Lithestar stood before Thistlepaw, a warm look of pride on her muzzle. Thistlepaw shuffled from paw to paw nervously, feeling her fur prickle as dozens of eyes trained on the back of her head.
Lithestar cleared her throat, speaking, "I, Lithestar, leader of Oakclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I pray you accept her as a warrior of full title."
She paused, nodding to Thistlepaw, "Do you, Thistlepaw, accept the warrior code, to honor your clan and to protect your fellow clan cats even at the cost of your own life?"
"I do," came Thistlepaw's response. Her eyes blazed liquid gold and Lithestar knew it to be true.
"Then from this night forth, you will be known as Thistlestorm! May your battle prowess and kind heart bring honor and strength to the clan, and may Starclan bless you with a long life and luck." Lithestar finished her sentence just as the gathering of cats bellow her erupted into cheers.
Lithestar gestured with her tail and Thistlestorm came forward. The leader of Oakclan laid her chin atop the smaller cat's head and in turn, Thistlestorm licked her shoulder.
"Thistlestorm, Thistlestorm!" The cries rang out through the camp. The dusky brown she-cat stood with her head held high, letting their praise wash over her. From the crowd, Poppypaw called the loudest yet. She reared onto her back paws, catching Thistlestorm's eye who gave a sheepish grin in response.
Stonestep and Silverstripe passed through the throngs of cat to greet their daughter. Juniperpaw wasn't far behind, his tail waving a friendly greeting.
Silverstripe nuzzled her daughter fondly, a throaty purr thrumming through her whole body, "Congratulations, my kit. I remember when you were just a new-born. Soon you'll be having kits of your own! Grandkin! I can't believe it-"
"Silverstripe!" Thistlestorm meowed, looking aghast, "I've just been made a warrior! I'm not going to be stuck in the queen's den any time soon." The mere thought of kits- or rather, birthing kits, made her insides squirm. She didn't mind kits but being a mother was not in her stars; she had decided this many moons ago. She quickly changed the subject, "So, Thistlestorm…cool name or THE coolest name?"
Stonestep chuckled, "A fierce name befitting of your prowess," He paused and grinned, "And pretty cool."
Thistlestorm nosed her brother's cheek, "You'll be next! Sparrowfoot is sure to give you your full name soon, right?"
The silver tom-cat shrugged but he didn't look bothered, "In time! Medicine cats usually train longer then warriors. Though, I hope it's before the other 'paws get their full names. I don't wanna be the only 'paw left in camp."
Thistlepaw laughed, "It'll be soon. No cat can doubt you know your stuff." She stretched out, "I'd better get going before Hawkclaw chews me out. I've got to sit vigil."
Silverstripe nodded, ushering Stonestep and Juniperpaw away with her tail, "Let's not distract her from her new duties. Come on dear, it's past bed time…"
Thistlestorm shook her head, watching in amusement as her family disappeared into the crowd once again. Most of the cats had dispersed but a few still stood around chattering. She noticed Poppypaw waiting near the edge of the crowd for her, or so she assumed.
Thistlestorm gestured with her tail for her to follow. Poppypaw started forward, casting a glance over her shoulder to see if any cat had noticed. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so self-conscious, it was only Thistlestorm. Why did it matter if any cat saw? She shook her head firmly, trotting after her friend.
Thistlestorm sat at the entrance to the camp, her tail curled over her paws. A few gnarled bushes reached high above the two she-cats with a path cutting through the center of the tangled foliage. The tunnel itself was shaped by generations of cats milling back and forth.
The brown she-cats ears twitched at Poppypaw's approach and she said, "At least it's a mild night for a vigil, huh?"
Poppypaw nodded, sitting a few inches from her friend. Even with the distance she could still feel the heat from Thistlestorm's pelt, "I hate that you've got to sit out here alone."
"Every warrior does," Thistlestorm mewed, eyes fixed on the gap between the bushes, "Though I wish it were you waiting here with me."
A silence fell over the pair. Poppypaw could hear the distant murmuring of the clan back at the meeting hollow. She let the quiet wash over her, enjoying the company of Thistlestorm and the solitude of the night.
She fought back a purr as Thistlestorm slid closer, their fur touching. The other she-cat's gold eyes met the green of hers briefly as she mumbled, "S'a little cold…"
It wasn't really cold at all, Poppypaw thought, but she was not going to complain. She rested her head against Thistlestorm's shoulder, the other she-cat was at least a head taller than her.
The sky above was strained blood-red but by the time Thistlestorm pulled away it had turned a dusky blue. She gently nudged Poppypaw who looked quizzically at her, "You'd better get to bed. I might be allowed a nap tomorrow, but you won't. Plus, I'm supposed to be doing this alone."
Poppypaw nodded though she loathed leaving Thistlestorm's side. Already she could feel the cool of the breeze against the fur that had been warmed by Thistlestorm's.
"I guess so…It's going to be lonely in the apprentice's den without you. Juniperpaw's been with Sparrowfoot this whole time and Briarpaw…well…" She trailed off, feeling slightly guilty for talking badly of her brother despite their misgivings.
Thistlestorm touched her nose to Poppypaw's, feeling a twinge of sympathy, "Two moons and Rosekit and Tansykit will be in there too!"
Her friend's ears drooped miserably, "In two moons I should be made a warrior, like you." She scrapped the ground with a paw, "If only I hadn't gotten sick."
Thistlestorm nodded, frowning. Last moon, Poppypaw had fallen deathly ill with green-cough. Sparrowfoot had done all she could and the cough had gone within two weeks, but Poppypaw's weakness had lingered for two more. Thistlestorm could still feel her friend's bones beneath her thin pelt as they had sat close.
"I've got a lot of catching up to do, Fawnheart says," Poppypaw mumbled, "But…I guess I should be thankful that I'm not with Starclan just yet."
Thistlestorm's fur prickled, uncomfortable at the thought of losing her closest friend, "I don't want to think about that. I knew you were going to pull through the whole time."
Poppypaw purred, "That's why you were there at my side half the time even when Sparrowfoot threatened to drag you from the medicine den, right?"
"That was for your sake, not mine!" Thistlestorm said, swatting her playfully with her tail, "Maybe a little for mine. Anyway, bed, go."
With a flick of the ear, the ginger she-cat trotted toward her den, throwing one last look over her shoulder but Thistlestorm had already turned back around to face her vigil alone.