Sunlight filtered down into the center of camp. The warm, inviting scents of the forest were carried on a gentle breeze through the brambles protecting the hollow. Yarrowpaw's claws flitted in and out of the soft earth beneath her paws, and she searched eagerly for the familiar silver coat of her mentor, Greywhisker.
"Got you!" came a voice from behind her. Yarrowpaw hissed in surprise as a giant ball of fur bowled her over. She swatted with sheathed claws at her attacker, a brown tabby tom with big white paws. "You're gonna suffocate me under all this fur! Get off me!" Gasped Yarrowpaw, struggling under the apprentice's grasp. "Admit I beat you." The tom hissed playfully as Yarrowpaw swatted his muzzle.
"Mousebrains! You should be preparing for your final assessment, not disturbing the whole camp with your play fighting!"
The two apprentices untangled themselves immediately, turning to find a stern looking Greywhisker. "Honestly," the she-cat sighed, "any cat would think you two are just overgrown kits with the way you act. I hope you know this assessment won't be a stroll through Fourtrees."
Yarrowpaw gave her chest an embarrassed lick and made a mental note to claw Bearpaw's ears off after their naming ceremony. "Yes, Greywhisker. I'm sorry, but I promise to make you proud."
Greywhisker's gaze softened, pride in her apprentice overshadowing her previous frustration. Bearpaw nodded in agreement with Yarrowpaw. "Leapfoot should be back from making dirt in a moment, when she returns, we'll start your assessments." Greywhisker stated.
The two apprentices sat close to the camp entrance, their tails trembling with anxiety and excitement. I'm going to be a warrior! Yarrowpaw couldn't get the thought out of her head. Her mind drifted back to her kithood, playing warriors and leaders with her littermate. Even though there were only two of them, Yarrowpaw was always happy to just play the role of warrior. Now here she was, moments away from finding out if she was ready.
Leapfoot's paw steps shook her back to reality. "Are you two ready?" asked the she-cat. The two young cats nodded, too excited to speak. "Since there are only two of you, this will be a joint assessment. Your hunt will start as a team, and after catching two pieces of prey together you will go separate ways. Meet at the Fallen Oak at sun high. Remember, we will be watching."
Bearpaw and Yarrowpaw exchanged a determined glance. This was their chance.
"Go." Greywhisker directed.
The two apprentices shot out of the camp entrance and into the dense forest. Once a decent distance from camp, the two paused to scent the air. Mouse! She realized Bearpaw must have scented it as well, as he flicked his ear in the direction of gentle nibbling in the undergrowth. Yarrowpaw padded silently around the shrub the mouse was foraging under, careful not to disturb it. Bearpaw lined himself up between Yarrowpaw and the only direction the mouse could escape from. Yarrowpaw could feel the blood rushing in her ears, and almost worried the mouse could hear it. She swatted at the shrub, sending the mouse shrieking directly into Bearpaw's claws. He finished it off with a swift bite to the neck, and both apprentices thanked their ancestors as they buried their first kill of the day.
Yarrowpaw's paws ached, and a sharp pain shot up her leg as the result of a twisted claw. But nevertheless, she was happy. The young cat struggled with her catch on the way to the Fallen Oak- a thrush, a robin, and one of her own mice. The tantalizing scent of fresh prey danced on her taste buds, but she knew that this prey would be eaten by her cynn, a feeling she enjoyed much more than that of a full belly. When she arrived at the old oak, her brother and Leapfoot were already waiting. The siblings shared excited glances as the mentors looked over their catches. The two older she-cats turned to face the apprentices, and Leapfoot spoke first. "We are proud of both of you, this was a very successful hunt." At that, Greywhisker took Leapfoot's place. "Once we return to camp, we will speak with Fernstar about your naming ceremony."
"Yes!" Bearpaw purred happily. Yarrowpaw felt as though her fur were made of lightning, like she could protect any kit or hunt any prey. "Now let's get this prey back to camp" Her mentor chuckled. Each cat took three pieces of prey, and Yarrowpaw felt as light as a feather as she thought of her contribution powering the cynn.
"What a great hunt!" remarked Beetlespots upon their return. Yarrowpaw could feel her pelt getting hot. "Th-thank you," she stammered. The pretty patchy tabby she-cat was the only cynn Gazer. Beetlespots nodded and padded away to the nursery, leaving Yarrowpaw to deal with her feelings alone.
The clearing was speckled with small groups of cats sharing tongues. The Tellers were sprawled out near the pool of water by the leader's den, which was supplied by a gently trickling stream nearby. The senior cats purred lazily in the warm afternoon sun. Yarrowpaw dropped the thrush she caught at Rosepuddle's paws. The pale yellow she-cat licked her jaws in anticipation. "Thank you Yarrowpaw, I see your assessment went well." She purred.
Yarrowpaw was never much for taking compliments, and she pawed at the ground sheepishly as she received compliments from the other Tellers. As a kit, one of her favorite pastimes was listening to the Tellers tell their stories of being a warrior. The victories, the losses, everything that encompassed being a dedicated member of Whispering Brook. The Tellers watched after Yarrowpaw and Bearpaw most days, as it was clear that their mother, Palebriar, wanted little to do with them. The pretty dusty brown she-cat was a hard working warrior, and she felt motherhood stood in the way of being a good cynnmate. Typically if a queen didn't want to spend time in the nursery, her mate would, but Palebriar never acknowledged a mate, and no one ever stepped forward.
Yarrowpaw often watched her mother from a distance. How can we be so close by blood, yet so far away? She thought, watching her mom paw through the fresh-kill pile. Yarrowpaw purred with satisfaction as Palebriar picked up the robin that she had caught that morning. Yarrowpaw wondered for a moment if this was a sign that her mother approved of her becoming a warrior.
"You know she doesn't care about us, right?" grumbled Bearpaw, curling his tail around his paws neatly. "You don't know that!" Yarrowpaw hissed, but deep down she knew he was probably right. There was a part of her that wanted Palebriar to see that she could be just as good of a warrior, that she wasn't the burden she was to the cynn as a tiny kit.
Bearpaw flicked his ear, annoyed. "Kits aren't a burden. They're a gift to the cynn. They're what keeps a cynn going. If she thinks she's so great, she would know that. We just need to be the best warriors for ourselves, not for some she-cat who didn't even stay in the nursery with us." The young tom stood up to stretch, and put his tail on his sister's shoulder.
"I know it's hard, but we have each other. And we have the rest of Whispering Brook. They are our family. That matters more than anything." At that, Bearpaw padded away.
Yarrowpaw wanted to collapse. She knew she should be excited to become a warrior, but the feeling of happiness was fleeting. She had never considered what would happen if her mother really didn't care. For moons Yarrowpaw had worked diligently to be the best apprentice she could, in hopes that her mother would be proud. But now, here she stood, awaiting her naming ceremony without so much as a glance from Palebriar.
It was all for Palebriar, she realized, and a heavy lump grew in her throat. If Palebriar truly didn't care, what was the point? Becoming a warrior had been Yarrowpaw's plan to gain her mother's approval for moons, and without it, what was her purpose?
As the moon came into view, Bearpaw and Yarrowpaw sat together outside of the Apprentices' den. Yarrowpaw gave a hollow purr as her brother tried his best to comb her fur. "You look like you just slept for all 6 moons of our apprenticeship!" He remarked through a mouthful of fur. "Who cares? It won't matter after this anyways." Yarrowpaw muttered ruefully.
"Ow! Why in the stars would you bite me?" Hissed Yarrowpaw, swatting at her brother. "You're acting like a piece of prey. If you want to act like prey, I'll treat you like prey. Don't just run away from your problems or give up. We're going to be warriors after this, act like it."
Yarrowpaw rolled her eyes and began grooming her pale yellow pelt, wondering to herself when her stupid furball brother decided to get so wise. She knew he was right, but she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her nest and wake up moons from now.
"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, please join below the Great Boulder for a cynn meeting." Called Fernstar from atop the mossy rock formation.
Soon, the clearing was flooded with cats. Yarrowpaw couldn't bring herself to acknowledge them, the thought of not seeing Palebriar there to support them shattered her heart.
"Yarrowpaw, Bearpaw, please step forward." Fernstar directed.
The two apprentices padded forward and hushed murmurs of approval fluttered through the crowd.
"The two apprentices who stand before me have completed their sixth moon of training, as well as their final assessment. Leapfoot, is Bearpaw ready to uphold the warrior code and protect Whispering Brook with his life?"
Leapfoot nodded. "Bearpaw is an excellent fighter, and will be an asset to Whispering Brook as a warrior."
"Excellent," Fernstar continued, "Greywhisker, is Yarrowpaw ready to uphold the warrior code and protect Whispering Brook with her life?"
"Yarrowpaw has been the hardest working apprentice I have ever trained. She will be a noble warrior." Greywhisker confirmed.
"Then by the power given to me by our warrior ancestors, I ask The Great Pool to look down on these apprentices before me. They have worked hard to follow and learn the ways of the warrior code, and I commend them to you as a warrior. Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect your cynn, even at the cost of your life?" Fernstar asked the apprentices.
The young cats nodded, harmoniously responding "I do."
"Bearpaw, from this moment forward, you shall be known as Bearstrike. The Great Pool honors your strength and your loyalty, and we welcome you as a full member of Whispering Brook". Yarrowpaw purred as she caught her brother's eye, his gaze shone as bright as the stars in the sky.
"Yarrowpaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Yarrowbreeze. The Great Pool honors your cunning and your determination, and we welcome you as a full member of Whispering Brook."
"Yarrowbreeze! Bearstrike! Yarrowbreeze! Bearstrike" the surrounding cats cheered, and Yarrowbreeze felt as though she might go deaf after hearing her cynn shout their approval.
The two siblings looked at each other and blinked
slowly. They were finally warriors.
Yarrowbreeze sounds so strong. She thought to herself, and she wondered whether she would ever live up to her name.
"My name is so cool !" Whispered Bearstrike, loudly. The two were sitting vigil as the rest of the camp slept, an ancient tradition that went back for generations. Yarrowbreeze laughed, but she agreed. It suited her brother, a strong dusty brown tabby with huge white paws. She'd never want to be on the receiving end of that claw full.
The two sat in silence, taking in the sound of the forest around them. The two brooks that babbled gently through the territory whispered in the distance, and cicadas screamed their desperate song. To Yarrowbreeze, it was perfect.
And yet, Yarrowbreeze still felt hollow. She wondered if Palebriar was at her naming ceremony, and tried to pick the sound of her voice from her memory of the meeting. She shook her head, dizzy from trying to root out a single voice among the cynn.
As the sun rose gently in the pale orange sky, birds began to chirp, causing Yarrowbreeze's stomach to growl loudly. "You'll scare off all the prey in the forest before we can even get out of camp to catch it!" Came the teasing voice of Whispering Brook's deputy, Larkbelly. Larkbelly was a well respected senior warrior of Whispering Brook, who lost part of her sight in a fierce battle against Wandering Marsh. Despite her injury, she grew to become a brutish fighter, which contrasted greatly with her light and playful demeanor.
"Your vigil is over now, young warriors. You may grab something from the fresh-kill pile and head to your new den, if you'd like." Fernstar directed.
The siblings nodded and, with a luxurious stretch, padded towards the fresh-kill pile. Yarrowbreeze picked out a vole from the night before, and padded over to the Warriors' den where cats were just starting to wake up for the dawn patrol.
After eating her vole, Yarrowbreeze felt as though she might collapse in a heap and not wake up for at least a moon.
Yarrowbreeze stiffened at the sight of Palebriar's sleeping form towards the far side of the den. I wonder if the other warriors avoid her because of what she did... Yarrowbreeze padded away, toward the other Warriors den across camp.
Whispering Brook faced a brutal attack by a band of rogues moons ago, and after their loss it was decided that there should be two Warriors' dens; one near the camp entrance, and one near the end of the camp. The second den was a bit smaller, but was protected better by a dense locust bush thicket around the back perimeter wall. Warriors often had to nip growing thorns from the shrub and push softer material like cattail fluff into the crevices for insulation.
She carried her heavy legs into a nest toward the front of the den, careful not to step on any tails or paws that flopped lazily out of their respective nests. These are so much more comfortable than the nests in the apprentice den. Yarrowbreeze listened to the sound of gentle snoring all around her, and watched the rise and fall of different pelts like waves against a shoreline. This is my home. This is my family. She thought to herself, drifting into a heavy, heavy sleep.