09.30.2019 → There has been some exciting changes on CD lately! We've added a new monarchy to the groups of cats on the islands, as well as restructured the boards a bit to allow for some space - thus, redrawing the map! We've also promoted Nifty to Global Mod! There are some auditions open right now for JungleClan Deputy as well as for all of the new Kingdom of Mokuhau high ranks - Artemis
09.12.2019 → Unfortunately Elaedria is stepping down as administrator due to life being too busy to keep up! The site will be going through some restructuring in high ranks as well due to this. Effective immediately, the word count is now 100 minimum. Some more changes will be coming in the future - members have been emailed a survey to help us figure out what to change and how to get better. Thanks for your patience! - Artemis
WEATHER
Year 55, Scorching Sands 09.05.2019 → The temperatures of the islands are a steady 98° F on land/ high 80s in water. There is almost no breeze, the sun is uncomfortably warm.
Prey during the day is pretty scarce due to the heat, however is quite active after the sun goes down.
Lost in the dense jungles of scattered islands, facing perils unimagined by their ancestors, are three warrior groups - The traditional JungleClan, descendants of the original clans carried aboard a twoleg contraption from their home long ago and breaking new ground on old beliefs. Second, the curious TidalClan, made up of kittypets who chose to abandon their long since passed twoleg civilization ways for those of true felines. Lastly, the mysterious Tribe of Twisted Roots, hidden in the mist from others with their strange ways and a deeper knowledge of the land around them. Together they must learn how to take their fate into their own paws if they wish to survive this land of erupting mountains and roaring waters.
Join our crew and dive into an island-based Warriors roleplay - a twist on the original series by Erin Hunter. We are a semi-literate site with a minimum of 100 words per post.
[attr="class","boxy"] I'm sure how these two would get on together. his confidence would make her not want to approach him, but considering she is a great big ball of sunshine and freaking roses, perhaps that gets on his nerves? I don't think that coral would be above making a snide comment about him in conversation with others as her way of trying to fit in within the clan, and if he caught wind of this, perhaps it causes tension between them? @sovereign,
[attr="class","boxy"] observant and motherly?! coral will want to stick to her like white on rice. since coral desperately seeks the attention of she-cats older than her to feel wanted, I can see her wanting to spend time with turtle outside of just injuries. there may be a bit of tension though if turtle tries to pry into her feelings as she hates talking about anything that matters. thoughts?
coral will definitely be intimidated by him because he is basically everything in a fighter that she isn't. his confidence would make her wildly uncomfortable and probably lead her to make underhanded compliments about his arrogance. I don't@nifty, ever seeing them being friends, but if you're up for it, some hostility between the two of them would probably be pretty interesting.
[attr="class","boxy"] now these two I'm not too sure about. coral may find herself feeling jealous about tang's relationship with her parents, but whether or not she acted on that jealousy, I doubt it. I feel like their personalities would mesh pretty well since they are both pretty happy cats.
[attr="class","boxy"] howdy! so I was looking over taropetal's bio and both her and coralfrost had similar experiences growing up and feeling like an outcast. I can definitely see coral taking an interest in her as she is older, and lord knows coral craves motherly affection. coral will see her as someone who has become a successful warrior despite her aloof nature, and cling to that. now whether a friendship comes from it, or an unhealthy obsession on coral's part, is entirely up to you. I just think they could maybe have an interesting dynamic. Rosa,
--♥ friends coralfrost is not the easiest cat to get to know. she keeps to herself, doesn't like crowds, and would rather get eaten by a predator than to have a serious conversation about anything. she lives in her head, and says things out of the blue that can definitely rub some cats the wrong way. she's never been close with anyone, nor known companionship. any type of relationship may be hard going at first, but if ya tough it out, you may be pleasantly surprised.
--⌧ enemies when you're as closed off as coralfrost is, it can come off as cold to some. while she is optimistic and overly bubbly, she does have a mean streak in her. cats with good relationships with their families are a sore spot for her, and those cats that are really good at everything they do without having to try also leave a sour taste in her mouth. she's not everyone's cup of tea, and there are bound to be those that can't stand to be around her.
--ღ relationships as far as coralfrost knows at this point in time, she has a thing for tom cats. though she has never really given herself the opportunity to entertain the idea of a mate, it might be interesting to see her come into her sexuality, which, is not straight. as she will discover through life experiences, she will find that she is into she-cats. but i'd like her to break a heart or two before she comes to that revelation.
--♥ friends ospreystrike is one of those cats that seemingly makes friends easily, but is always left wondering whether or not they'd be there for him in a crisis. he is not your typical tom who befriends someone with their best interest in mind, he always looks at how they can benefit him and what perks he gets from being their friend. most of his friends he has manipulated, whether with sympathy for his dead dad, or by pulling a certain she-cats name through the mud. he definitely doesn't know what it actually means to be a friend.
--⌧ enemies come one, come all. osprey is aggravatingly condescending, and cool headed, making his condescension even more infuriating. cats that are younger than him will feel the full brunt of his lack of tact, as well as she-cats. every she-cat in the clan is a potential threat to him and if you're friends with a certain geckoclaw, chances are osprey is going to hate you by proxy.
--ღ relationships no one is stupid enough to fall for osprey, right? wrong! there has to be a she-cat out there just damaged enough that his arrogance is appealing. is that you?
--♥ friends fern is a very easy cat to get along with, if you can stand her competitive nature and sometimes childish antics. she has been known to throw tantrums when things don't go her way, and while some may find this endearing, there aren't many. she is a loyal friend until she thinks you're doing better than her. she is fairly fickle, but a good friend nonetheless.
--⌧ enemies fern is a very open cat, and says things that aren't always appropriate. for the more prude like cats, this will probably be a sore spot but it won't stop her. she is also unable to accept fault when she does something wrong. she doesn't like other clans, and you are immediately on her shit list. she doesn't trust herself not to stray from jungleclan so she keeps herself as much in check as possible among other clans cat should she come in contact with them.
--ღ relationships fern's sexuality is undecided; she isn't sure whether she is attracted to toms or she-cats, or both, or neither. i'm open to any kind of relationship plots should you have any in mind.
--♥ friends caddispaw is an old soul, never having had the chance to be a kit. he approaches things logically, and doesn't really get young humour. i can see him having friends that are older than him, and straying away from those that are his own age.
--⌧ enemies caddispaw takes any transgressions against his siblings seriously, and he isn't one to let things go. he also has an aversion to she-cats, since his mother instilled in him from a young age that she-cats can't be trusted.
Description sentence: burly tuxedo tom with orange eyes
Appearance: nothing about the toms’ appearance suggests weakness. with wide shoulders through to his hips, he can be quite intimidating to look upon. the toms large frame makes hunting difficult for him, but he figures he makes up for it in brute strength, which at times he isn’t afraid to throw around. his legs are long, making him a rather tall cat, and his paws are large, and dangerous. finishing off his body is his head; wide though the crown and narrowing out through his muzzle, the tom has a mouthful of sharp yellowing teeth.
covering his body is a blanket of long silky smooth, shiny black and white fur that he keeps meticulously clean. his back is all black, and it snakes down along his belly fur and to the tips of his shoulders where it cuts away abruptly to white, save for a spot on his chest that runs along the underside of his chin and over his lower jaw. his eyes are surrounded by a black mask, that runs along the edges of his nose, and meets at his brow. the tom has a black splotch on his right upper lip, and nose. amber eyes finish off his appearance, highlighted by his white whiskers.
Negative Traits: • condescending • vain • manipulative
Personality: everything that the tom does is done in a very specific way. he organizes his nest so that it provides ample comfort, he picks the juiciest prey he can find and hunts so that there is never any failure, and if there is, it is never his fault. his life is carefully planned out, from the time he wakes up, when he makes dirt, what patrols he volunteers for, what he eats and what time he goes to bed. these little idiosyncrasies may seem odd to some, but he attributes these things to his undeniable success as a warrior. this also leaves little room for questions, and if there are, he always has an answer. it may not seem like a big deal to some, but growing up in a family where his every action was questioned, it makes perfect sense to him, and keeps from getting blindsided by off hand questions.
the tom learned early on in his life that getting angry would only lead to trouble. after more than once of getting whooped over the head by the strong paw of his father, ospreystrike learned to keep his anger under wraps, and to take deep, calming breaths should there ever be adversity that may spark his temper. this has left him with an uncanny ability to keep a cool head when things get heated, particularly in gatherings when everyone may be at each other's throats over a stolen piece of prey, or a border skirmish. in his eyes, anger is a weakness that can be exploited, and ospreystrike refuses to be seen as weak by his clanmates, or other clans.
ospreystrike takes great pride in his duties as a warrior. the success of the clan rests on every single members shoulders, and he knows that he must do his fair share to ensure that the clan continues to thrive. while some may find border patrols boring, he knows that they are necessary, and extremely important as a way of showing dominance over tidalclan, and pride in jungleclans’ territory. he never once complained about helping the elders out when he was an apprentice, and to this day, will take time out of his warrior duties to make sure they are looked after, even if he is dead on his feet from patrols during the day. he hopes that he can show toucanstar that he is ready for an apprentice, and will continue to go above and beyond to prove he is worthy of training the next generation of warriors.
with great pride comes great condescension. ospreystrike believes he is basically the greatest warrior to ever grace jungleclan, and he isn’t afraid to talk down to those warriors that may not work as hard as him, or aren’t as skilled as him. apprentices may get the full brunt of this as tough love is his idea of teaching. since he was an above average apprentice, he believes that all apprentices should be great from the get go. he is definitely not afraid to say this to them, even if it will break their spirit.he has little regard for others triumphs, only focusing on their shortcomings while staying wonderfully ignorant to his own. he doesn’t believe in dwelling on part failures, and most of the time, outright refuses to acknowledge when he has failed at something.
picked up from his mother at a young age, ospreystrike takes great care of his black and white pelt, and always makes sure it is meticulously groomed. this is not only time consuming, and at times a waste, he enjoys looking good, and clean going so far as to looking at himself in streams that he may happen past. his vanity goes beyond just looking good however - he believes that because he takes such good care of his fur, all the she-cats and tom cats should be fawning over him. he also isn’t above making snide comments about other cats in the clan that maybe aren’t so keen on keeping their fur perfect at every possible second. first and foremost, his appearance comes first, and everything else can wait; even if it means that he is late for scheduled patrols.
ospreystrike has very few friends, and those he does have, he has manipulated into being so. he is skilled in the art of pity, and getting others to do things for him, or see him in a certain way. he has played the pity card numerous times to get she-cats to feel sorry for him so that they spend time with him, and when they don’t show an interest in him, he can turn it around on them and make them out to be the bad guy. apprentices are incredibly easy to manipulate he has found, and this discovery has found him getting better pieces of prey, and softer bedding than others.
Skills & Combat
Strengths: • problem solving • swimming • teamwork
Weaknesses: • climbing • hunting • following directions
History: terncall and reednose were an odd pair. your mother was a loud, boisterous she-cat who wanted nothing more than to be noticed by everyone. her black and white pelt shimmered in the sunlight, and her voice was as smooth as honey. only those who were blind and dead wouldn’t take notice of her, and those that did, wanted to be with her. she was a fierce fighter, and well loved within the clan, despite the trail of broken hearts she shamelessly left in her wake. she’d toy with this tom, and that tom, never committing, never saying yes to kits, always biding her time with whatever suitor gave her the most attention at the present moment. there were whispers about her, as there always is in a clan, but no one dared say anything to her, lest they meet her wrath. few saw the true nature of your mother, her temper kept under wraps, and her desperate desire to be loved by someone truly and deeply is what eventually led her into the cold, manipulative arms of reednose.
cold-hearted and cruel, your father held no love in his heart for your mother, nor the kits he would bare with her. the tom had had dreams of fathering kits in tidalclan as well, to spread his seed so to speak, and to ensure that his legacy would live on long after he was dead, but no one from tidalclan ever caught his eye as much as terncall. he was able to see right through her happy exterior, and like a knight on a silver steed, swooped in and worked his magic. he wooed her with fresh prey, walks through the undergrowth at dusk to watch the sunset, and assisted with grooming her pelt just the way she liked it. it wasn’t long after that terncall realized that she was truly, and deeply in love with the tom, despite the warnings her friends had given her. she insisted that he was compassionate and loving, and would be the perfect mate. soon after, terncall was pregnant.
your mother was ecstatic about her pregnancy. she boasted to everyone she could about the strong kits she would bare, and the loving parents they would have. reednose on the other hand, wasn’t as thrilled as he thought he would be. terncall being pregnant meant that he would have to see it through to the end, and even though terncall was convinced he loved her, he didn’t. he grew to resent the she-cat and her constant need for love and affirmation from him, and thus, resented the kits that she grew in her belly. they would be a constant reminder of how he played himself into staying with a she-cat he didn’t love, and if they turned out weak, he didn’t think he’d be able to bear it. but your father was ruthless, and shortly before you and your siblings were born, he lost his temper on your mother, and declared his hatred for her, and cut off their relationship.
your mother was heartbroken. she was to be left with the kits as reednose had made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with them. her friends offered her comfort, all the while refraining from saying ‘i told you so’.
despite your fathers’ previous insistence that he wanted nothing to do with his kits, he found himself at your mother's side when she gave birth. he licked her forehead as the medicine cat helped her bring forth her kits, and though he felt no kinship with the kits, he knew he wanted to have some influence on their lives and the warriors that they would grow up to be. your mother hoped that your father would see this as a sign that he should stay with her, but she had heard the rumours that he was mated with another she-cat already and her hope dissipated as quickly as the pain of birth did. three kits were born to your mother that day. your father agreed to not have any say in the names of the kits, so your mother, following her own naming after birds, dubbed your sister heronkit, your brother pigeonkit, and you, ospreykit.
---
you’re a lively kit, open to the world around you, amazed by the warriors that strut through the camp with a purpose, and you (like many other kits) anxiously await the day when you get to be a warrior of jungleclan. heronkit and pigeonkit sit beside you at the mouth of the nursery watching the flurry of activity that goes on, day in and day out, and amuse yourself with stories of your make-believe accomplishments. your mother watches with pride, but there is a sadness in your eyes that you are too young to notice, too young to understand.
your father has taken a keen interest in you. you see nothing wrong with this, but feel bad that your littermates don’t get the same attention, but your father insists that this is just the way things happen sometimes. you don’t argue with him, what’s the point? your view of your father is untainted by your mother's anger towards him, she keeps it to herself, realizing the importance of one's relationship with their father, but she still feels skeptical about it. she worries that you are going to grow into being the same cat as him, and she doesn’t think that she could love you if that happened. your young age leaves you blissfully unaware of your mothers worries, and you look forward to each day after sunhigh when your father comes to see you. it’s the best part of your day - after play fighting with your siblings of course - and you know that afterwards, you will curl up in the nest with your mother while she grooms your long, tuxedo pelt. she coos over your pelt, so much like hers, and emphasizes the importance of keeping it clean.
you’re four moons old when your father disappoints you for the first time. you find yourself sitting at the entrance to the nursery as you have every day for as long as you can remember, watching the entrance for your father to enter. the sun is high in the sky, and the longer you wait, the lower the sun gets, until you’re shivering from the chilly twilight air, and anger. you’ve never known such a feeling, all consuming, and you snap on your mother when she comes to herd you to the nest. you refuse to see the apology in her eyes, and you stomp towards the nest and begin to angrily groom yourself. pigeonkit approaches you and you strike out at her, a hiss leaving your maw, and you’re met with a sharp smack over your ears and look up at your father, the disappointment evident in his face.
“where were you?” your voice is shrill as you spit at him, tears misting your eyes, and he smiles coyly.
“i was busy, ospreykit. my warriors duties come before even you.” with this comment, he looks away from you at your mother and cocks an eyebrow. “surely your mother would’ve told you how time consuming being a warrior is.” he gives you a lick on the top of your head, and you pout, refusing to meet his eyes anymore, though you watch him leave with a slight tilt of your head. “then again, your mother never really did her warrior duties properly, did she?” confusion brings your gaze up to him, but you realize that he isn’t talking to you, a smirk on his broad, proud face, his eyes on your mother who shoots daggers at him. realization dawns on you, and you feel sick to your stomach. your mother doesn’t want him here, and a spark of anger towards her ignites. you are too young to understand the intricacies of your parents strained relationship, but you begin to formulate your own opinion from watching them interact. your mother always seems to be angry with him, speaking in harsh whispers when she thinks you and your siblings are out of ear shot, and your father seems so . . . calm. you don’t see what your mother sees. all you see is a strong capable warrior that never loses his cool, and works hard for the clan. you want to be him when you grow up; nothing like your mother who you have decided is weak.
---
your mentor is a spritely young she-cat by the name of orchardbreeze. she’s pretty, you admit to yourself, but she is small, and a little too whimsical for your taste. she doesn’t seem to take much seriously, and would rather blabber on about this and that than actually teach you anything. you don’t like her. you wanted a warrior like your father, and are jealous of his apprentice, who seems to be scores about you in skill. that’s not to say you are without, you just want to be the best of them all, even if your mentor doesn’t seem to know what she is doing.
you, like your father, excel in battle training. you’re quick, smart on your paws, and have a keen eye for what your opponent is going to do. your mentor comments on your ability, mentioning your father, and lingering at the end of her sentence before sending you flying across the training ground. you’re shaken, and more than a little embarrassed that you let her blind side you. you stagger to your paws, angry now, and yowl as you launch yourself at her, hitting her in the side and sending her sprawling. you roll with her, and bounce back onto your paws, triumphant. you feel powerful having overcome your mentor only a moon into your training, yet somehow still find yourself on your back with her standing over you.
“never underestimate your opponent.” she says coyly, before slipping away, leaving you confused in the dirt.
you don’t know when it happened, but you’ve grown distant from your littermates. you have no idea how pigeonpaw and heronpaw are doing with their training, whether they like their mentors, or what their prominent skills are. you feel exceptionally lonely now that your father is also busy with his apprentice, and you haven’t talked to your mother since she moved back to the warriors den. you think about sharing your prey with her for a moment, then decide your siblings are more important. with a smile plastered on your face, you trot over to them and they smile sheepishly at you. the meal is awkward, you trying to make small talk, them hardly answering and you leave more confused than ever. when did you become an outcast in your own family?
---
your world falls apart one evening in leaf-bare, and you regretfully look back on that day for the rest of your moons. if you hadn’t gone to make dirt, you wouldn’t have seen your father's frame slipping out of camp, following a small she-cat. you wouldn’t have seen them rendezvousing just beyond the camp, far enough to not be seen or heard, but close enough that they could make it back without raising too much suspicion. you watch from behind a snowdrift, your small frame shivering against the stiff breeze, and your heart breaks. your father is grooming your mentor, and you can just hear their purrs over the sound of the wind. you try to understand what you are seeing. your father is supposed to be in love with your mother, they are mated, not him and your mentor. you realize that you have never seen your father and mother act like that before. you watch for several long minutes before you can’t take it anymore and rush out from behind your advantage point.
“dad! what are you doing? that’s not mom!” your teeth chatter the entire time, but you barely notice. the look of shock on orchardbreezes’ face, and the cold smirk on your fathers’ is all you can focus on at the moment. she looks from you to your father then back at you and then down to her paws. your father on the other hand, rises from his seated position and struts towards you, looming and proud and chuckles. “oh, ospreypaw. you should really learn your place, and keep your nose out of other cats’ business” with this, he picks you up by the scruff of your neck, more dragging, than carrying you back to camp and strides right by the guards at the entrance and drops you in the middle of the camp. he whisks away out without so much as a look back, and you trudge back to the apprentice den and crawl into your sisters nest. she stirs, blinks at you sleepily, then begins to groom you until you fall asleep.
early the next morning, you go and see your mother. she’s still asleep in her nest, her tail flicked over her nose, and you can hear her deep breathing. nerves abound in your stomach, making you nauseous, but you press on and push your way into her nest. she shuffles with a coo, and smiles down at you warmly.
“what a pleasant way to wake up.” she gives your head a lick, then asks if you want to go for a walk. she must’ve noticed the look on your face, hurt and bewildered and you agree, though you’re still exhausted from your spying the night before. she tips her head to her clanmates, save for your father and mentor who watches you with pity in her eyes. you hate her. “mom, why was father with orchardbreeze?” your mother looks over her shoulder at you, and shrugs her shoulders. “they’ve been mates for around thirteen moons now, my sweet. well before you and your siblings came into this world.” you stop in your tracks dumbfounded. “you haven’t noticed, have you? no, i guess you wouldn’t’ve. you always did see the best in him.” she pauses, and waits for you to find your feet and catch up, and once she does, she drapes her tail over your pelt and sighs heavily. “your father never truly cared for you, ospreypaw. though he is exceedingly good at pretending. he turned you against me when you were still a kit.” stopping abruptly, she leans down and looks you dead in the eye, her own pleading. “please be a better tom than him.” you nod, and she licks your forehead before you two head back to camp. you have training afterall.
it’s surprisingly easy to act like nothing happened. orchardbreeze is skeptical around you, careful of what she says, and focuses only on training. you continue to excel at your battle training, and your hunting is coming along nicely. you’ve gotten closer to your sister during this time, your mentor requesting some pair training without your knowledge. the two of you have discussed your father's shortcomings at length, and it seems that you are the only one that was ignorant to his philandering. the two of you laugh at your expense and you decide you want to be nothing like your father. if you ever have a mate, and kits, you will stay true to them, until the day you die.
a few days before your assessment, your mentor leads you to a secluded part of the territory and tells you to sit, while she paces for what feels like forever. you can tell that there is something that she wants to say, but you patiently wait, taking in your surroundings until she finally takes a deep breath and approaches you. she lowers her haunches to the ground, and wraps her tail around her paws and doesn’t meet your eye.
“i just want to say that i am sorry ospreypaw for what i did to your parents. it was my fault that your father decided he didn’t want to be your mothers mate anymore.” her voice is small, and you almost believe her. mousebrain.
“it’s ok, orchardbreeze. love is fleeting, and the heart wants what the heart wants. it’s not your fault you broke up my family, and broke my mothers’ heart. don’t blame yourself for pursuing a taken warrior. how could you know that he would abandon his family?” you are seething, but you keep calm, a smile on your face. her face falls with pity, then brightens when she takes in your words.
“you’re right. your father is the one who is to blame.” she thanks you swiftly before taking off. a smirk crosses your face, not unlike your fathers and you take your sweet time getting back to the camp. you wonder if there is going to be a scene, if orchardbreeze is the kind of cat to publicly humiliate another. you rather hope so. it would be sweet divine justice to see your father called out for his infidelity, inability to commit, and lack of compassion for the cat that mothered his children. a coy smile plays upon your features as you approach the camp, voices raised.
you stand on the edges of the camp, watching your father and his lover go at it. you groom yourself, clearing the debris from your long, silky black and white pelt and revel in the pain you have caused. your father yells something about her being a mouse brain, she fires back with him being a two timing tom, and it takes everything in your power not to laugh. your mother sits just outside the warriors den, watching in horror as your father flies off the handle, screaming near incoherent insults at the cat he claimed he loved too much to abandon. you meet your mother's gaze, and hers darkens at your smile.
---
you can’t help but be pleased with your warrior name. ospreystrike. it sounds powerful, and it reverberates inside of you. you think your mother fears you now. she’s cautious in your presence, careful of what she says, and her eyes narrow at some of the words that come from your mouth. your siblings have drifted away once more, but you’ve decided you don’t mind. success and glory is a lonely path, and you don’t mind walking it alone if it means you’ll get everything you want and more.
the object of your desire is a she-cat of unrivaled beauty. unfortunately for you, you aren’t the only one that has taken an interest in her. one of the other toms, a mere three moons older than you has been trying to woo her into being his mate. you watch with jealousy as she giggles at his words, her eyes never leaving his, and you realize that you need a plan of action if you’re going to get her to be yours. you decide to go to your father for advice. he may be a useless waste of space, but if there is one thing he knows, it’s how to get a she-cat to pay attention to you.
the two of you wander out into the territory, the air thick with tension. your father always suspected that you were the one to put such toxic ideas in the head of orchardbreeze, who is now officially mated with a different tom, and expecting kits. you let nothing slip though, saying that you were just as shocked as everyone else when she made such a proclamation in the middle of the camp. he doesn’t believe you at first, but you are adamant, and with a few carefully thought out reassurances, your father believes you. it’s becoming easier to get what you want, make others believe what you want them to, and to get away with it. it’s almost sad how gullible your clanmates are.
your father suggests taking her on a hunt. he says that most she-cats enjoy watching their potential mate succeed at their warrior duties. you’re disappointed in his suggestion, but nod anyways. there’s another idea that has invaded your mind, one that could potentially lead to severe consequences if you were ever found out, but you can’t seem to shake it. you’ve found that pity works wonders with she-cats. now, you just need a reason for someone to pity you into humouring your desires.
you and your father find yourselves at the top of the silverthread falls. he’s babbling on about something to do with orchardbreeze, how lonely he is, and how he regrets leaving your mother. it’s in that moment that you realize just how deep your hatred for your father goes. he isn’t strong like you thought he was, an average warrior at best. it’s almost laughable, his pain and loneliness, but really it’s just plain sad. you watch him approach the edge of the cliff, still rambling about his deepest darkest regrets, and next thing you know, you’re standing where he was and his body is lost in the torrent of the water. you cock your head to the side, and wait until his body surfaces at the bottom, wait until you know for sure that he is dead. you smile.
“help! someone get anispine! something happened to reednose!” you play the distraught son well, tearing back through the territory to where your father has now washed up on shore. you stare at his body, broken, an obvious indent in his skull. the horror of what you did overcomes you, but everyone figures it is merely grief. you and the medicine cat carry his body back to camp, where your siblings meet you. the three of you sit vigil with your father that night before he is buried and sent to starclan. terncall makes an appearance for a moment, giving him a solitary lick on the forehead before she returns to the warriors den.
---
“come hunt with me, ospreystrike.” your attention is pulled from your thoughts, and you look to see where the voice is coming from. your heart leaps at the sight of geckoclaw, the gorgeous she-cat that has had your attention for awhile. you stride over to her, and head butt her shoulder before the two of you leave for the territory. the hunt goes well, and the two of you find yourselves in a secluded area, the sun warming your pelts.
“it’s been hard dealing with the death of reednose. i know it was a couple moons ago, but still. it’s weird not seeing him around camp.” you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve used this line. so far, it gets you the response you’re looking for. geckoclaw licks your cheek, and smiles sadly. “his death was tragic. it’s strange though,” she starts, looking away from you and into the distance. “he was always so sure of himself. it doesn’t make sense that he would slip and fall off the cliff.” she eyes you from the corner of her orange orbs, suspicion evident. you sigh heavily and look down at his paws.
“i know. i couldn’t believe it. one minute he was there, telling me how proud he was of me, and the things i have accomplished since becoming a warrior, and the next thing i knew, he was gone.” you snifle for good measure and look up at her, with sorrow in your eyes. “starclan can be cruel sometimes.” you lean towards her for comfort, but she pulls away.
“drop the act, ospreystrike. you hated your father. everyone knows it.” her accusatory tone catches you off guard, and anger flares in your eyes.
“how can you say that? i loved him. he was my father for starclans sake. i didn’t agree to come hunt with you so that you could interrogate me on a very sensitive subject, geckoclaw.” you sniff, and stand up, moving away from her. “you shouldn’t play with people's emotions. it only causes pain. look at what orchardbreeze did to my father. he was strong, and capable before she broke his heart.” you curl your lip at her, and begin to walk away. “you she-cats are all the same. using toms for your own benefit before dropping them like they’re nothing. shame on you, geckoclaw.” you spit at her before heading back to camp.
you keep to yourself mostly, after your tiff with geckoclaw. you’re worried that others may believe the same things she does, so when you get the chance, you do damage control. and by damage control, you drag geckoclaw’s name through the mud, lying about what she does, that she isn’t right in the head. you’re rather convincing in your tales of her, and hope that most will believe what you have to say. it’s rather enjoyable watching your clanmates avoid her, shake off her comments, and all around call her a liar to her face. you sit back and watch carnage unfold, such as you did that day so many moons ago. you’ve learned to control those around you, and the rewards are sweet.
bathing the earth in stark light, the moon crested the trees that occupied most of the land, and fell gently upon the field where a lone cat roamed. insects chirped and hummed their songs, island birds chattered away to the darkening sky while the rest of tidalclan slept. silence would follow where she walked, frightening the insects for moments before they realized she was no threat to them. this was, in her bold opinion, the best time of day. with no one else around to disturb her, she could wander as she saw fit, without someone making a comment, or trying to tell her what to do. there really was nothing more annoying than those select cats that thought they were better than everyone else just because they took the warrior code way too seriously.
a low sweeping creature brought the dark pelted warrior back to senses, making her heart pound painfully against her chest, and she let out a nervous giggle. she'd been a full warrior for just over four moons now, yet she still found herself amazed and sometimes sheepish while out in the territory by herself. no one that knew her thought she was intimidating, and if they did, well, she probably just freaked them out. it had taken her almost all of her sixteen moons alive to come to the conclusion that she was better off on her own and to not worry about what others may think of her. she saw what vanity, and self-consciousness did to a cat, and it definitely wasn't her cup of tea.
slowing her paws down to a near standstill, coralfrost lifted her face towards the sky and closed her green eyes. her lungs expanded as she drew in a deep breath, and on her exhale, she felt all the woes of the day releasing from her thin body. gosh, I'm tired. the thought was fleeting and intrusive and she screwed up her face in response. she was always tired no matter how many hours of sleep she got a night, that is if her mind shut off long enough to grant her sleep. that's how she came to adopt her near nightly ritual of wandering through the field. it was easier when the weather was calm as it was tonight. the slight breeze carried the scents of her home right to her, and she knew that if she looked hard enough, she would be able to find the perfect flower to add to her collection.
a light smile danced upon her maw for a moment before she bounded off, disappearing into the tall grass, not a care in the world about how loud she may be, or what kind of attention she might draw to herself. all she wanted to do was pick some flowers.
Description sentence: lithe black tortoiseshell with dull green eyes
Appearance: there’s nothing particularly unusual or different about the she-cats tortoiseshell pelt. predominantly black, her orange, browns and random splotches of white stand out starkly against it. the most noticeable colour distinctions are on her narrow face, and along her sides. with spots of white along the left side of her nose, and the underside of her chin, the she-cat has somewhat of a permanently surprised look to her, which is only enhanced by her seemingly larger than normal eyes. due to her lithe frame and narrow head, her dull green eyes appear bigger than they should be, and with black lining them, they only stand out more against her cornucopia of colours.
coralfrost was always smaller than her litter mates, being the last one born and quite sickly. some may mistake her for a fledgling - albeit an old one - due to her skinny frame, and flighty nature. the she-cat's spine is visible, along with her ribs, despite her insatiable appetite. the fighter eats more than enough, but her obsessive need to be in constant motion keeps her looking on the verge of collapse.
Personality
Positive Traits: • loyal • optimist • observant
Negative Traits: • airhead • eccentric • petty
Personality: perhaps the most important aspect of the she-cats personality is the fact that she cannot sit still. she has a thing about pacing, and always seems to be on edge, as if she is ready for a fight at any given time, despite the fact that she is far from a skilled fighter. the she-cat likes to keep herself moving, never sitting or standing in the same spot for too long before moving onto the next, and this has attributed to what can be described as ‘flighty’ or even whimsical if you want to be optimistic.
there could be storms for moons, or droughts, or any other catastrophic event going on, and coralfrost will be able to find the silver lining in it. not much gets her down, nor does she let petty little things stop her from being nauseatingly optimistic about things that would normally ruin another's day. she knows that the sun will always rise again, and that the clans will come out the other side stronger than ever simply because there isn’t any other option that she is willing to entertain.
now, don’t start thinking “oh no, she’s one of those.” the she-cat has a lot of repressed emotions, and covers them up with positive emotions because no one wants to deal with intrusive thoughts and sadness. the she-cat watched her mother go through the motions of grief and she vowed to herself that she would never let herself sink that low, or let others know what she is truly feeling. she’s basically a ticking time bomb.
coralfrost doesn’t really like serious conversations, and can get quite awkward around super serious cats who take life way too seriously. she knows that no one gets out alive, and sitting around blabbing about things such as “starvation” or “disease” don’t interest her. this has caused her to be called an airhead more than once, since she will simply smile at you and change the subject to something completely irrelevant and way out of left field.
she is definitely more of a bystander than a go getter. she’d rather sit idly by in the background than to actively engage with others around her. this gives her an opportunity to notice things that others may not, but whether or not she says anything about it, varies from day to day. perhaps someone said something about her behind her back and she caught wind of it, the she-cat has no qualms about staying painfully silent. just know that there is something coming the future; maybe she brings you a sodden piece of prey, or makes a snide comment about you to your face with a smile plastered on hers. to say she can be petty would be an understatement.
the she-cat has some . . . quarks that most of the time don’t go unnoticed. she always turns in her nest three times counterclockwise before laying down with her back towards the entrance to the den. she enjoys chasing butterflies whenever she gets the chance, and she has a thing for vibrantly coloured flowers, and will pick them to line her nest with. she can say some weird things as well, sometimes she thinks before she says them, and other times they pop out and surprise her just as much as others around her.
Skills & Combat
Strengths: • tracking • agility • reflexes
Weaknesses: • fighting • strategics • teamwork
Combat: • Defense: 10 • Attack: 1d20+(2)
Character Background
Family: none that she believes are relevant.
History: you were born shortly after sundown on a chilly soothing skies day. . .
your mother was not the nicest cat around. with a sharp tongue and a temper shorter than a summer storm, you learned tough love at a young age. you also learned disrespect, jealousy and cynicism. you weren’t like your other littermates (you hardly think of them now). they all took after your absentee father, strong, agile and big-headed. they took your mothers’ love and ran with it, leaving you with merely scraps of affection that hardly ever went past getting a few suckles in here and there when your voice rose above the others. in her eyes, you would come to find out, you were a dark reminder of her sister. small, fragile, and always sickly. your mother despised her sister. and thus, despised you and everything that you reminded her of.
at first you did everything in your minimal power to get her attention. you craved the affection and love that you saw her give your siblings, but try as you might, your mother wouldn’t waiver. you learned to entertain yourself, taught yourself how to comfort your aching heart, and to enjoy the little things in life that would brighten your day if even for a moment. your siblings would taunt you for your imagination, the way that you would blurt out whatever was on your mind without thinking of the implications or consequences, and they never failed to remind you of your shortcomings. they would sit just far enough away from you that you felt excluded, but spoke loud enough that there was no way you didn’t hear what they were saying.
“there’s no way coralkit is going to become a fighter. look at her.” they’d start a chorus of insults such as these, with smug glances over their shoulders as you traced lines in the dirt of the nursery, your mind swimming with darkness. “she’s so pathetic. i’ll be shocked if tinystar even gives her a mentor. she’ll just embarrass the clan.” by this point, tears block your vision, but you remain unmoving, determined not to let them see you cry. she’d become a warrior, and show them all up. even if it killed her. “pay attention coralpaw! you’re not going to learn anything chasing butterflies!”
it’s far harder being a fledgling than you ever thought possible. your attention span is short, and your need to be constantly moving makes it difficult to concentrate. a full moon into your training and you can already tell that you’re causing your mentor great deals of stress. he’s a very serious cat, strictly adherent to the warrior code, and has zero patience for you and your shenanigans. you’re almost convinced he doesn’t know how to say anything else other than “pay attention”; you hear it numerous times a session and even though you try to pay attention, it’s just so, so, boring. you’re not made to fight, you know this, and every other cat in the clan knows it as well, but your stubborn mentor is determined to make something of you. you figure it’s in your best interest to humour him.
your siblings are exceptional, as you figured they would be. your brother has a great head for combat, and your sister can hunt like no ones business. you really just want to chase butterflies and watch the sunset, and dream of a time when you didn’t hate waking up everyday.
it is observed early on that you aren’t one for group work. group tactics while fighting intimidate you, and group hunting is just a waste of time. you’re quite light on your paws, and your sharp observation skills make it easy to hunt, though you aren’t as good as your sister. she still manages to outdo you nine times out of ten. you don’t want to envy her, but you do. she has an air of confidence about her that makes you shrink back into your shadow, and let all your negative thoughts build like wildfire. you’ve felt resentment, and it isn’t sweet. she is your sister after all, you should love her, not resent her for being better than you and not even having to try. but you do, oh boy, do you. her and her mentor click in a way that makes it seem like they are of one mind, working seamlessly together. maybe you imagine it, but you have a feeling your mentor resents you, just as much as you do your sister.
there was little adversity in your time as an apprentice. you’ve become more reclusive around certain cats, opting to hang out in your own head than listen to the gossip that most seem to revel in. there is no need for it, really. half the time they don’t even notice you’re around. no one keeps tabs on you, or even seems to care about you. you go about your days in a ritual. wake up, make dirt, go to training, eat, sleep and repeat. it’s comforting knowing day to day exactly what is going to happen. everyday moved you closer to when you would become a fighter and be out from under the iron grip of your no nonsense mentor. serious conversations make you wildly uncomfortable, and that’s all he seems to want to talk about. when was the last time the two of you joked around? you have no idea, and it gets under your skin. a laugh every now and then would be a nice change.
your assessment goes rather smoothly. you mess up on your initial hunt, but redeem yourself shortly after thanks to your quick reflexes and tracking abilities. there are some benefits to being as little as you, but the list is very minimal. you’re surprised when you are the first one done your assessment, and wait patiently for your siblings to finish theirs as well. you sister returns shortly after you, tail high, and prancing like she owns the ground she walks on. now you both sit and wait for your brother. you shoot daggers at your sister as she sits prim and proper, a slight purr of pride rumbling from her chest.
you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s taking far too long.
your mother is a mess. an inconsolable, wailing mess over the corpse of your brother. you weren’t told what happened, at least not in detail. there had been an accident, a miscalculated error that wound up costing your brother his life. was it a fall? a predator? no one will give you the information you ask for it, but does it really matter? at this point, the entire clan is trying to comfort your mother and sister. your heart is heavy, he was your brother after all, but there are no tears, no signs of emotions, as you turn and walk away from the sounds of grief. it turns your stomach. is that what love got you? maybe you are better off not knowing it.
feeling sad makes you comfortable. it’s a thorn in your side, making it hard to breathe, and function. it takes a while but soon you’re able to push it to the back of your brain and move on. yes, the death of your brother was tragic, but life goes on. you speak more frequently now, though some don’t always know what you’re going on about, and perhaps you worry them a bit. you’ve changed since your brother met his fate, but not in the way that many would expect.
you decide to go and see your mother who has barely left her nest since the passing of her son. her usually meticulously groomed pelt is disheveled, and her eyes are dull. your sister lays beside her whenever she’s not doing her duties and you’ve managed to catch your mother by herself. there is no other cats in the den, and you walk in, nervousness fluttering in your belly. you’ve never been truly alone with your mother, and unsurprisingly, she scares you.
“mother?” your voice sounds small, even to you, and she lifts her head to look at you, and her stare goes blank. she doesn’t want to see you. you know in that moment, that she wishes it was you buried beneath the soil. “can i get you anything?” you ask, staring down at your paws. she shorts, and curls her lip.
“you can get the hell out of my face, coralpaw.” her snarl bites through your heart, making the tear a hole, and sending it into your stomach. you nod your head, biting back your tears and turn to leave. “you never should’ve been born. you’re just like my sister. only she got what she deserved when she drowned, maybe one day you’ll meet the same fate. the gods know tidalclan would be better for it.” tears burning your eyes and a lump lodged in your throat, you leave the den without a look back and decide then and there that she is no mother to you. she had always been mean to you, but she had never been cruel. you can’t help but think that you understand why your father never claimed his kits.
“coralfrost! coralfrost! coralfrost!”
the chant sounds hollow. it didn’t sound like that when the other one was given her name. perhaps you’re reading too much into it, perhaps not. you’re not hated within the clan, but you’re not necessarily liked either. you’re the weird one, the one that sits back and observes, the one who manages to slip away whenever the conversation turns serious. the one that has a freaking nest lined with flowers. you don’t mind that they think you’re weird. it keeps their expectations low, which is fine by you. you became a fighter, and that’s all you set out to do.
i beat you, brother. i became a fighter, and you didn’t.