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Dawali will have called out for this. It is optional if you want to play as if your character attended. Only Nayati will reply to this thread, as it is more of an announcement ceremony than one everyone will participate in. Also because we already have two pack threads open - oops! 
With pride in his heart, Dawali came prepared. He wore the traditional gown, an elaborate leather jacket and wristlets, and had adorned his mane with additional feathers for the occasion. He had it been summer or spring, they would have met in the open, but the cold crept closer and it became less comfortable staying outside, winter pelt or none. He had called them to the Town Hall, where they had found himself and Nayati. He had waited until there were some faces to watch them, before turning so that he faced both Nayati and the other tribesmembers.
It felt strange to conduct this ceremony; strange, and very, very powerful. He was glad to see his friend rise to such a distinguished position, and to be the first among them to formally do so. The Chief smiled. "Nayati has proven, at length, a valuable addition to our Tribe. He has served us many times, and led many successful hunts both on his own and as part of a team." The russet male turned to direct his words more clearly at his friend, no, his suprerior now in many ways. Dawali could never dream to be the hunter that his friend was. He held in his hands a flat stone with dyes, and a soft stick that would serve him as a brush. "Nayati Utina, you have deserved the mark of the Master Hunter." He spoke ceremoniously, and with great presicion the trained hands of this medic outlined the antlers of a great buck, spreading symmetrically across Nayati's chest. It glowed icy blue on his light fur; a symbol of his rank, one that he would carry as long as he lived. Not only this, but it was a symbol of his tribe's faith in him, that he stood out among them in his skill and experience, and carried the Chief's blessing. It was an old custom that Dawali had witnessed only thrice, four times, now, and it was a true honor to be the one to conduct it. Perhaps he felt it even stronger, as the male who stood in front of him could easily have been his son, through his friendship with the Amara's daughter.
Quickly, the Chief bent down and plucked a long item out of the satchel that rested towards his feet. It looked like an old spear, carefully crafted and painted in cold hues of blue. It bore symbols and patterns and pieces of cloth, and was clearly old, older than the Chief. "This is your weapon. Care for it well." Of course, it was not for use in real hunts, but like the Master Healer's skin-coat, it - too - would forever be a symbol of his rank. "Wakan Tankan Nici Un - May the Great Spirit Walk with You," the Chief said solemnly, before handing it over, palms up. It had passed among the Master Hunters for many, many years, and the spear was sacred. Dawali had no doubts in his heart that Nayati would honor it.