Post by budgie on Sept 15, 2020 20:47:41 GMT -6
STAGSTAR
THISTLECLAN
medium-haired dark ginger tom with yellow eyes
leader
tom
75 moons
Appearance
Stature: Stagstar has a lean, medium-sized build, and longer than average legs. This allows him to jump rather high, but does not give him a great deal of defensive bulk. Instead, he relies more heavily on speed and wit.
Pelt: With a bright amber pelt, Stagstar is perfectly suited to hunting in leaf-fall when the island becomes a rich landscape of warm hues. He certainly doesn't look like a stag, that’s for sure. But while most queens would name a red-furred kit Flame, Fire, or Ember, he was not named for his pelt–he was named after his father, Deerleap.
His fur is slightly longer than average, providing him with extra warmth during leafbare, and his tail is bushy like a squirrel’s. His only markings are a small patch of white fur on his chin and chest, an “M”-shaped marking on his forehead, and a slightly darker line of red fur that runs down his spine to the tip of his tail. Otherwise, his pelt is completely solid colored.
Face: Stagstar's golden eyes complement his pelt nicely, as does his dark pink nose. Long tufts of red fur frame his angular face and stick out from his ears a bit. His face is not very emotive, so it’s hard to tell if he’s pleased or upset with you.
Pelt: With a bright amber pelt, Stagstar is perfectly suited to hunting in leaf-fall when the island becomes a rich landscape of warm hues. He certainly doesn't look like a stag, that’s for sure. But while most queens would name a red-furred kit Flame, Fire, or Ember, he was not named for his pelt–he was named after his father, Deerleap.
His fur is slightly longer than average, providing him with extra warmth during leafbare, and his tail is bushy like a squirrel’s. His only markings are a small patch of white fur on his chin and chest, an “M”-shaped marking on his forehead, and a slightly darker line of red fur that runs down his spine to the tip of his tail. Otherwise, his pelt is completely solid colored.
Face: Stagstar's golden eyes complement his pelt nicely, as does his dark pink nose. Long tufts of red fur frame his angular face and stick out from his ears a bit. His face is not very emotive, so it’s hard to tell if he’s pleased or upset with you.
Personality
+ Hardworking
No cat in Thistleclan can deny that Stagstar is a hard worker. Not one to nap in the sun or get distracted on a hunt, Staglight fulfills his warrior duties with diligence. Even after his work is done, he’ll still find ways to go on working, whether it’s gathering herbs for the medicine cat or helping the apprentices patch up the dens, until his body becomes too weary to go on.
For Stagflight, stopping to rest is unpleasant, dangerous even, because when his paws stop, his mind whirls with all of the worries and regrets he’s tried to ignore to countless moons. So he goes on working, and any cat that interrupts that work is sure to catch a bit of ire.
+ Clever
While he might not understand social cues or healthy relationships, he knows a whole lot about fighting, hunting, and Thistleclan territory. Not particularly bulky, he relies on wit to win fights instead of brute force. And since he spends as much time as possible away from camp, he is quite familiar with the lay of the land and can use this to his advantage.
= Aloof
Growing up an only-kit in a family that had detached itself from its ancestors, Stagflight didn’t have a lot of playtime with others his age. He remains distant from other cats who aren’t his immediate family, even shutting out his cousins, aunts, and uncles.
= Mistrustful
At gatherings, Stagflight is not one to mingle with cats from other clans. He does not trust outsiders, especially not rogues or their newly discovered neighbors, the Tribe. Even for cats within Thistleclan, earning his trust is difficult.
- Fickle
While he was named for his impressive leap, it also coincidentally describes the tom’s flighty nature. He doesn’t like feeling “boxed in”, and would rather have other cats make big decisions for him.
- Awkward
His curt manner of speaking may serve him well in the heat of battle, but when it comes to socializing, those terse words don’t get him very far. His conversations are often one-sided, with the other side doing all of the talking.
He doesn’t really get why that’s a bad thing, either–if he has nothing important to say, what’s the point of saying anything at all? The concept of small talk alludes him, and makes it especially difficult for him to connect with his daughters.
History
I. STAGKIT: Like Father, Like Son (and Unlike Grandfather)
The grandson of Froststar, Stagkit was the only kit born to Deerleap and Pansyflower. His older cousins were all out of the nursery before he was even born, and so he became very close with his mother and father.
While his cousins heard stories of the greatness of Froststar, Stagkit got a very different version of history from his father and Froststar’s son, Deerleap. According to him, Froststar was a weak leader who betrayed Thistleclan by taking a tom from another clan for a mate, then lying about it for moons upon moons. Stagkit quickly learned that he couldn’t trust any cat, not even his own leader.
Despite being the only kit in the nursery, he never felt lonely or bored. He was very close to his mother and father, and as a result, matured more quickly than the average kit. They always had interesting stories to share or news to report, which to Stagkit, beat silly old kit games any day.
II. STAGPAW: Big Toms Don’t Cry
As an apprentice, Stagpaw made few friends due to his suspicious and distant nature. Even when he felt more comfortable with his new denmates, he never knew what to say to keep a conversation going.
To make matters worse, shortly after his 9th moon he lost one of the only cats he was close to - his mother, Pansyflower. She came down with a sudden bout of white-cough, and things happened too quickly for Stagpaw to process. One day he was telling his mother about his latest successful hunt, and the next she was just barely clinging to life in the medicine cat’s den.
He looked to his father to tell him what to do and how to react, Deerleap offered no comfort or guidance. So Stagpaw went on doing the only thing he knew to do - go on with his training, and work hard to be the best warrior he could be.
Despite this, Stagpaw was dedicated to his training and earned his warrior name at twelve moons old. He was fast on his feet and known for catching birds right out of the air. Before his warrior ceremony, he brought down a hawk near the northern peninsula. It was a lively chase. The hawk was injured but trying to flee, and the young red warrior was gaining quickly. With an impressive leap, he brought the bird of prey down before swiftly delivering the final blow with his jaws. He stood over his difficult catch with pride for only a moment before his body was racked by sobs. Burying his face in the hawk’s feathers, he wailed like a mewling kit until he was able to compose himself and start dragging the catch back to his mentor, who had been hunting on the other side of the territory.
It was the one and only time he allowed himself to grieve.
III. STAGFLIGHT: You ARE The Father!
As a warrior, Stagflight came to detest grandfather's peaceful leadership even more. Froststar made Thistleclan too weak, a laughingstock in the forest compared to the other two clans. As a warrior, he became convinced that Thistleclan should join the war on Redwoodclan’s side to overcome Lichenclan in order to show their superiority and strength. Eventually, he even found a few other warriors who shared his beliefs and started forming his first real friendships with other cats his age.
But even with new duties and new friends, Stagflight still made the time to visit his father in the elder’s den often. Deerleap had been distant after Pansyflower’s death, but retiring had softened him somewhat, enough that he was grateful for his son’s company.
When he was around thirty-five moons of age, Froststar passed from green-cough. While he wasn't particularly 'glad' that Froststar was dead, he was hopeful that his grandfather’s successor, Thievingstar, would be more aggressive under her leadership.
Not long after, his father passed from what the medicine cat claimed to be natural causes. Part of him was relieved that his father had passed peacefully, unlike his mother, but it was still painful. With no immediate family left, he’s allowed himself to become a bit closer with his cousins, particularly Lakesong.
Close to his fortieth moon, he went on what seemed like an ordinary patrol with his Lakesong, her new apprentice, and Shadowheart, a she-cat he didn’t really know and didn’t care to know.
Shortly after they left camp, Lakesong’s apprentice cut his paw on a sharp rock, and the pair went back to camp to have the medicine cat take care of it. Unsure of what to do, Stagflight started to follow his cousin, but Shadowheart beckoned him back with her tail. “What, we’re just going to end this patrol to tend to an apprentice’s little scrape?” Surprised, Stagflight didn’t respond, but followed her deeper into the pine forest.
“Nice catch!” he mewed as Shadowheart pinned a frog that had suddenly jumped out from the surrounding bushes. The she-cat snorted, then chuckled a bit. “I don’t know why I caught it, I hate frog! They’re just so...slimy.”
Stagflight racked his brain for something witty or funny to say (why was he trying so hard to be witty or funny, anyway?), but all that came out was “I’ll eat it.”
“Be my guest,” Shadowheart mewed, pushing the creature toward him. Stagflight gulped - he hated frog too, why had he said that? But he couldn’t back down now. He bent his head to eat it, taking a few rapid bites to get it over with, but he failed to suppress an audible gag. Shadowheart erupted in laughter, and Stagflight couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“Come on, let’s head over to the waterfall so you can wash out your mouth. We can check the Redwood border while we’re down there.”
Feeling uncharacteristically spontaneous, Stagflight made a beeline for the river. “Last one there’s a rotten frog!”
He was fast, but she was faster - she beat him by several fox lengths, giving her enough time to turn around and splash him with water from the river. Looking around to make sure his clanmates, or worse, a Redwoodclan patrol wasn’t nearby, he jumped into the shallow water with her. He chased her to the waterfall, and to his surprise, she slipped behind it. He followed her into the rocky shelter, the cascade of water sparkling by the light of the sun.
“Have you never been back here?” She mewed, her voice trembling slightly. He was trembling too, but he didn’t want it to stop.
“No, I...I usually stick to the border line."
"Really? Aw, come on, where's your sense of adventure?" Her voice was still low, and her tail brushed his back ever so slightly.
The Redwoodclan border was not checked that day.
Whether it was embarrassment or uncertainty, Stagflight and Shadowheart avoided each other after that day. Their sudden and intense chemistry had shocked them both, so they were even more shocked to discover Shadowheart was pregnant. Terrified, Stagflight quickly broke off the relationship. Hurt and confused, Shadowheart became hostile toward him and distanced himself from the nursery. He didn’t even see his kits the day they were born - he spent that day high up in the owl tree, looking out at the vast lake and beating himself up for making such a careless mistake.
He didn’t see his daughters until they took their first stumbling steps out of the nursery. For a second, he felt a flicker of pride, but it was immediately snuffed out by fear. I’d just mess them up if I got involved. I’m not meant to be a father. I don’t want to be a father.
Just three moons after his daughters, Pinekit and Tawnykit, were born, Shadowheart was killed by a rogue when she left the nursery on her own to stretch her legs. The guilt he felt was unbearable, and the only way he knew to suppress it was to throw himself into his warrior duties, just as he had when his mother died all those moons ago. He even found himself doing the apprentice’s work for them in his desperate need to stay busy.
Pressured by his cousin, Lakesong, he has awkwardly started to become a part of their lives. He still, however, struggles as a father and knows his daughters feel the same.
IV. THE UNDESERVING DEPUTY
No one was more shocked than Stagflight when Thievingstar chose him to be her deputy. After a tumultuous moon of death and sickness, and the demotion of Firfoot, the clan's former deputy, a huge weight was suddenly placed on his shoulders. A weight he didn't feel like he was equipped to carry.
Sure, he made a good deputy on paper--mentored at least one apprentice, a senior warrior in the clan who had never strayed from the code, never shirked his work. He was even the grandson of Froststar, Thistleclan's former leader. Leadership was in his blood.
But he had failed to be a father to his daughters--how could he be a father-figure to his clan? Deciding whether he should hunt in the east or the west on a given day was a paralyzing choice--how could he make decisions about daily patrols, or worse, whether he should send his clanmates into battle?
To make matters worse, not long into his deputyship he was given the most unruly apprentice he'd ever had--Jaypaw, Yewthorn's daughter. She never listened, never paid attention, never showed a shred of respect for him. He had never been a fitful sleeper, but between Jaypaw and his new duties, he hardly slept at all.
V. A TERRIBLE SECRET
In the middle of a snowstorm, far from their makeshift camp, Thievingstar gave birth to three kits--two living, one stillborn. Only Stagflight, Morningmist, and a rogue called Aster know about the kits' biological parents--the Thistleclan leader and an ex-Lichenclan tom called Nightclaw. To the rest of the clan, they are Yewthorn and Morningmist's adopted kits, orphans found abandoned in the snow.
Initially angry and confused by his leader's decisions, it was hard to stay upset with her for long. She shut down, the spark in her eyes dimmed and her sharp tongue dulled. She had broken the code, but what did it matter if Nightclaw was dead and her kits were separated from her? So long as he kept her secret, she'd keep the clan's respect.
VI. STAGSTAR
WIP
The grandson of Froststar, Stagkit was the only kit born to Deerleap and Pansyflower. His older cousins were all out of the nursery before he was even born, and so he became very close with his mother and father.
While his cousins heard stories of the greatness of Froststar, Stagkit got a very different version of history from his father and Froststar’s son, Deerleap. According to him, Froststar was a weak leader who betrayed Thistleclan by taking a tom from another clan for a mate, then lying about it for moons upon moons. Stagkit quickly learned that he couldn’t trust any cat, not even his own leader.
Despite being the only kit in the nursery, he never felt lonely or bored. He was very close to his mother and father, and as a result, matured more quickly than the average kit. They always had interesting stories to share or news to report, which to Stagkit, beat silly old kit games any day.
II. STAGPAW: Big Toms Don’t Cry
As an apprentice, Stagpaw made few friends due to his suspicious and distant nature. Even when he felt more comfortable with his new denmates, he never knew what to say to keep a conversation going.
To make matters worse, shortly after his 9th moon he lost one of the only cats he was close to - his mother, Pansyflower. She came down with a sudden bout of white-cough, and things happened too quickly for Stagpaw to process. One day he was telling his mother about his latest successful hunt, and the next she was just barely clinging to life in the medicine cat’s den.
He looked to his father to tell him what to do and how to react, Deerleap offered no comfort or guidance. So Stagpaw went on doing the only thing he knew to do - go on with his training, and work hard to be the best warrior he could be.
Despite this, Stagpaw was dedicated to his training and earned his warrior name at twelve moons old. He was fast on his feet and known for catching birds right out of the air. Before his warrior ceremony, he brought down a hawk near the northern peninsula. It was a lively chase. The hawk was injured but trying to flee, and the young red warrior was gaining quickly. With an impressive leap, he brought the bird of prey down before swiftly delivering the final blow with his jaws. He stood over his difficult catch with pride for only a moment before his body was racked by sobs. Burying his face in the hawk’s feathers, he wailed like a mewling kit until he was able to compose himself and start dragging the catch back to his mentor, who had been hunting on the other side of the territory.
It was the one and only time he allowed himself to grieve.
III. STAGFLIGHT: You ARE The Father!
As a warrior, Stagflight came to detest grandfather's peaceful leadership even more. Froststar made Thistleclan too weak, a laughingstock in the forest compared to the other two clans. As a warrior, he became convinced that Thistleclan should join the war on Redwoodclan’s side to overcome Lichenclan in order to show their superiority and strength. Eventually, he even found a few other warriors who shared his beliefs and started forming his first real friendships with other cats his age.
But even with new duties and new friends, Stagflight still made the time to visit his father in the elder’s den often. Deerleap had been distant after Pansyflower’s death, but retiring had softened him somewhat, enough that he was grateful for his son’s company.
When he was around thirty-five moons of age, Froststar passed from green-cough. While he wasn't particularly 'glad' that Froststar was dead, he was hopeful that his grandfather’s successor, Thievingstar, would be more aggressive under her leadership.
Not long after, his father passed from what the medicine cat claimed to be natural causes. Part of him was relieved that his father had passed peacefully, unlike his mother, but it was still painful. With no immediate family left, he’s allowed himself to become a bit closer with his cousins, particularly Lakesong.
Close to his fortieth moon, he went on what seemed like an ordinary patrol with his Lakesong, her new apprentice, and Shadowheart, a she-cat he didn’t really know and didn’t care to know.
Shortly after they left camp, Lakesong’s apprentice cut his paw on a sharp rock, and the pair went back to camp to have the medicine cat take care of it. Unsure of what to do, Stagflight started to follow his cousin, but Shadowheart beckoned him back with her tail. “What, we’re just going to end this patrol to tend to an apprentice’s little scrape?” Surprised, Stagflight didn’t respond, but followed her deeper into the pine forest.
“Nice catch!” he mewed as Shadowheart pinned a frog that had suddenly jumped out from the surrounding bushes. The she-cat snorted, then chuckled a bit. “I don’t know why I caught it, I hate frog! They’re just so...slimy.”
Stagflight racked his brain for something witty or funny to say (why was he trying so hard to be witty or funny, anyway?), but all that came out was “I’ll eat it.”
“Be my guest,” Shadowheart mewed, pushing the creature toward him. Stagflight gulped - he hated frog too, why had he said that? But he couldn’t back down now. He bent his head to eat it, taking a few rapid bites to get it over with, but he failed to suppress an audible gag. Shadowheart erupted in laughter, and Stagflight couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“Come on, let’s head over to the waterfall so you can wash out your mouth. We can check the Redwood border while we’re down there.”
Feeling uncharacteristically spontaneous, Stagflight made a beeline for the river. “Last one there’s a rotten frog!”
He was fast, but she was faster - she beat him by several fox lengths, giving her enough time to turn around and splash him with water from the river. Looking around to make sure his clanmates, or worse, a Redwoodclan patrol wasn’t nearby, he jumped into the shallow water with her. He chased her to the waterfall, and to his surprise, she slipped behind it. He followed her into the rocky shelter, the cascade of water sparkling by the light of the sun.
“Have you never been back here?” She mewed, her voice trembling slightly. He was trembling too, but he didn’t want it to stop.
“No, I...I usually stick to the border line."
"Really? Aw, come on, where's your sense of adventure?" Her voice was still low, and her tail brushed his back ever so slightly.
The Redwoodclan border was not checked that day.
Whether it was embarrassment or uncertainty, Stagflight and Shadowheart avoided each other after that day. Their sudden and intense chemistry had shocked them both, so they were even more shocked to discover Shadowheart was pregnant. Terrified, Stagflight quickly broke off the relationship. Hurt and confused, Shadowheart became hostile toward him and distanced himself from the nursery. He didn’t even see his kits the day they were born - he spent that day high up in the owl tree, looking out at the vast lake and beating himself up for making such a careless mistake.
He didn’t see his daughters until they took their first stumbling steps out of the nursery. For a second, he felt a flicker of pride, but it was immediately snuffed out by fear. I’d just mess them up if I got involved. I’m not meant to be a father. I don’t want to be a father.
Just three moons after his daughters, Pinekit and Tawnykit, were born, Shadowheart was killed by a rogue when she left the nursery on her own to stretch her legs. The guilt he felt was unbearable, and the only way he knew to suppress it was to throw himself into his warrior duties, just as he had when his mother died all those moons ago. He even found himself doing the apprentice’s work for them in his desperate need to stay busy.
Pressured by his cousin, Lakesong, he has awkwardly started to become a part of their lives. He still, however, struggles as a father and knows his daughters feel the same.
IV. THE UNDESERVING DEPUTY
No one was more shocked than Stagflight when Thievingstar chose him to be her deputy. After a tumultuous moon of death and sickness, and the demotion of Firfoot, the clan's former deputy, a huge weight was suddenly placed on his shoulders. A weight he didn't feel like he was equipped to carry.
Sure, he made a good deputy on paper--mentored at least one apprentice, a senior warrior in the clan who had never strayed from the code, never shirked his work. He was even the grandson of Froststar, Thistleclan's former leader. Leadership was in his blood.
But he had failed to be a father to his daughters--how could he be a father-figure to his clan? Deciding whether he should hunt in the east or the west on a given day was a paralyzing choice--how could he make decisions about daily patrols, or worse, whether he should send his clanmates into battle?
To make matters worse, not long into his deputyship he was given the most unruly apprentice he'd ever had--Jaypaw, Yewthorn's daughter. She never listened, never paid attention, never showed a shred of respect for him. He had never been a fitful sleeper, but between Jaypaw and his new duties, he hardly slept at all.
V. A TERRIBLE SECRET
In the middle of a snowstorm, far from their makeshift camp, Thievingstar gave birth to three kits--two living, one stillborn. Only Stagflight, Morningmist, and a rogue called Aster know about the kits' biological parents--the Thistleclan leader and an ex-Lichenclan tom called Nightclaw. To the rest of the clan, they are Yewthorn and Morningmist's adopted kits, orphans found abandoned in the snow.
Initially angry and confused by his leader's decisions, it was hard to stay upset with her for long. She shut down, the spark in her eyes dimmed and her sharp tongue dulled. She had broken the code, but what did it matter if Nightclaw was dead and her kits were separated from her? So long as he kept her secret, she'd keep the clan's respect.
VI. STAGSTAR
WIP
