Here you are. New chappie, Crowfeather's POV. (Finally, I was getting a little bored with writing Brambleclaw.) Thanks very much to my two pre-readers, Dewflower and Ravenpelt. You guys are AWESOME. And now...
Crowfeather was holding guard when Webfoot, Briarpelt, and Nightcloud slipped into camp as the sun rose behind them. Sniffing the air, Crowfeather realized that they had all given themsevles very thorough washes, very recent. The new deputy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Where were you?"
"Early patrol," snorted Webfoot. "Around the ThunderClan border."
Without waiting for Crowfeather's reply, he padded away. Nightcloud sprang after them and the two vanished into the warriors' den, meowing urgently. Briarpelt followed more slowly, and Crowfeather was both surprised and gratified by the respectful nod he gave him.
Most of the Clan had seemed to accept Onestar's choice in naming him deptuy. No one was as surprised as the gray-black tom had been himself. Crowfeather knew that cats like Webfoot and Nightcloud would doubt his loyalty because of Feathertail and the journey to the sun-drown-place, and because they thought him too young. The new deputy knew that he had a ways to go before he would be as respected as cats like Graystripe or Ashfoot had been.
But I'll do it, he promised himself, the loyalty and ambition that he had always had, since his days as an apprentice, flaring inside him. I'll be the best warrior that WindClan has ever seen.
His claws dug into the ground from the strength of his promise, and he looked back towards the camp. He had a feeling that Webfoot hadn't been quite truthful with his explanation of an early patrol. But where else could they have gone?
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Leading his patrol through the moors, Crowfeather found himself enjoying the fresh, windy day. The breeze ruffled his fur and the sky was dotted with puffy clouds that shielded the cats from the hot sun.
Briarpelt followed behind him, his apprentice Owlpaw by his side. Nettleclaw brought up the rear, the muscles flexing beneath his smooth black pelt as he loped across the hills.
As they neared the RiverClan border, Crowfeather paused for a moment to look back. Briarpelt and Owlpaw were sniffing at an old foxhole, and Nettleclaw was just crouching down, signaling wildly to Crowfeather. The deputy lifted his head and caught rabbit on the breeze.
A moment later his keen eyes caught the telltale flash of movement in the heather. The rabbit jerked its head up, long ears raised, and stamped the ground in warning. But the WindClan cats were already upon it. Nettleclaw and Crowfeather raced forward, faster than any other cat in any other Clan. With a mighty leap Crowfeather grasped the rabbit from behind and pulled it towards him, snapping it's neck with a swift bite.
"Nice catch!" Nettleclaw purred. He caught Crowfeather's eye. "It's good to hunt with you again," he commented.
"Yeah," Crowfeather meowed. "Like being apprentices again."
"We would have been made warriors together," Nettleclaw continued, "If you hadn't-"
"Hadn't gone to the sun-drown place?" Crowfeather finished. "But how could I not have gone?"
Nettleclaw's bright blue eyes blinked at him. "How come you didn't tell me?" he meowed at last. "I would have gone with you, you know, like Squirrelflight went with Brambleclaw. We could have been heroes together."
Crowfeather pawed at the rabbit, and he found that his whiskers were twitching. "Trust me, Nettleclaw," he meowed. "I wouldn't wish that journey on any cat."
"That's not the point," Nettleclaw mewed. "You kept it from me. And you're still keeping things from me. Why don't you ever tell any cat what you're thinking, Crowfeather?"
Crowfeather lifted his eyes to meet his friend's. "Because no other cat understands." Except Leafpool, he added silently. He could tell the gentle medicine cat anything.
Nettleclaw looked almost angry for a moment, and then understanding flared in his eyes, as if he knew that he could not get Crowfeather to explain. Reaching over, he gave the gray-black cat a couple of quick licks. "All right, you furball," he meowed. "You're the deputy. And no cat doubts that you'll be a great one, you know. Especially not me."
Crowfeather touched his tail to his old friend's shoulder. "Thanks, Nettleclaw. That means a lot."
At that moment Owlpaw lifted his head from the foxhole. "The scent's stale," he announced confidently. "About three days old, I'd say. And the fox went..." He pointed with his tail- "that way."
"Good." Briarpelt seemed pleased. "Well done, Owlpaw."
"Yes," agreed Crowfeather. He looked at the apprentice thoughtfully. He was still young- when the WindClan cats had been starving on the old moors, Tallstar had been forced to apprentice him early. As the strongest of Nightcloud's kits, he would have the best chance as an apprentice, and not having to care for him gave Nightcloud herself more strength to keep her other kits alive. But despite that he had grown into a strong cat, and the journey to their new home had given him new strength.
Maybe it's time he was made a warrior, thought Crowfeather, and as they set off for home, Nettleclaw carrying the rabbit, he caught up with Briarpelt. "Do you think Owlpaw's ready for his ceremony?"
Briarpelt turned his amber eyes on him excitedly. "Really? Do you think so? Great!"
"So you think he's ready?"
Briarpelt looked thoughtful. "I've taught him everything I know," he meowed. "And all that we've been through..."
"It gives him more experience than some warriors ever get," Crowfeather meowed. "Okay. If you want I'll speak to Onestar about it when we get back."
&&&
"Owlpaw a warrior?" Onestar repeated Crowfeather's request as the leader and deputy sat together at the edge of the clearing. "Yes. I think you're right. Thanks for telling me, Crowfeather. We'll hold the ceremony at once."
He padded out onto the stump, just as the stars appeared. Cats stopped on their way to the fresh-kill pile and instead turned to the gathering place. Owlpaw came with Briarpelt; the young tom's faintly curious expression told Crowfeather that he hadn't yet been warned about what was coming.
"WindClan warriors, apprentices, elders, and queens," announced Onestar, (AN: Yes, I tweaked this ceremony a bit, too.) "We are here today to honor an apprentice that has clearly shown himself worthy on holding the name of warrior, and knows the code of our anscestors as well as any cat can."
He looked down at the crowd. "Owlpaw, come forward."
The shock on the apprentice's face slowly turned to delight as he bounded forward, his large yellow eyes gleaming. Onestar stepped down from the stump to meet him. "I, Onestar, leader of WindClan, call upon my warrior anscestors to look down upon this apprentice. Throughout his training he has pledged himself to live by the code you have set down for us, and now I ask you to honor him for that by knowing him as a full warrior."
He paused, and the ancient words rang round the rise that was WindClan's home. "Owlpaw, do you swear to live by the warrior code StarClan has left for us, to pledge yourself to WindClan and to the good of the forest?"
Owlpaw's tail raised high with pride. "Yes, I do."
"Then, by the authority StarClan has granted to me, I give you your warrior name. Owlpaw, from this moment on you shall be known as Owlclaw. StarClan honors the loyalty and strength you bring to WindClan, as from now on we will know you as a warrior." Onestar rested his muzzle on Owlclaw's head, and he licked his shoulder before bounding over to the warriors.
"Owlclaw! Owlclaw!" The welcoming chorus rose as the cats gathered round to greet him as a full warrior. Crowfeather hung back to say his own few words to Owlclaw once the crowd had cleared, and he ended up beside Webfoot. He could see that the other warrior was fighting back anger and sorrow as he remembered Weaselpaw, and the pride for his apprentice that he would never feel.
"I'm sorry," he meowed quietly. "Weaselpaw deserved to be here, too."
"He did," snapped Webfoot, turning away. "But he isn't."
The way that he turned his back reminded Crowfeather of the morning when he had done the same thing, and it was only then that the young deputy remembered his earlier musings that Webfoot might be hiding something.
Yes, he is. Well done, Crowfeather. Anyway, reviews are appriciated!
