Post by Deleted on Aug 12, 2020 20:33:48 GMT -6
ivorypaw
thistleclan
a medium-furred flame point molly with blue eyes
APPRENTICE
she-cat
6 moons
Appearance
Ivorypaw stands at a shorter height than the average domestic cat but, as far as her Clan is concerned, she has a perfect build. Her body is well-suited to their dense forest. She carries well an athletic, small body capable of maneuvering through tight spaces with grace; lean shoulders are fixed close together to squeeze between thick branches; toes long and flat for gripping loose mulch; ears tall and sharp, able to easily pick up the movement of small forest animals. As she trains to become a warrior, her muscles will get even more refined and she will be the perfect example of what a ThistleClan warrior should look like.
That is... perfect except for the color of her pelt. Ivorypaw, as her name would indicate, has a solid, bone-white pelt. The only hint of color rests along the bridge of her muzzle, the back of her ears, and her tail. As she grows into adulthood, these flame points will become more and more prominent. Even so, she will never be able to hide as easily in the shadows like a darker pelted Clan-mate would. She lacks the ruddy colors of her mother in order to simply blend in among the pines and the undergrowth. Aside from color, however, her pelt has a perfect consistency for a ThistleClanner. It is thick and lengthy without being cumbersome, keeping her skin shielded from pointed branches and providing warmth in the cold.
Her head is small in size, though not disproportionately so. It does seem overshadowed by her large eyes, tall ears, and extensively long whiskers. A small face with dramatic features. Her eyes, which are indeed wide, hold a complex shade of blue. They look almost white in direct sunlight, or a deep lake-blue under the shadows of the evergreens.
That is... perfect except for the color of her pelt. Ivorypaw, as her name would indicate, has a solid, bone-white pelt. The only hint of color rests along the bridge of her muzzle, the back of her ears, and her tail. As she grows into adulthood, these flame points will become more and more prominent. Even so, she will never be able to hide as easily in the shadows like a darker pelted Clan-mate would. She lacks the ruddy colors of her mother in order to simply blend in among the pines and the undergrowth. Aside from color, however, her pelt has a perfect consistency for a ThistleClanner. It is thick and lengthy without being cumbersome, keeping her skin shielded from pointed branches and providing warmth in the cold.
Her head is small in size, though not disproportionately so. It does seem overshadowed by her large eyes, tall ears, and extensively long whiskers. A small face with dramatic features. Her eyes, which are indeed wide, hold a complex shade of blue. They look almost white in direct sunlight, or a deep lake-blue under the shadows of the evergreens.
Personality
Ever since the rogue attack and Hawktail's advice, Ivorypaw has had a dogged determination to become a fearsome warrior. She takes the things she sets her mind to very seriously. She doesn't let anything perturb her from getting her desired result, willing to try and try again. She doesn't care about what's stopping her, she will find a way around it if she has to. It's good for situations where that kind of tenacity is required for success. It's great for that.
Yet, such a continuous level of determination can take a dark turn, however. It is a double-edged thorn which she wields with pride. Ivorypaw can go from determined to relentless pretty quickly, which will become especially apparent when she fights. She has a soft side, it's true, but she also has a side of herself that is dark, merciless, and wishes to strike fear into the heart of anyone that dares to cross her Clan-mates.
She is wholly devoted to her Clan, her family, and her friends. She treats them all with as much love and loyalty as she has to offer. She values each and every life within her Clan. Ivorypaw can be very outgoing and friendly with her Clan-mates. Even if she doesn't get along with someone on a personal level, she would treat them with the utmost loyalty regardless. She is very considerate of her Clan-mates in that way, striving not to let their differences get between them.
When it comes to outsiders, she shows a different face. She is suspicious of anyone that resides outside of ThistleClan's borders, more willing to show them her claws than a friendly smile. To those that are not her Clan-mate, she has no tolerance; not an ounce of trust. This is especially true of rogues, moreso than other Clan cats. If any of her Clan-mates gives her a good reason, they could lose her trust instantly. Ivorypaw can get very worried about the dangers that surround her Clan-mates in any situation. In a way, she is always ready to leap to their defense, but it is a stressful weight to carry - especially since she tends to put it all on her own shoulders.
Yet, such a continuous level of determination can take a dark turn, however. It is a double-edged thorn which she wields with pride. Ivorypaw can go from determined to relentless pretty quickly, which will become especially apparent when she fights. She has a soft side, it's true, but she also has a side of herself that is dark, merciless, and wishes to strike fear into the heart of anyone that dares to cross her Clan-mates.
She is wholly devoted to her Clan, her family, and her friends. She treats them all with as much love and loyalty as she has to offer. She values each and every life within her Clan. Ivorypaw can be very outgoing and friendly with her Clan-mates. Even if she doesn't get along with someone on a personal level, she would treat them with the utmost loyalty regardless. She is very considerate of her Clan-mates in that way, striving not to let their differences get between them.
When it comes to outsiders, she shows a different face. She is suspicious of anyone that resides outside of ThistleClan's borders, more willing to show them her claws than a friendly smile. To those that are not her Clan-mate, she has no tolerance; not an ounce of trust. This is especially true of rogues, moreso than other Clan cats. If any of her Clan-mates gives her a good reason, they could lose her trust instantly. Ivorypaw can get very worried about the dangers that surround her Clan-mates in any situation. In a way, she is always ready to leap to their defense, but it is a stressful weight to carry - especially since she tends to put it all on her own shoulders.
History
Grandmother: Minkfang - a dull brown ticked tabby molly with sharp yellow eyes and a small face. Deceased.
Grandfather: Brightclaw - a medium-haired, point tom with blue eyes. Deceased.
Mother: Honeyblossom - a pretty, ruddy-brown torbie molly with green eyes.
Father: Bonefur - a thick-furred, bicolor flame point tom with blue eyes (appears mostly-white).
Siblings: Mallowkit - female stillborn; Swankit - female stillborn; Palekit - male stillborn.
Aunts: Hawktail - a ruddy, ticked tabby molly with green eyes.
Hornetfur - a dark brown ticked tabby molly with amber eyes.
Nettlepaw - a blue-gray ticked tabby molly with green eyes, deceased.
Uncles: Wrenfeather - a lighter brown ticked tabby tom with yellow eyes.
Foxfire - a long-haired, deep red tabby tom with amber eyes.
Ivorykit was not born alone on that snowy evening. Three siblings followed her into the world, but that was the furthest they would make it. For one reason or another, Honeyblossom had three stillbirths. Perhaps it had been the stress of leaf-bare, the food shortage, the impending threat of rogues on the border. Any of those factors alone would be enough to stress a queen and take a toll on her unborn litter, but they happened all at once. She was lucky to keep one kit.
It would be a lie to say that it didn't break Honeyblossom's heart; that she didn't spend those early days of motherhood sniffling into the pelt of her mate, Bonefur. Regardless of the losses, Honeyblossom still treasured their Ivorykit. She would not follow in the footsteps of her own mother, Minkfang, and punish her firstborn for being the only one strong enough to survive.
Survive she did. Ivorykit grew like a weed, just as strong and stubborn. Even her little spirit was contagious. When she was able to walk and run and jump, she became a very rambunctious kit. She kept everyone around her on their toes. Rather than being a mischievous kit, Ivory was simply... adventurous, daring. She would jump from places too high for a kit, she'd sneak after patrols until they noticed her (which didn't take long at all), and she often copied the older apprentices or cats she thought were 'cool'. Honeyblossom was a busy mother, always having to keep track of Ivorykit's whereabouts.
In an attempt to keep her well-occupied, Honeyblossom would make up fun games and Bonefur would satiate her curiosity about hunting and fighting. Even her other aunts and uncles would join in the fun, especially Nettlepaw - who had a love for mischief and was a total smart-aleck. Ivorykit adored her attitude about everything, and would often repeat words the apprentice said.
Uncle Wrenfeather was more timid than the rest of their family, showing Ivorykit that it wasn't necessary to always be tough. He was very loving with her, showing her a kinship that not many others in their family had - aside from her mother. Most of Ivorykit's family was tough in some way or another, even her mother had a firmness about her at times. Not Wrenfeather, though, and Ivorykit quickly learned that she had to treat him kindly in order for him to like her - and she wanted him to like her. She wanted everyone in her family to like her, if not love her!
So, it comes as no surprise that Ivorykit tried her hardest to convince Hawktail to give her the time of day. She didn't understand why her aunt was so cold-shouldered to their family and, by extension, her. Honeyblossom would tell her that Hawktail was going through her own things, even though it was hard to tell because she was the strongest one in their family - and perhaps their Clan. Ivorykit didn't give up, though.
It was a day like any other when the rogues attacked. It all happened so fast. One moment, the camp was peaceful and quiet. She'd been playing with another kit under her mother's watchful gaze. Suddenly, Honeyblossom seemed bothered by something. Her nose was to the air, and her face contorted with an emotion Ivorykit only saw on her face when something was really wrong. Suddenly, Nettlepaw appeared in the camp, bloodied and bruised. Blood spilled across the thin layer of snow, Nettlepaw's blood. Honeyblossom immediately went to her younger sister's aid. The camp exploded into chaos, warriors moving to and fro trying to scramble for answers and direction. Ivorykit pushed her way through their legs to see what was happening to Nettlepaw.
"R-Rogues...Thievingstar..."
Ivorykit watched in disbelief as Nettlepaw was hauled off to the medicine cat's den. It wasn't long before decisions were made. Thievingstar was in danger. They needed Hawktail back from her patrol. Honeyblossom had disappeared with Nettlepaw into the medicine cat's den but, when Ivorykit tried to follow, Mothfern grabbed her by the scruff and took her away to the nearest tunnel. He was related to her through her father, but it was a distant relation and she had never really gotten to know him past minor interactions. He seemed caught up in warrior things and a pretty gray she-cat that went with him everywhere. Sleetwing was her name, and she quietly came to crouch beside them.
She stayed beside Mothfern and Sleetwing's flanks readily, however, finding their softness a comforting presence amid all the pandemonium. Together, they watched through wide eyes as a patrol left to rescue Thievingstar from the rogues. The camp grew silent with apprehension. A vein of tension pulsed through everyone as they waited with crouched limbs and ready claws.
A gust of ice-cold wind swept a flurry of snow into the camp. Ivorykit flinched into Mothfern's fur, squeezing her eyes shut. When she finally opened them, the patrol had returned... none of them made it back unscathed. Two of the warriors' bodies were limp, though, and Ivorykit asked Mothfern what was wrong with them. She did receive an answer, but not from him. As if on cue, Hawktail announced that Cedarflame and Crowfrost were dead. Her aunt's voice carried a pained tone that she had never heard in it before. Not to mention, Hawktail's entire shoulder was plastered in her own blood. She was shortly ushered into the medicine cat's den, limping awfully.
Ivorykit didn't know death until that day. Shock and grief rippled through the Clan, dealing a hard blow to her young heart. She realized then how horrible it was. The images of smeared blood on translucent snow, hollow eyes and gaping mouths, would forever be ingrained in her mind. It was haunting. Mothfern suddenly ushered her deeper into their tunnel, where she cried into his soft fur until she fell into a fitful sleep.
When she woke up, she was back in the nursery with her parents. She questioned her mother, asking if it had really happened, and Honeyblossom nodded sadly. Nettlepaw had died of her wounds sometime after returning home, as well. Ivorykit couldn't believe it. She didn't want to. Sobbing, she ran away from the nursery. Her mother called after her, but she ignored her. She went looking for Mothfern again, seeking him out in the warriors' den. She ran into his and Sleetwing's comforting embraces, where she stayed until the morning.
Ivorykit came back around slowly and, even then, she was unable to return to her previous normalcy. She hung around Mothfern when he wasn't busy, having small chats with him and Sleetwing that lifted the weight off her conscience. Still, something tugged her in the direction of the medicine cat's den.
She wandered into the den a few weeks after the rogue battle and when she spotted her aunt resting in one of the nests, she approached. Hawktail had given up her rank as deputy, and the younger warrior Firfoot had taken her place. Ivorykit didn't know, but she could guess that her aunt was really disappointed to lose that. Honeyblossom had once told her just how ambitious and power-hungry her aunt was.
At first, Ivorykit quietly played around beside her while she rested. Hawktail pretended not to notice her presence, but as the behavior continued for days, she finally gave in. "Get out," she'd snapped at Ivorykit, who froze in stunned silence. Still, she returned the next day with Hawktail's breakfast. They ate it together, as per Hawktail's insistence. She said it was because she couldn't eat it all, but Ivorykit thinks it was a turn for their relationship. She weaseled her way into her aunt's heart. It got to the point where she was able to get Hawktail to tell her stories of past battles and crazy stunts.
One day, Ivorykit asked Hawktail about the rogues. The atmosphere shifted and Hawktail's voice grew foreboding. She told young Ivorykit all about the cruelty that the rogues were capable of, leaving out not a single detail - even if she was just a kit. Perhaps Hawktail thought it was better to understand the extent of the brutality that existed in the world beyond the camp. Then, Hawktail told Ivorykit something that would stick with her forever.
"Listen to me, Ivorykit. Wherever you go, whoever you're with, you will always have an enemy... Make them afraid of you. Be brave and cruel and show them no mercy. That is the only way you can keep the ones you love safe."
The moment was so intense that Ivorykit ran away crying. She carries those words into her apprenticeship and will treat them as if they are apart of the warrior code.
Grandfather: Brightclaw - a medium-haired, point tom with blue eyes. Deceased.
Mother: Honeyblossom - a pretty, ruddy-brown torbie molly with green eyes.
Father: Bonefur - a thick-furred, bicolor flame point tom with blue eyes (appears mostly-white).
Siblings: Mallowkit - female stillborn; Swankit - female stillborn; Palekit - male stillborn.
Aunts: Hawktail - a ruddy, ticked tabby molly with green eyes.
Hornetfur - a dark brown ticked tabby molly with amber eyes.
Nettlepaw - a blue-gray ticked tabby molly with green eyes, deceased.
Uncles: Wrenfeather - a lighter brown ticked tabby tom with yellow eyes.
Foxfire - a long-haired, deep red tabby tom with amber eyes.
Ivorykit was not born alone on that snowy evening. Three siblings followed her into the world, but that was the furthest they would make it. For one reason or another, Honeyblossom had three stillbirths. Perhaps it had been the stress of leaf-bare, the food shortage, the impending threat of rogues on the border. Any of those factors alone would be enough to stress a queen and take a toll on her unborn litter, but they happened all at once. She was lucky to keep one kit.
It would be a lie to say that it didn't break Honeyblossom's heart; that she didn't spend those early days of motherhood sniffling into the pelt of her mate, Bonefur. Regardless of the losses, Honeyblossom still treasured their Ivorykit. She would not follow in the footsteps of her own mother, Minkfang, and punish her firstborn for being the only one strong enough to survive.
Survive she did. Ivorykit grew like a weed, just as strong and stubborn. Even her little spirit was contagious. When she was able to walk and run and jump, she became a very rambunctious kit. She kept everyone around her on their toes. Rather than being a mischievous kit, Ivory was simply... adventurous, daring. She would jump from places too high for a kit, she'd sneak after patrols until they noticed her (which didn't take long at all), and she often copied the older apprentices or cats she thought were 'cool'. Honeyblossom was a busy mother, always having to keep track of Ivorykit's whereabouts.
In an attempt to keep her well-occupied, Honeyblossom would make up fun games and Bonefur would satiate her curiosity about hunting and fighting. Even her other aunts and uncles would join in the fun, especially Nettlepaw - who had a love for mischief and was a total smart-aleck. Ivorykit adored her attitude about everything, and would often repeat words the apprentice said.
Uncle Wrenfeather was more timid than the rest of their family, showing Ivorykit that it wasn't necessary to always be tough. He was very loving with her, showing her a kinship that not many others in their family had - aside from her mother. Most of Ivorykit's family was tough in some way or another, even her mother had a firmness about her at times. Not Wrenfeather, though, and Ivorykit quickly learned that she had to treat him kindly in order for him to like her - and she wanted him to like her. She wanted everyone in her family to like her, if not love her!
So, it comes as no surprise that Ivorykit tried her hardest to convince Hawktail to give her the time of day. She didn't understand why her aunt was so cold-shouldered to their family and, by extension, her. Honeyblossom would tell her that Hawktail was going through her own things, even though it was hard to tell because she was the strongest one in their family - and perhaps their Clan. Ivorykit didn't give up, though.
It was a day like any other when the rogues attacked. It all happened so fast. One moment, the camp was peaceful and quiet. She'd been playing with another kit under her mother's watchful gaze. Suddenly, Honeyblossom seemed bothered by something. Her nose was to the air, and her face contorted with an emotion Ivorykit only saw on her face when something was really wrong. Suddenly, Nettlepaw appeared in the camp, bloodied and bruised. Blood spilled across the thin layer of snow, Nettlepaw's blood. Honeyblossom immediately went to her younger sister's aid. The camp exploded into chaos, warriors moving to and fro trying to scramble for answers and direction. Ivorykit pushed her way through their legs to see what was happening to Nettlepaw.
"R-Rogues...Thievingstar..."
Ivorykit watched in disbelief as Nettlepaw was hauled off to the medicine cat's den. It wasn't long before decisions were made. Thievingstar was in danger. They needed Hawktail back from her patrol. Honeyblossom had disappeared with Nettlepaw into the medicine cat's den but, when Ivorykit tried to follow, Mothfern grabbed her by the scruff and took her away to the nearest tunnel. He was related to her through her father, but it was a distant relation and she had never really gotten to know him past minor interactions. He seemed caught up in warrior things and a pretty gray she-cat that went with him everywhere. Sleetwing was her name, and she quietly came to crouch beside them.
She stayed beside Mothfern and Sleetwing's flanks readily, however, finding their softness a comforting presence amid all the pandemonium. Together, they watched through wide eyes as a patrol left to rescue Thievingstar from the rogues. The camp grew silent with apprehension. A vein of tension pulsed through everyone as they waited with crouched limbs and ready claws.
A gust of ice-cold wind swept a flurry of snow into the camp. Ivorykit flinched into Mothfern's fur, squeezing her eyes shut. When she finally opened them, the patrol had returned... none of them made it back unscathed. Two of the warriors' bodies were limp, though, and Ivorykit asked Mothfern what was wrong with them. She did receive an answer, but not from him. As if on cue, Hawktail announced that Cedarflame and Crowfrost were dead. Her aunt's voice carried a pained tone that she had never heard in it before. Not to mention, Hawktail's entire shoulder was plastered in her own blood. She was shortly ushered into the medicine cat's den, limping awfully.
Ivorykit didn't know death until that day. Shock and grief rippled through the Clan, dealing a hard blow to her young heart. She realized then how horrible it was. The images of smeared blood on translucent snow, hollow eyes and gaping mouths, would forever be ingrained in her mind. It was haunting. Mothfern suddenly ushered her deeper into their tunnel, where she cried into his soft fur until she fell into a fitful sleep.
When she woke up, she was back in the nursery with her parents. She questioned her mother, asking if it had really happened, and Honeyblossom nodded sadly. Nettlepaw had died of her wounds sometime after returning home, as well. Ivorykit couldn't believe it. She didn't want to. Sobbing, she ran away from the nursery. Her mother called after her, but she ignored her. She went looking for Mothfern again, seeking him out in the warriors' den. She ran into his and Sleetwing's comforting embraces, where she stayed until the morning.
Ivorykit came back around slowly and, even then, she was unable to return to her previous normalcy. She hung around Mothfern when he wasn't busy, having small chats with him and Sleetwing that lifted the weight off her conscience. Still, something tugged her in the direction of the medicine cat's den.
She wandered into the den a few weeks after the rogue battle and when she spotted her aunt resting in one of the nests, she approached. Hawktail had given up her rank as deputy, and the younger warrior Firfoot had taken her place. Ivorykit didn't know, but she could guess that her aunt was really disappointed to lose that. Honeyblossom had once told her just how ambitious and power-hungry her aunt was.
At first, Ivorykit quietly played around beside her while she rested. Hawktail pretended not to notice her presence, but as the behavior continued for days, she finally gave in. "Get out," she'd snapped at Ivorykit, who froze in stunned silence. Still, she returned the next day with Hawktail's breakfast. They ate it together, as per Hawktail's insistence. She said it was because she couldn't eat it all, but Ivorykit thinks it was a turn for their relationship. She weaseled her way into her aunt's heart. It got to the point where she was able to get Hawktail to tell her stories of past battles and crazy stunts.
One day, Ivorykit asked Hawktail about the rogues. The atmosphere shifted and Hawktail's voice grew foreboding. She told young Ivorykit all about the cruelty that the rogues were capable of, leaving out not a single detail - even if she was just a kit. Perhaps Hawktail thought it was better to understand the extent of the brutality that existed in the world beyond the camp. Then, Hawktail told Ivorykit something that would stick with her forever.
"Listen to me, Ivorykit. Wherever you go, whoever you're with, you will always have an enemy... Make them afraid of you. Be brave and cruel and show them no mercy. That is the only way you can keep the ones you love safe."
The moment was so intense that Ivorykit ran away crying. She carries those words into her apprenticeship and will treat them as if they are apart of the warrior code.
