrior through and through, but Smokefur had always been more sensitive and prone to peace.
“I had hoped I might be the one to lead you here, when it came time for you to be named NightClan’s leader,” she mused as she bent her head to touch her niece’s nose, “With this life I give you faith, in yourself, in your Clan, and in StarClan.” A burning clarity filled her small black and white form and peace settled over her, surety about the future of her Clan settled in her heart. StarClan would always be there to watch over her, to guide her; her Clan would endure throughout time and she could have faith in her Clanmates to do their duty, to carry on, to protect and defend and learn and grow. She blinked up at her aunt as the other she-cat turned to leave and shook her head once more at the strange similarities between her mother’s littermate and her own little sister.
How many lives had she been given so far? She’d lost count. But when the huge, dark tabby tom stepped forward, she somehow knew this would be her last. Stripestar, in all his glory, restored to the young tom he had once been, many many moons ago, before the strange lump grew in his belly, sapping his strength more and more every day. She stood tall as her former leader padded up to her. She would be his equal now, there was no reason not to meet his gaze evenly. “NightClan was everything to me in life. NightClan is still everything to me,” his gaze was intense and Ravenfeather found herself tensing, as if a battle were about to break out as he leaned down to touch his nose with hers, “With this life I give you loyalty to NightClan, always, above all else. Nothing will ever be as important as your Clan.”
A fierce and frightening protectiveness surged through her for every cat in her Clan. Her pelt burned and her heart raged at the very idea of any harm coming to a single member of NightClan. In that moment, more than ever before, she knew she would lay down all nine of her newly given lives for any one of her cats and never regret it. As Stripestar stepped back, she looked up at him, almost challenging. She may have wanted leadership in the beginning only to show her Clan that she deserved their respect, but now that she had it, she knew would spend the rest of her life utterly devoted to doing her best, making the best decisions she could for each and every cat who looked to her for guidance.
Stripestar nodded his approval and spoke once more, "I hail you by your new name, Ravenstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of NightClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity." As he finished, the mass of cats surrounding her took up the call of her new name, “Ravenstar! Ravenstar! Ravenstar!” She swelled with pride and closed her eyes, letting the calls wash over her, savoring the moment. Finally, finally she had done it. She was Ravenstar.