Post by jagdhund on Nov 1, 2020 20:02:03 GMT -6
CHARACTER NAME
CLAN NAME
SHORT DESCRIPTION - SHORT!
RANk
gender
age in moons
Appearance
- DESCRIBE CHARACTER STATURE
- DESCRIBE CHARACTER PELT
- DESCRIBE CHARACTER FACE
- DESCRIBE CHARACTER PELT
- DESCRIBE CHARACTER FACE
Personality
- DESCRIBE POSITIVE TRAIT 1
- DESCRIBE POSITIVE TRAIT 2
- DESCRIBE NEGATIVE TRAIT 1
- DESCRIBE NEGATIVE TRAIT 2
- DESCRIBE POSITIVE TRAIT 2
- DESCRIBE NEGATIVE TRAIT 1
- DESCRIBE NEGATIVE TRAIT 2
History
"Where are my kits?!" The tom demanded, his tail lashing against the cold air. Magpienose had started her kitting during the wee hours of the morning, awakening the camp with her yowling inside of the burrows they took ages to construct and maintain. The sun had climbed and descended from the skies, leaving a curious absence of the stars above as clouds blocked their light. "They told me she stopped crying out! Where is she? Is she alive? She...Are my kits still breathing?"
"Father?" Comorantkit asked one day, looking up at the tabby that was always by her side. "What are the other Clans like?"
"Yeah!" Coldkit piped up from their nest, scrabbling to meet her bigger sister's side with a light chirp. "What are the other Clans like? Some of the other kits were talking about how you went to the Gathering with the others!"
Smallstream didn't answer for several moments, staring out into the camp with a wistful look. Comorantkit frowned. All of the other fathers in the camp seem so happy and played with their kits, but Smallstream rarely engaged with them besides to watch over them in the cold. "But then again," she conceded, "most of them have their mothers too."
But the tom finally exhaled. "There's two other Clans beyond our pine forest." He answered, looking down at the owl-like gazes of his kits. "RedwoodClan, and LichenClan."
"They already sound weird." Coldkit made a face. Comorantkit's tail twitched and she glared as her sister. "Shh!"
"RedwoodClan shares the most border with us. They're loyal and good cats, but half of them don't know how to take a joke." Smallstream wrinkled his nose. "They're also very rigid and can't think of a clever plan to save their fur. We have an advantage over them in that regard."
"So they don't have big pine trees or shadows to play in, dad?" Coldkit squeaked out. "That's boring!"
Comorantkit's ear twitched in thought. "Maybe. But it also gives us some weakness. We're too used to fighting in close quarters that if we stumbled into their territory, we wouldn't know what to do."
Smallstream looked away, a hard expression crossing his face. "And then there's LichenClan. They're a bunch of sea-lickers who act like they are more important than the whole of the forest, and they can't think for themselves."
"Ha!" Coldkit grinned. "Dumb LichenClanners!"
"If they don't think for themselves, who thinks for them?" Comorantkit asked, frowning.
"StarClan." The growl in Smallstream's voice was unmistakable now.
Comorantkit tilted her head. "You told us there was only two Clans, father. What's StarClan?"
His claws flexed against the ground. "StarClan is their religion, Comorantkit. They believe that when a cat dies, they join their loved ones in the stars. Some even believe that they can do strange things, like send storms and omens, and heal cats of their sickness. Medicine Cats are supposed to take signs from them."
"But it's all lies, my daughters." He snapped his head back to them, eyes wide with wildfire light. "StarClan will only take away the cats you love. They took away your mother. Don't let them take away you both. Promise me this!" The tabby warrior lowered his head to be on their level. "Promise me!"
Comorantkit and Coldkit shrunk down into their nest, staring at their father nervously. Comorantkit was the first to speak up. "I-I won't, Father." Coldkit only nodded, any answer dying in her throat.
The strange light in Smallstream's eyes faded, and he let out a rusty purr. "Good. I swore to your mother I was never going to let them take you away. Now we all can keep our promises together."
"From this moment on, until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Comorantpaw."
Comorantpaw held her head up high, feeling the electricity in the air. After the coldest leafbare and newleaf upon them, she was finally going to start her training! She looked over at Coldpaw, who was looking equally as excited standing next to her mentor Buzzardpelt.
"Who am I going to get as a mentor?" Her black paws kneaded the ground in excitement. The molly watched her leader look around the assembled cats until one caught their eye.
"Honeyflower."
"What? No!" Comorantpaw cried internally. "Not Honeyflower! I'm never going to be strong if she mentors me!"
The black molly looked back to the older one, her eyes tracing by the silver hairs beginning to appear on her muzzle. Honeyflower had been a permaqueen most of her life before she suddenly took back up the warrior mantle in her older moons. Many believe that she would be retiring to the elders den soon.
But not soon enough in Comorant's opinion.
"Comorantpaw, get back here!" Honeyflower's scratchy vocals pierced through the misty air, but the black-and-white apprentice did not look back at her. Her picked up her pace and skirted through the prickly pines until a golden form loomed in front of her past a large trunk. Comorantpaw flattened her ears. "Fox, she's still so fast."
"I am going to be telling the leader about your terrible behavior." Honeyflower growled, glaring down at the apprentice despite being almost her height. "It has been three moons and your lack of respect is a blight upon ThistleClan!"
"Respect for you." Comorantpaw retorted icily. "If you can look past your own muzzle, you've noticed that I've been perfectly polite and kind towards the others. It's you, who should have been put in the elders den long ago, that I have contempt for."
Honeyflower sneered. "You will learn to respect me. I've trained many apprentices and fine warriors, and none of them have ever been as much of a pain in the tail as you! If I knew how much of a lousey apprentice you would turn out to be, I would have retired and let the Clan force you to take care of me!"
Comorantpaw flattened her ears, letting the two fall into a tense silence. But before either could continue their argument, another warrior burst from the bushes, panting heavily.
"Thistle...ThistleClan is having a meeting!" They explained. "They're setting up a battle patrol for LichenClan's border! I.." They paused. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No." Honeyflower and Comorantpaw spoke at the same time, both pushing past the cat to get to the meeting.
The Clan gathered in silence to mourn the death of Honeyflower, taking care to cover the large gash in her throat that had ended her life. Comorantpaw stayed close to the procession, head nodded down in silence and taking care to keep her emotions in check.
Relief and envisioning a future with no future roadblocks on her path was inexcusable with the given company.
The she-cat was quickly ushered away towards the dens, Coldpaw murmuring soft, pitiful words of encouragement and how 'everything was going to be okay'. It took the older she-cat about half of her energy to keep from bursting out into laughter right then and there.
"Yes. Tomorrow's going to be even better once I receive my new mentor."
"Put more effort into it! I will not have a soft-hearted daughter in ThistleClan."
Comorantpaw's shoulder burned like fire reigning through her veins. Two more moons had passed since Honeyflower perished in the battle against LichenClan, but despite the change in mentorship she was already leaps and bounds ahead of where she was prior. When Smallstream was made his apprentice out of convenience's sake, there was little objection. Every other non-family warrior who was ready for an apprentice already had one.
And Smallstream was one of the better warriors, in her opinion. He would never lead her astray. Right?
WIP - Smallstreams death at the end of apprenticeship, Comorantpaw's promise
WIP - Comorant and Cold get their warrior names
"Comorantpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Comorantflight. We honor your strength and cunning, and we welcome you as a full warrior in ThistleClan."
Comorantflight closed her eyes, basking in the wave of celebration. It was almost enough to disrupt the pang of loss as she thought of Smallstream's death. He had died in a battle against a dangerous fox that had haunted the eastern area of the pines, but she liked to believe that his spirit was somewhere, watching her.
It's not like he could go to StarClan.
She opened one eye to see her sister. Coldsting beamed back at her, and pressed her shoulder against the other warrior's. "We did it, Comorantflight! We're finally warriors! We can go outside on patrol when we want, and hunt over in the marshes, and-" The other she-cat babbled on excitedly, but the black-and-white molly tuned her out.
The easy work was over. Now the hard work had begun.
WIP - Comorant proves herself and gets an apprentice, Volepaw
WIP - Comorant's harsh training with Volepaw, mirroring Smallstream.
WIP - Comorant pushing away suitors, while Cold gets friends easily.
WIP - Comorant and Cold's fight and breakdown.
The medicine cat turned their head away, silent for only a moment before speaking in a soft tone. "Smallstream. They..It's a harsh leaf bare, and we've all suffered many hardships to get through it." They began to speak. But the small gray tabby pushed his way past them. "Smallstream! Wait, don't-"
His frozen form halted her words. He knew, and he could never unsee it.
The black-and-white molly almost looked like she was sleeping, the breeze flowing into the den ruffling her fur. Smallstream's eyes darted between each movement, hopeful, wistful for any sign of life. Any sign that his darling Maggie did not drift off into the afterlife where he could not follow. "Magpienose." He said slowly, a broken noise among the still air. The tabby stepped closer, and he caught the unmistakable scent of blood and milkscent. "Magpienose, don't leave me! Please!" He ran over to her side, cradling her body and pressing his head against her dark fur. "You promised me! You promised me you wouldn't let Greencough take you from me! You said that StarClan would save you!" He dug his claws into the damp moss, howling out his anguish into her pelt.
In the silence that ensued, that was when he heard it. A tiny squeak, followed by an even tinier, shivering wail.
Smallstream opened his rust coloured eyes and moved some of the moss. Two kits huddled against the cold corpse, pressing against their mother blindly and wailing their hunger and chill. He quickly huddles around them, careful to keep them away from his belly. "My kits. My beautiful, beaitful kits.." The tabby sniffled, pressing his head against them. "I won't let StarClan take you like they took her. I will raise them to be stronger than the stars, Magpienose."
The black-and-white molly almost looked like she was sleeping, the breeze flowing into the den ruffling her fur. Smallstream's eyes darted between each movement, hopeful, wistful for any sign of life. Any sign that his darling Maggie did not drift off into the afterlife where he could not follow. "Magpienose." He said slowly, a broken noise among the still air. The tabby stepped closer, and he caught the unmistakable scent of blood and milkscent. "Magpienose, don't leave me! Please!" He ran over to her side, cradling her body and pressing his head against her dark fur. "You promised me! You promised me you wouldn't let Greencough take you from me! You said that StarClan would save you!" He dug his claws into the damp moss, howling out his anguish into her pelt.
In the silence that ensued, that was when he heard it. A tiny squeak, followed by an even tinier, shivering wail.
Smallstream opened his rust coloured eyes and moved some of the moss. Two kits huddled against the cold corpse, pressing against their mother blindly and wailing their hunger and chill. He quickly huddles around them, careful to keep them away from his belly. "My kits. My beautiful, beaitful kits.." The tabby sniffled, pressing his head against them. "I won't let StarClan take you like they took her. I will raise them to be stronger than the stars, Magpienose."
"Father?" Comorantkit asked one day, looking up at the tabby that was always by her side. "What are the other Clans like?"
"Yeah!" Coldkit piped up from their nest, scrabbling to meet her bigger sister's side with a light chirp. "What are the other Clans like? Some of the other kits were talking about how you went to the Gathering with the others!"
Smallstream didn't answer for several moments, staring out into the camp with a wistful look. Comorantkit frowned. All of the other fathers in the camp seem so happy and played with their kits, but Smallstream rarely engaged with them besides to watch over them in the cold. "But then again," she conceded, "most of them have their mothers too."
But the tom finally exhaled. "There's two other Clans beyond our pine forest." He answered, looking down at the owl-like gazes of his kits. "RedwoodClan, and LichenClan."
"They already sound weird." Coldkit made a face. Comorantkit's tail twitched and she glared as her sister. "Shh!"
"RedwoodClan shares the most border with us. They're loyal and good cats, but half of them don't know how to take a joke." Smallstream wrinkled his nose. "They're also very rigid and can't think of a clever plan to save their fur. We have an advantage over them in that regard."
"So they don't have big pine trees or shadows to play in, dad?" Coldkit squeaked out. "That's boring!"
Comorantkit's ear twitched in thought. "Maybe. But it also gives us some weakness. We're too used to fighting in close quarters that if we stumbled into their territory, we wouldn't know what to do."
Smallstream looked away, a hard expression crossing his face. "And then there's LichenClan. They're a bunch of sea-lickers who act like they are more important than the whole of the forest, and they can't think for themselves."
"Ha!" Coldkit grinned. "Dumb LichenClanners!"
"If they don't think for themselves, who thinks for them?" Comorantkit asked, frowning.
"StarClan." The growl in Smallstream's voice was unmistakable now.
Comorantkit tilted her head. "You told us there was only two Clans, father. What's StarClan?"
His claws flexed against the ground. "StarClan is their religion, Comorantkit. They believe that when a cat dies, they join their loved ones in the stars. Some even believe that they can do strange things, like send storms and omens, and heal cats of their sickness. Medicine Cats are supposed to take signs from them."
"But it's all lies, my daughters." He snapped his head back to them, eyes wide with wildfire light. "StarClan will only take away the cats you love. They took away your mother. Don't let them take away you both. Promise me this!" The tabby warrior lowered his head to be on their level. "Promise me!"
Comorantkit and Coldkit shrunk down into their nest, staring at their father nervously. Comorantkit was the first to speak up. "I-I won't, Father." Coldkit only nodded, any answer dying in her throat.
The strange light in Smallstream's eyes faded, and he let out a rusty purr. "Good. I swore to your mother I was never going to let them take you away. Now we all can keep our promises together."
"From this moment on, until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Comorantpaw."
Comorantpaw held her head up high, feeling the electricity in the air. After the coldest leafbare and newleaf upon them, she was finally going to start her training! She looked over at Coldpaw, who was looking equally as excited standing next to her mentor Buzzardpelt.
"Who am I going to get as a mentor?" Her black paws kneaded the ground in excitement. The molly watched her leader look around the assembled cats until one caught their eye.
"Honeyflower."
"What? No!" Comorantpaw cried internally. "Not Honeyflower! I'm never going to be strong if she mentors me!"
The black molly looked back to the older one, her eyes tracing by the silver hairs beginning to appear on her muzzle. Honeyflower had been a permaqueen most of her life before she suddenly took back up the warrior mantle in her older moons. Many believe that she would be retiring to the elders den soon.
But not soon enough in Comorant's opinion.
"Comorantpaw, get back here!" Honeyflower's scratchy vocals pierced through the misty air, but the black-and-white apprentice did not look back at her. Her picked up her pace and skirted through the prickly pines until a golden form loomed in front of her past a large trunk. Comorantpaw flattened her ears. "Fox, she's still so fast."
"I am going to be telling the leader about your terrible behavior." Honeyflower growled, glaring down at the apprentice despite being almost her height. "It has been three moons and your lack of respect is a blight upon ThistleClan!"
"Respect for you." Comorantpaw retorted icily. "If you can look past your own muzzle, you've noticed that I've been perfectly polite and kind towards the others. It's you, who should have been put in the elders den long ago, that I have contempt for."
Honeyflower sneered. "You will learn to respect me. I've trained many apprentices and fine warriors, and none of them have ever been as much of a pain in the tail as you! If I knew how much of a lousey apprentice you would turn out to be, I would have retired and let the Clan force you to take care of me!"
Comorantpaw flattened her ears, letting the two fall into a tense silence. But before either could continue their argument, another warrior burst from the bushes, panting heavily.
"Thistle...ThistleClan is having a meeting!" They explained. "They're setting up a battle patrol for LichenClan's border! I.." They paused. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No." Honeyflower and Comorantpaw spoke at the same time, both pushing past the cat to get to the meeting.
The Clan gathered in silence to mourn the death of Honeyflower, taking care to cover the large gash in her throat that had ended her life. Comorantpaw stayed close to the procession, head nodded down in silence and taking care to keep her emotions in check.
Relief and envisioning a future with no future roadblocks on her path was inexcusable with the given company.
The she-cat was quickly ushered away towards the dens, Coldpaw murmuring soft, pitiful words of encouragement and how 'everything was going to be okay'. It took the older she-cat about half of her energy to keep from bursting out into laughter right then and there.
"Yes. Tomorrow's going to be even better once I receive my new mentor."
"Put more effort into it! I will not have a soft-hearted daughter in ThistleClan."
Comorantpaw's shoulder burned like fire reigning through her veins. Two more moons had passed since Honeyflower perished in the battle against LichenClan, but despite the change in mentorship she was already leaps and bounds ahead of where she was prior. When Smallstream was made his apprentice out of convenience's sake, there was little objection. Every other non-family warrior who was ready for an apprentice already had one.
And Smallstream was one of the better warriors, in her opinion. He would never lead her astray. Right?
WIP - Smallstreams death at the end of apprenticeship, Comorantpaw's promise
WIP - Comorant and Cold get their warrior names
"Comorantpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Comorantflight. We honor your strength and cunning, and we welcome you as a full warrior in ThistleClan."
Comorantflight closed her eyes, basking in the wave of celebration. It was almost enough to disrupt the pang of loss as she thought of Smallstream's death. He had died in a battle against a dangerous fox that had haunted the eastern area of the pines, but she liked to believe that his spirit was somewhere, watching her.
It's not like he could go to StarClan.
She opened one eye to see her sister. Coldsting beamed back at her, and pressed her shoulder against the other warrior's. "We did it, Comorantflight! We're finally warriors! We can go outside on patrol when we want, and hunt over in the marshes, and-" The other she-cat babbled on excitedly, but the black-and-white molly tuned her out.
The easy work was over. Now the hard work had begun.
WIP - Comorant proves herself and gets an apprentice, Volepaw
WIP - Comorant's harsh training with Volepaw, mirroring Smallstream.
WIP - Comorant pushing away suitors, while Cold gets friends easily.
WIP - Comorant and Cold's fight and breakdown.