Bloodflower

Chapter 29

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Cliffrock for a Clan meeting!"

It dawned on Rosepaw that the last time she'd heard Adderstar's summons was the day she became an apprentice. Now she was hearing them on the day she was to be a warrior. Fitting, she thought.

The sun was setting on the day after Pineclaw's death; Rosepaw and Nightpaw's warrior ceremony had been delayed so the Clan could grieve. Rosepaw had slept beside her mentor's body for the entire night, with Nightpaw beside her. He hadn't spoken to her at all, which for once hadn't made her feel annoyed or sad. She was grateful for the silent comfort.

She felt yet another wave of sadness crash over her as she thought of Pineclaw's warm, familiar scent that had wreathed gently around her when she had slept beside his body. It had faded ever-so-slowly as she dozed off, and when she awoke in the morning it was gone altogether. The realization had made her want to toss her head back and wail up at the fading stars. But instead she had stumbled stiffly to her nest and collapsed, falling asleep again in just a few moments.

No more patrols with him, or training, or sharing prey. We'll never be mates, never have kits. We'll never play fight again, or walk through the forest together again. He's really gone.

"Rosepaw." A voice she hadn't expected to hear jolted her out of her depressed thoughts. She glanced up to see Patchflower gazing down at her. Her eyes were gentle. "Come on. It's time for the ceremony."

Silently Rosepaw stood up and leaned against her mother. The pair padded toward the shadows below the Cliffrock, where the rest of the Clan was slowly gathering.

As they walked, Patchflower meowed quietly, "I want you to know that Quickstorm and I have never been prouder of any cat. You have trained and fought so hard, and you've dedicated your life to this Clan. You have stayed so strong, and so brave no matter what you've gone through. You have more than earned your right to a warrior name."

"I'm not brave, Patchflower," Rosepaw rasped. "Or strong. I just pretend to be. But inside I feel like I'm dying."

"And no one can blame you for that," her mother responded softly. "You're so young to have experienced so much. But I believe that it's because StarClan believes that you can handle it. You are special in their eyes, and no matter what, I know that they have a special destiny planned for you. Don't let your grief and sadness turn your paws away from that destiny."

"Thank you." Rosepaw's voice was shaky. "I understand." Silently she told herself, Pineclaw wouldn't want me to keep sulking. He'd want me to become a warrior and keep living my life.

She sighed. Much easier said than done.

Rosepaw brightened a little when she spotted Nightpaw, walking with Ebonypelt, his mother, toward the Cliffrock. A few tail-lengths behind them sat Quickstorm and Juniperfur, the two apprentices' respective fathers. They were talking quietly, casting occasional proud glances at Rosepaw and Nightpaw.

"I'm going to sit with your father," Patchflower meowed. She licked each of Rosepaw's ears lovingly. "I'm so proud of you!"

Rosepaw watched her mother trot away as Nightpaw walked up to her. The black tom looked more excited than she had ever seen before.

"This still doesn't feel real to me," he mewed, gazing around in a joyful daze.

"I can relate," Rosepaw responded quietly. "Just in a different sense."

Nightpaw blinked at her, understanding what she meant. "I get that too. He shouldn't have died this way. He didn't deserve it." He paused for a moment, then added, "There's nothing you can do about it now. All you can do is keep going in honor of him. Be the strong, clever, loyal warrior he trained you to be."