Yewthorn

Thistleclan

seal point mink tom with white chest, paws, and chin and green eyes

Yewthorn is not a tall cat. He is stouter than the usual redwood warrior and more sinewy than a lithe LichenClan cat. Despite living in a Clan known for their small stature, Yewthorn stands smaller than them yet. This does not bother the tom much, since his trim musculature atones for his stout frame. His thicker coat also adds to his fit air and creates the illusion that he is larger than he really is. Yewthorn is also shorter from head to tail, his frame more diminutive than nimble and lithe. His tail does little to discredit this claim, since it is as stout as his stature, and almost looks stumpy on his rear-end.

Yewthorn carries a miraculously unusual coat. His fur genetically pointed from his father. He has dark mink points that are almost charcoal in color. In the sun, these points radiate a dark umber brown. His base coat is a fairer cedar brown that darkens as it nears his pointed features. The tom has an alabaster chin, chest, and paws. The white around his neck is disconnected from the white on his lower chest with another woven brown. His neck fur is radiantly white and surrounds his head like beams from the sun. His whiskers extend from his maw and brows in the same alabaster white. 

Yewthorn has round oval face with a shorter, more stout muzzle. This adds to his charismatic air, since his rounder face is more approachable than a cat with keen lines. His nose is as dark as his charcoal snout, and his ears carry the same umber brown. The tufts inside his ear are as white as his chest. While the tom is dark in color, his eyes are an almost extraordinary green - the color reminiscent of an imperial moth caterpillar.

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Born in an astoundingly large litter, Yewthorn quickly learned how to earn his parent's attention. Charismatic and gregarious, the tom excels in most social settings. He is a great conversationalist and enjoys chatting with his den-mates instead of unsheathing his claws in a sparring match. Perhaps not the greatest quality in a Clan who prefers fighting to solve disputes versus talking it out; Yewthorn, however, understands when a sharp quip or insult is appropriate and is intuitive to his den-mate's moods. He can tell when he is not wanted, whether he'll leave or not is another story.

Many find his chattering and remarks annoying, while others find him humorous. Unlike most of his den-mates, he is comfortable in a crowd and enjoys Gathering settings. An adaptable tom, he can adjust his conversational patterns and get along with most cats he encounters — willing they are receptive to conversation. Yewthorn can also make due with his living situation, having been displaced from his home several times. He is not too ingrained in his patterns to be considered rigid and inflexible.

While not the most renowned fighter, Yewthorn is confident to a fault. Perhaps to most of his ThistleClan den-mates, he has nothing to brag about. His pelt isn't particularly riddled with scars nor does he carry many tales of glory on the battle-field. He does, however, have an extensive past of sleeping around and scoring she-cats in and outside of his Clan. A braggart down to the bone, he likes to boast about his past and get competitive with other toms, though this has certainly calmed since settling down with his mate and in his old age.

In the right mood, however, Yewthorn won't shy away from crass conversations. He's particularly known for cornering his den-mates and teasing them about their love life or lack-thereof. Lackadaisical in nature, Yewthorn is not robust or ambitious compared to some of his other more aggressive den-mates. He performs his duties as a warrior, perhaps just enough to get by. His legacy truly lives in the many kits he's sired and the impact they'll make on the island versus any astounding feat he's accomplished on his own.

Yewkit was born in a colossal litter. Daisythorn, a new mother, somehow had to acclimate from a kit-less warrior to a mother of six. Her litter, massive in size, was received by the clan as a blessing from Starclan. The clan had endured a hard leaf-bare that season, which had decimated their livelihood. The six healthy kits birthed into the needled forest were an answered prayer.

Overwhelmed with her litter, Daisythorn turned to her mate, Minkfoot for constant reassurance. She did not even know what to name them. The task, and her endless chores as a mother, led her to fits of anxiety and doubt. Minkfoot, a calm and patient tom, did what he could to assist his mate, and eventually named the kits after the trees that populated the island: Yewkit, Firkit, Birchkit, Cherrykit, Juniperkit, and Sprucekit.

As the first born, Yewkit quickly established himself as the dominant tom in the litter. He became competitive with his brothers and sisters, often vying for attention and resources from his exhausted parents. Since there were so many of them, his role as the dominant kit switched as constantly as the moon waxed and waned. This did not bother him much, since the tom soon discovered he could win attention by mere conversational wit rather than brute force.

The mink kit was a natural with his words and liked to try them out on his inattentive litter-mates. Some, like Sprucekit and Birchkit, humored him. While others, like Cherrykit, Firkit, and Juniperkit could care less about his semantic discoveries. It was a hard crowd. So he took his conversational wit to his older Clan-mates, who regarded him with raised brows and toothy grins. He quickly took to the barbed-tongue, ThistleClan charm.

At six moons, he and his siblings became apprentices. His mentor was the reserved and patient Oatwhisker. The she-cat was unlike the tom in almost every way. She did not like idle conversation, and she liked to remain in isolation. Somehow, this combination worked. The tabby she-cat was able to teach the tom to listen rather than to talk, and Yewpaw drew the she-cat from her shell.

A blossoming flirt, Yewpaw developed a crush on the older she-cat. Oatwhisker was thirteen moons his senior, and he knew she would never return his affections. But that didn't deter him. He was consumed with outlandish fantasies and desires, and it only inflated his ego and confidence. The idea that his mentor liked him back somehow made him even more of a braggart.

When Yewpaw was a few moons into his apprenticeship, foxes attacked the camp. Much to his horror, a stray fox infiltrated the nursery and threatened a queen and her mewling kits. With his brothers, Sprucepaw and Firpaw, beside him, they drove the lone fox from the nursery and back into the camp, where it soon met its demise. Before he returned to battle, Yewpaw assessed the startled kits, too filled with adrenaline to notice one of them was mortally wounded. The mother was also too overwhelmed to think clearly or check on her own kits. She was just grateful the fox was gone. Then he rounded his brothers and shot back into the brawl. It was not until later that he discovered that the wounded kit had been killed. His stomach churned with mild unease and remorse.

He never apologized to the mother.

Yewpaw trained under Oatwhisker until he was thirteen moons old. His love for his mentor subdued now that she had her own mate. Yewpaw had at first been crestfallen and downhearted at the news, but recovered. His affections for the she-cat had been unrealistic to begin with. He decided to be happy for her instead, and he was awarded with his warrior name soon after. He was named Yewthorn for his calculative snark and his ambitious determination. Oatwhisker congratulatory teased that he had been a thorn in her side for moons.

As a young warrior, Yewthorn became notorious for his flirtatious endeavors. Some successful, others not — most somewhere in between. His nights were spent wooing, and his mornings were spent apologizing, as some testy she-cat left his nest hissing and spitting and probably full of regret. It did not take long for rumors to spread, and after a season of tom-catting, Yewthon received a reputation for being a bumbling buffoon, a title his brothers and sisters detested more than he did.

When winter settled over the pine forest during Yewthorn's first year as a warrior, Yarrowfrost, the medicine cat, died from old age. Frostfur was second to follow after green-cough ravaged the clan like a storm. He was not the only cat to die from the sickness. Daisythorn soon lost her life next, too weak to fight the illness, her exhaustion from her litter taking a toll on her frail body.

Not soon after, Minkfur was killed in a battle against a band of foxes later that season. Both Cherrybite and Spurceshade had fought alongside their father but were unable to save him, a plague that haunts them daily. Yewthorn fell into a mild depression at the sudden loss of both of his parents, so soon after one another, but the comfort of his sister, Birchsong, helped him to learn to cope without their company. While he was not a religious tom in the least, he liked to believe that his parents still existed somewhere out there in the forest.

As the air grew warmer, Yewthorn was assigned his first apprentice, Eggpaw. The young tom was an unusual fledgling. He was endlessly talkative, supremely lazy, and perhaps for a different warrior, he would have been incredibly annoying to train, but Yewthorn immediately took to him. How could he not? They were very similar and got along well. Eggpaw showed strong promise as a hunter, but his fighting required more work. The young tom also liked to bail on training sessions, a ploy Yewthorn soon caught on to and remedied with a few hushed deals.

When the young tom became a warrior, Yewthorn had never felt prouder, surprised by how much he enjoyed training apprentices into somewhat respectable warriors. Not soon after, however, he was assigned his second apprentice, Sleetpaw. Similar to Eggpelt, the she-cat was strange in nature, a sore-claw among ThistleClan's snark and sarcasm. She was excitable, carried a short-attention span, and drove Yewthorn insane.

He immediately regretted taking on a second apprentice so soon.

To remedy his stress, the tom started to slip back into tom-catting, a habit that never quite left him. He enjoyed the conversational chase, the seduction, and of course, the actual, carnivorous, lustful deed that followed. When he was finished, he often was overcome with immediate shame and remorse, but the regret never lingered for long. While this was fine in his own clan, the tom soon found himself with few suitors, the she-cats quite familiar with his song-and-dance. His name carried a certain kind of sneer.

This led him across clan borders.

He first met Curlycloud at a gathering. He had spotted the she-cat from afar, mesmerized by her lithe body, her captivating, brown gaze, and her peculiar curled ears. Not soon after, he caught the she-cat near the Redwoodclan border and a short romance ensued until his wits got the better of him, and after their second night together, he vowed never to see her again.

Around the same time, Yewthorn met Shadowface, a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat from Lichenclan. They shared a short conversation at a gathering, and within the week, Yewthorn met her at the Lichenclan border for a single night of passion. Neither of them had plans to ever meet again when it was finished, but their actions had consequences.

And so did sleeping with Curlycloud.

Both she-cats found themselves pregnant with Yewthorn's kits at the start of his second winter. Choosing to keep the secret to themselves, they gave birth in their respective Clans, giving Yewthorn children across both borders, though he would not discover this secret until much later.

As he continued to train Sleetpaw, Yewthorn became acquaintances with a quiet she-cat within his own clan, a beautiful dilute calico named Morningmist. She was unlike other she-cats in Thistleclan, her nature unassuming and meek. Not to mention, she was one of the few cats within the clan that Yewthorn hadn't slept with, a rare feat indeed. Mesmerized by her unobtrusive life, Yewthorn soon became friends with Morningmist, his tom-catting forgotten for the time-being, and a different feeling, one much like infatuation, overcame him like a crashing wave.

He was in love with her.

As he spent more time with Morningmist, Yewthorn found himself developing more patience and ability to listen to the island. They became closer and closer. During this time, his brother Firfoot was chosen to become the next deputy of ThistleClan after Hawktail stepped down. Yewthorn disagreed with the choice, never getting along with his brother, and used every opportunity to dig his thorns into his pelt. They grew to detest each other even more.

After a few dedicated moons, Sleetpaw finally became Sleetwing. Like Eggpelt, the tom was proud of his trainee and hopeful for his future as a mentor — and perhaps something more.

After patiently waiting for nearly a season, Morningmist finally unfurled against him and professed her love for him. They became mates, and Yewthorn did the unthinkable, he settled down. Not soon after, Morningmist gave birth to their first litter of kits together. They welcomed four kits, three she-cats and a tom to ThistleClan: Featherkit, Swallowkit, Dovekit, and Jaykit. Yewthorn learned he rather liked being a father, similar to how he took to training apprentices. He enjoyed imparting his wisdom and watching them grow.

Shortly after their birth, he learned about his kits across both borders and the consequences of his tom-catting. Curlycloud hunted him down first, revealing she also gave birth to four kits. Shadowface came second. He had two sons in LichenClan. It was a shocking and harrowing experience for Yewthorn, one mostly riddled with guilt. He confessed his deepest regrets to Morningmist, expecting her to denounce and leave him, but she only vowed to hold him accountable. His past relationships didn't change her love for him.

They came out on the other side stronger than ever.

Then the flood struck their camp, displacing them to the abandoned two-leg dens for an entire leaf-bare and new-leaf. They barely escaped the rising waters with all four of their kits, now apprentices, and their own lives, but when they did, they clung to one another, just happy to be alive. It was then they decided to embark on their next journey as parents. Morningmist fell pregnant again by the middle of leaf-bare.

During her pregnancy, Firfoot and Cherrybite went missing from the flood, forcing Thievingstar to demote the tom and choose Stagflight as her deputy in his place. Yewthorn had mixed feelings about his brother's demotion, despite liking Stagflight as a better choice.

Born in the depths of a cruel and unforgiving leaf-bare, their second litter was shrouded in tragedy. Again, Morningmist birthed four kits, but only one survived, another son. They wept over their stillborn children and named their living kit, Wrenkit.

But as fate would have it, Thievingstar and Stagflight returned to camp one blustery, cold night, two small rogue kits hanging from their jowls. They needed a warm nest and milk. So Morningmist and Yewthorn readily took them in and raised them as their own. They were named Frozenkit and Fadingkit.

As the snow began to melt, they began to send patrols to scout their old camp to see when they could return. On one such patrol, Yewthorn accompanied his den-mates, and they found rogues living in their flood-destroyed home. As the patrol leader, Yewthorn advised his warriors to hang back, but they didn't listen, provoking the rogues instead. A fight ensued, and they were forced to retreat.

Yewthorn returned to the abandoned campground and reported the rogues to Thievingstar. They soon learn that Lily and her band of rogues had returned to the forest. During this time, Birchsong sought out Yewthorn to confess that she's in love with a mysterious rogue. Worried, Yewthorn tried to discourage her from pursuing the rogue and admitted his own children across the border to her. Desperately he did not want Birchsong to experience the same heartache as him, but she refused to listen.

During the end of green-leaf, ThistleClan devised a plan to take back their camp from the rogues, and they attacked. A deadly battle ensued, but they managed to force back the rogues and return home.

Shortly after, Birchsong gave birth to her own kits. She claimed Maplebranch, a den-mate of theirs, as the father, but Yewthorn remained suspicious, remembering her confession from earlier in the season. Birchsong then made the mistake of bringing Cedarkit out of camp to meet her birth father a few moons later. Under his roguish guise, Birchsong was blindsided as he kidnapped her daughter under her very nose. She returned to camp, completely distraught. Juniperfang was the one to intercept her, but instead of protecting her, Juniperfang turned her into Thievingstar, who banished Birchsong for endangering a kit.

Upset over losing his closest sibling, Yewthorn joined several patrols to help and try to find Cedarkit, and secretly his sister, but they returned to camp every night empty-pawed. Shortly after becoming an apprentice, his niece Meadopaw was selected as the next medicine cat apprentice.

The entirety of leaf-bare was spent searching for Cedarkit, but she was never found. Only Morningmist was able to comfort Yewthorn, his relationship with the rest of siblings strained. After new-leaf arrived, the rogues launched a deadly attack on the camp, which was when they learned of their dangerous alliance with LichenClan. With their help, Thievingstar lost the rest of her lives and died. Stagstar rose to power, choosing Firfoot again as his deputy. Yewthorn begrudgingly accepted his decision, and the two worked together to try and find Cedarkit and Birchsong.

In the following moons, Lionpaw was then assigned as his next apprentice. A natural flirt and charmer, Yewthorn found himself enjoying the young tom's presence over the long green-leaf. It was a nice distraction from his sister's disappearance. It was only when the cold threatened the island again and whispers of war spread across the land did ThistleClan finally join an alliance with RedwoodClan and the LichenClan rebels.

Yewthorn did not join the final war to end Minnowstar's tyranny. Instead, he remained in camp among his many children and mate, vowing to keep them and the rest of his den-mate's safe. It was a long night, but victoriously, ThistleClan returned home with Minnowstar slayed and the rogues defeated. As the dawn spread over the horizon, Yewthorn looked to Morningmist, a sparkle within his gaze. They decided to have another litter, and as snow fell upon the camp again, they welcomed three daughters into ThistleClan: Kestrelkit, Pipitkit, and Lark-kit.

A father to many, Yewthorn carries a legacy few could only dream of. His blood can be found across all borders. In his aging moons, he only wants to reconnect with his sister, and live the rest of his days at Morningmist's side, enjoying the peace he always longed for.