flowerbite

thistleclan

small tortoiseshell she cat with yellow eyes

Flowerbite can easily be described as your typical ThistleClan cat. She is small, short furred, and dark in colour. She has that rugged-dangerous aura that she wears like a crown. Unlike most of her clanmates, Flowerbite isn't as unobtrusive as they are. For such a small cat, she tends to exude a big presence. Her sass, confidence, and arrogance makes her seem larger-than-life. 

Simply put, Flowerbite is a StarClan-blessed small and compact cat. She is built for slipping through shadows without notice. Being the descendant of two great ThitleClan lines, she has inherited the perfect slim physique her clan is known for.

Flowerbite is a tortoiseshell she cat. Her fur is a black base colour, indistinguishable from the shadows that fill ThistleClan territory. Her fur is streaked with bright orange intermittently with no discernible pattern. The flecks of orange burn through her dark pelt like fireflies on a dark night. As for Flowerbite's pelt itself, it's short with no instances of fluff anywhere. The texture of her fur is sleek and smooth with the only bit of roughness being her scars. 

Flowerbite already shows signs of a tough warrior life. She has four claw marks right across her cheek - from a battle with a Redwood cat. On her back, right between her hunches is a long scar that travels towards her ribs. The front of her chest has a bite mark and several claw marks along her front legs. 

Head strong and stubborn, Flowerbite isn't one to follow the rules of others, and puts value in laws of her own creation. She finds difficulty in accepting the ideas of others and struggles to see things from another's perspective. Empathy has always been one of her weak points. Flowerbite is a very apathetic cat. She tends to be constantly unfeeling and caustic in manner, with bouts of extreme rage. While not purposefully cruel, Flowerbite just feels that the grievances of others are inconsequential in the long run. She is merciless and has no pity for those in need. She is willing to lie, cheat, steal, and backstab Starclan themselves if it puts her in a better place.

Despite all this, Flowerbite is not a sadistic character. She takes no pleasure in the pain of others but does see the worst in everyone. She always assumes the worst of everyone and has a general hatred towards all cats. Flowerbite feels that all other cats are beneath her and because of her bloodline, she is naturally superior to all of them. She craves power, her sole motivation in life is to be the best there ever was and will stop at nothing to achieve her goals. 

Family;
Mother - Mirepool 
Father - Crownight
Siblings - Softkit, Butterflyberry, Bunnyheart
Surrogate mother - Daisythorn
Foster siblings - Yewsting, Firfur, Birchbrook, Cedarstep, Oakflame, Sycamorefang



Flowerkit was not born out of love. Her litter was a carefully calculated union of two strong ThistleClan bloodlines.

Her mother, Mirepool, was a descendant of Dayshine the Sentinel. A famous she cat that guarded the camp with such diligence her body turned to stone. Her stone could still be seen standing at the entrance to ThistleClan camp to this very day. Mirepool herself was an excellent warrior, most famous for her excellent eyesight that is said to be able to spot a beetle at thirty tail-lengths. 

Her father was Crownight the hero from the Battle of the Bear. He single-handedly lured a bear off ThistleClan territory into Redwood territory. Also well known for being the sole male heir to the Line of Kings, a bloodline of cats who all had leaders or deputies in each generation.

Crownight and Mirepool's bloodlines had not met until this moment - which was reason enough for ThistleClan to push the two into mating. Genetic diversity in ThistleClan was poor and the results had started to show in some recent kits. Birth defects, sickness, stillbirths were all on the rise with the new generation of ThistleClan. Crownight and Mirepool were a new hope for the whole clan.

The affair was professional and apathetic. The two cats parted ways quickly and Mirepool did not see hide nor hair of Crownight until the birth. He hovered outside of the nursery for three hours while his not-mate gave birth to his four kits. Right off the bat, the kits were a good omen. All of them were born breathing and yowling from the moment they entered the world. While they were born minutes apart, none of them were born a runt. They were all average size and perfectly healthy. First was Softkit, then Butterflykit, Bunnykit, and finally Flowerkit. Crownight kind of grimaced at the name but he inspected them along with the medicine cat. Deeming them able-bodied, he nodded his head and left. 

Maybe if he stayed a little longer he would have witnessed Mirepool's response. She looked down at the little beans suckling from her chest and she felt nothing for them. Her stomach curdled with disgust. She got up from her nest, her legs a little weak from giving birth, and looked to the medicine cat. "I'm done, right?" She asked. The medicine cat nodded dumbly, assuming she meant "done giving birth". Mirepool stepped away from her kits and sat by the entrance of the nursery and started to clean herself. 

Flowerkit, missing her mothers warmth and milk, tried to waddle towards her. The Queen hissed at the kit, batting at her with her claws unsheathed. The medicine cat quickly got between Mirepool and the kits - who were howling with distress at this point. "What are you doing?!" The medicine cat asked. Mirepool just shrugged and turned her nose up at her kits. 

"I'm done with them. I did my duty to my clan. Now they aren't my problem." She explained shortly. She got to her paws, turned her back on her kits, and walked back towards the warrior den. Leaving her kits abandoned. 

A surrogate Queen was found for the kits, but the damage was done. The kits were essentially orphans. Daisythorn was the only Queen in the nursery at the time, her kits were almost ready to be apprentices and she agreed to nurse the kits. She was diligent in feeding the kits, but other than that, spent little time with them. Flowerkit was the first of her siblings to really catch on to what was happening. 

From watching the other cats in the clan, Flowerkit figured out her family was not normal. She didn't have a parents or real kin of any kind. Her foster mother, Daisythorn, had a huge litter of kits: Yewkit, Firkit, Birchkit, Cedarkit, Oakkit, and Sycamorekit. She was by their side constantly and they were often in the presence of Daisythorn's mate.

Why didn't anyone care for Flowerkit like that? 

From Daisythorn's stories, Flowerkit learned that the elders of the clan were the wisest of them all. She was quick to conclude that they probably had the answers to her ancestry. Cunning little Flowerkit orchestrated a fight between Yewkit and Oakkit, loud enough to catch the whole nursery's attention. While they were distracted, she slipped out of the nursery. She wasted no time tracking down the elder's den on the edge of camp. 

It didn't take much to get the elders talking. They told her of Dayshine, long forgotten Leaders - her legacy. She listened with a growing sense of importance as the elders showered her with blessings of her bloodline. Later that night, she returned to the nursery a new cat. A cat who hailed from a lineage of rulers and was obviously destined for great things. 

Flowerkit never told her siblings about their pedigree. She guarded it from them jealously and with a sense of entitlement. She was the one who would rise about this meager beginning, she was the one who would rule the clan one day, she was the one who was destined for great things. They were just a bunch of chess piece - side characters to her grand story. 

Caught up in her own delusions, Flowerkit ignored the world around her. She care not for her siblings, her foster family, or even the rest of the clan. She was too focused on her self-fulfilling prophecy. 

So when the badgers invaded, she was completely taken by surprise. They lumbered into the camp in early morning without warning. They were attracted to the burrows of ThistleClan camp and the vulnerable members left behind by the patrols.

Flowerkit was woken by the screaming of her siblings as a badger shoved its muzzle into their den. And Flowerkit - fated to be the greatest cat the clans had ever seen - froze. She could only stare in horror as the gnashing teeth closed in on her and her siblings. 

It lunged forward blindly and wrapped its teeth around Softkit. With a swift snap it crunched her between its great maw. Flowerkit felt her sister's warm blood splash across her face as she was eaten right in front of her.

Just as the badger closed in on the kits again, they were saved. Three of their foster siblings, newly made apprentices, burst in on the scene with war cries. They fearlessly threw themselves at the badger. Firpaw went for its eyes, while Sycamorepaw and Yewpaw put themselves between the badger and the kits. Flowerkit watched with awe as the three toms worked together to force the badger out of the den and back into the open camp. 

Yewpaw turned briefly and made eye contact with her. He assessed her for a moment before giving her a cocky grin - as if to taunt her. Then he followed after his brothers. Flowerkit felt humiliated and flustered in equal measure. 

The badgers were driven out of camp after a long battle. Several elders, two warriors, and one kit were lost. Softkit was that kit. Flowerkit stood huddle with her littermates as they held a vigil for their lost sister. Bunnykit helped Flowerkit clean the blood off her face and Butterflykit burrowed himself into her fur to stifle his sobs. Flowerkit just stared at the small stone that was used to represent her sister with a thoughtful expression. 

After that, her siblings changed. Butterflykit drew within himself, jumping at shadows and loud noises. He had nightmares and often woke himself with his screaming. It got so bad that Bunnykit petitioned the leader to allow them to sleep outside of the den. Irritated with the kit's screams, the leader quickly agreed. 

Bunnykit seemed to find solace in Flowerkit. She stuck to her side like a stubborn burr. Flowerkit was irritated by it, but the ghostly feeling of Softkit's blood on her face made her allow it.

The two sisters were inseparable - much to Flowerkit's disgust. But she figured, if she could be soft on any cat, it would be one of her own bloodline. But Bunnykit was so different from her. She was weak and a crybaby.

When Flowerkit's callous nature made the younger kits cry, Bunnykit would always be the one to comfort them. When Flowerkit killed their "pet" caterpillar just to see what its inside would look like, Bunnykit would shield the younger kits from the sight and sooth their pelts until they stopped crying. When a baby bird fell out of its nest and died, Bunnykit would cry for it. Flowerkit would just watch her with some fascination, that mild, unmoving expression on her face. When Flowerkit and Bunnykit would go to the nearby stream for a splash, they would encounter a family of foxes. Flowerkit would instantly gear up, ready to attack and kill them. But Bunnykit held her back, pointing out that the foxes just wanted a drink of water or splash in the water too. 

When Bunnykit found a sick and dying mouse, she would hide it in a burrow and try to nurse it back to health. Flowerkit would just look down at the mouse and tell her to leave it, it was going to die anyway. They might as well eat it. Flowerkit would try to force her to hand it over, but Bunnykit would just curl over the kit and refuse to move. 

"It's going to die soon, just give it to me." Flowerkit meowed. She pulled at her scruff, trying to tug her away. 

"No! Stop it!" Bunnykit cried. She fought hard to protect the mouse, refusing to let her even look at it. Flowerkit would lose her temper and unsheathe her claws, her fangs itching to just end the wretched thing's life. 

"Damn it, why?" Flowerkit snarled, unable to understand. She hissed, snarled, threatened, but nothing would make her give up the stupid mouse. Eventually, she stormed off in a huff. 

She watched from a distance as the rain began to fall and the hours passed. Judging from Bunnykit's heart wrenching cries, the mouse had died despite her best efforts. 

Flowerkit approached her sister, doing her best to shield her from the downpour. "Why are you crying? You knew it was going to die." She asked. "The weak ones die." It was just so obvious to her. A simple matter of fact. A truth. Yet Bunnykit fought against it so hard. Did everything in her power to defy the mouse's destined death. 

"No, no, no! You're wrong. I know you're sad too, Flower." Bunnykit insisted. Flowerkit drew back a little in surprise before furrowing her brows with impatience. 

"Why? It's so obvious." She stated. But Bunnykit wouldn't hear it. She insisted over and over again that she was sad too. Wasn't it obvious? Flowerkit didn't feel sadness like she did. 

The days passed and the siblings became apprentices. Softkit's absence was like an elephant in the room. Flowerkit was impatient to start the next stage of her life, but Bunnykit was still caught up on Softkit's absence. It was annoying and confusing, but Flowerkit ignored it for now. Her attention was caught on her new mentor. 

The cat was a disappointment. Just some no name warrior that was no different from any other warrior in the clan. Flowerkit quickly lost interest in them. Her training was what really caught her attention. She wanted nothing more than to be the best warrior the islands had ever seen. Which meant being the strongest cat in all of ThistleClan. 

Needless to say, Flowerpaw was not popular among her new peers. They hated her for her stuck-up attitude and how she was seemingly perfect at everything. Flowerpaw was hardly one to bow to their bullying and mostly gave back as good as she got. Their antagonistic attitude only served to justify her temperament towards them. She knew that they were jealous of her aptitude and envious of the great future she had ahead of her. 

Flowerpaw stood solidly against their teasing until the day they took it too far. They brought up Softkit. 

Did she taste good? Has she wailed as she died? Softkit? More like Softcrunch. Flowerpaw snapped. She turned on her tormentors with claws and teeth. By the time they were separated, Flowerpaw's tormentors were taken back to the medicine cat den with broken limbs and bleeding wounds. Flowerpaw was left with a few scratches and a tattered ear.  

The apprentices were reprimanded for their behaviour but she only felt sour requital in her mouth. She turned to look at Butterflypaw and Bunnypaw. They both looked stricken by the teasing with raw pain in their eyes. She bared her teeth at them and said "Never let them speak like that to us."

Flowerpaw's first meeting with her mother was memorable. It was the dead of bare leaf. The snow was heavy on the ground and the fresh kill pile had been empty for days now. Flowerpaw had caught a skinny shrew and brought it back to camp when she spotted a she cat at the camp entrance. The older she cat looked up at the sight of prey and quickly approached her. It took a moment for Flowerpaw to recall her name. Mirepool.

Her mother had obviously seen better days. Her ribs were sticking out of her skin and her face was sickly gaunt. "Flowerpaw! My baby!" She cried as she grasped at her pelt like a street beggar. "You're a huntress just like your mother! I'm so proud of you. Just give the shrew to mommy and you can go back to your siblings." 

Flowerpaw considered Mirepool for a long moment. "No." She meowed calmly, stepping out of her grasp. "I'm done with you. Now I have to do my duty to my clan. After all, mother, I'm not your problem." Flowerpaw echoed her words the night she abandoned them - almost for verbatim. She turned her back on her mother and brought the shrew to Butterflypaw. The next morning, when Mirepool was found starved to death, she felt that they were better off without her.  

Her training was quickly coming to an end when Flowerpaw had her first battle. She was on patrol along the sandy creek with several of her foster brothers. Yewsting was ribbing her for a training mistake she had made the other day when they met with a RedwoodClan patrol. The whole party went quiet as Flowerpaw got her first good look at the other clan cats. They were giant compared to herself and they were stomping along the border like bloated seagulls. 

Yewsting tried to keep the situation civil but the RedwoodClan cats were clearly itching for a fight. They made some claims of ThistleClan scent on the wrong side of the border. All of them bristled at the accusation. Flowerpaw made some biting comments about the intelligence of the RedwoodClan cats - or lack of - and the confrontation dissolved into a battle quickly. 

Flowerpaw went for one of the smaller cats - an apprentice if she had to guess. The cat was obviously new and flailed more than fought. Flowerpaw took advantage of their weakness without remorse. She slipped around their fumbled swiped and went for their throat. She clamped her teeth around their throat until they choked on their breath. Too busy wrestling with the struggling apprentice, Flowerpaw did not notice the other cat until it was too late. 

She was yanked off the apprentice and flung to the side. She flipped midair and landed on her paws to square off with her new opponent. He was as massive as the rest of his clanmates with a few grizzly scars that marked him as an experienced warrior. A worthy opponent. 

Flowerpaw and the tom eyed each other for a moment before she exploded into movement. She knew he would not move, not at the cost of exposing the apprentice to her attacks again. She darted in fast enough to score a hit across his face. She split open the skin above his eye, enough to make blood leak into his eyes. He hissed in pain and swiped at her blindly. Flowerpaw dodged easily, knowing he couldn't hit her with his eyes closed. 

She didn't waste the opportunity to slash at his tendons, striking deep enough to make his leg collapse under him. On his side and blind, it was barely any effort on Flowerpaw's part to sink her claws into his neck and pull. Just in time for the apprentice to peer around his bulk and witness his death. The apprentice screamed in horror at the sight and quickly called the attention of the rest of the RedwoodClan cats. The whole patrol trembled at the sight and quickly called the retreat. They recovered the tom's body before hastily disappearing back into the redwood forest. 

Flowerpaw returned to ThistleClan with blood on her maw and tales of carnage following her like phantoms. So impressed by her performance in the battle, the leader made her on the spot. Flowerbite, they named her, for her battle prowess. 

Flowerbite received a cold welcome into the warrior den. The den was full of her foster family, her mentor, and even her father. It was an uncomfortable setting and Flowerbite quickly moved her den above ground to be with her siblings instead. She grumbled something about unworthiness as she forced Bunnypaw to make room for her. 

Being a warrior was a breath of fresh air for Flowerbite. No mentor hanging over her shoulder, no need to explain herself when she wanted to leave camp, no condescending looks from elders. It was wonderful. Everyone thought she was "responsible" and would mellow out the moment she got her new name. Jokes on them, Flowerbite is just getting started.