Full Blown Rose
Chapter .5
**The story takes place in Summerclan long after the original for have disbanded or been destroyed. Things have changed. Now, when a kit reaches their fifth moon, they are taken to a river called the Trident. There they sleep. The next morning, they will awake with a complete understanding of their rank- Warrior, Medicine Cat, or Guard. A Guard is the lowest of the low, the scum and the crowfood. Or, they will have no change. Those like this will be thrown off the steep waterfall where the Trident ends and into the abyss. Only those who make it past this are given their clan name.
When they came to collect him the misty morning, everything was very different. Periwinkle's wide, blue eyes were still and solemn. He sat there very still, unmoving in the wet patch of grass by the riverbank. It was an ominous mist, in a strange place where no birdsong penetrated and no flowers grew. Periwinkle knelt, speaking not a word to the group of cats.
The leader stopped in front of him. His eyes gleamed, and a smile revealed long, predatory teeth.
"You came here last night as a kit, called Periwinkle." The leader announced in a strong voice. Periwinkle lifted his chin. With a flick of his tail, the leader sent the rest of the cats around him. One bore a skin of leather, charred black. On it was a golden bell that jingled whenever the bearer shifted.
"But you have dreamt, and now you are certain. The River has decided your fate."
The coldness of the leather touched to Periwinkle's sandy scruff.
"You shall now rise as a Guard, defender of the clan. Bear this collar as an ornament of your rank. Let yourself be reminded of the rank all cats shall pity you for." The formal smile drew into a smirk as the leader drew himself high above the new Guard.
"Blossomfell, chain him with the others." The bearer clipped on the collar and attached a long chain. The metal vanished into the tall reeds by the flowing waters. There, the Guard padded without hesitation. His slate blue eyes wavered as the mist disappeared, and suddenly he blinked rapidly as if he had just awoken.
"Where…?" He murmured. He glanced down at the collar in morbid shock and revulsion. It was the highest degree of disgrace for a clan cat to wear that. A small, deep chuckle drew snapped his eyes to a cat, linked his chain.
He was an old cat, and his whiskers were white, his muzzle tinged with age. But the collar he wore, and a Guard he still was.
"We welcome you among the ranks." He whispered hoarsely. Blue eyes glimmered harshly.
"Courtesy ends here."