Lakesong

ThistleClan

fluffy flame-point she-cat with sea blue eyes

Lakesong’s body is mostly hidden by a coat of bright cream tipped with points of fiery orange, but underneath the dense, warm fur is a nice mix of the traditional, long tubular body of her grandfather Froststar’s Siamese ancestry. Her legs also have the length of a Siamese, but they seem thicker and with bigger paws, likely from her father Warblerwing. She usually moves with a gentle grace, fluffy tail held high and slightly curled at the end, but has no trouble quickly dropping into position to lunge at an enemy and show them there’s muscle under her fur.

Her fur itself passed down from her grandparents to her mother, Dizzledance. They’re almost the spitting image of each other. The red points on her muzzle, ears, legs and tail spill into the light cream covering the rest of her soft coat. Tabby stripes can be found anywhere the red touches. This doesn’t tend to help much when hunting, and Lakesong hates covering up her lovely pelt, but sadly she would likely catch far less prey if she didn’t roll in some mud. She just wishes it didn’t take so long to groom the mud out of every hair.

The she-cat’s face heavily points to her Siamese ancestry with its wedge-shaped head, though the mix of other mixed breeds of cat softened out the edges to give her a less chiseled look than a full blooded Siamese. Her eyes are a brilliant, deep shade of blue that resembles the sea, yet despite their cool color they seem full of warmth. At the very tip of her muzzle is a pink nose that comes close to blending in with the orange of her face, the tabby stripes framing the eyes above and drawing attention to the stark contrast between them and the rest of her.

Loving: There’s a big heart under all that fur. It’s fairly obvious that this is amplified most towards her family, and even her late brother Pheasantclaw and her cousin Stagflight are genuinely loved. That doesn’t stop her from telling someone they’re being stupid, though, because even though she loves them if they’re wrong, they’re wrong.

Motherly: On top of that big heart, she has a strong maternal instinct that seems to extend to pretty much everyone. While she’ll still place her family above everyone else, she has no issue comforting others within the Clan and offering them a listening ear.

Protective: Lakesong will fight for those she loves, at times blindly leaping into danger before thinking it through. Even though there are cats within the Clan she disagrees with, she doesn’t feel anyone should die pointlessly and will still come to their aid. Beware causing mental or emotional harm to her family, however—it’s not just her claws that are sharp.

Open-minded: Unlike most of ThistleClan, she finds that it’s fine that not everyone has the same beliefs or even lives in a Clan. She’s far more likely to try to talk down a stranger than start a fight. If they turn out to be friendly and share some of their life story, that’s a bonus to her.

Impulsive: This generally kicks in when something has suddenly happened, such as if a dumb Twoleg started prancing through the pines, where she would without hesitation launch herself onto them to keep them away from the Clan. She tries to be a bit less impulsive with her words, but it doesn’t always work.

Short-tempered: Lakesong tries to be patient, but when a cat is stupid, they’re stupid and she can’t help but explode on them and tell them exactly why she wants to rip their ears off.

Blunt: To go along with her short temper, she has no problem telling things like it is. Was sneaking out of the camp to go track down a bobcat in the area a bad idea, apprentice? Yes, it was, and now she’s going to explain exactly why it was.

Passionate: She’s incredibly passionate about her beliefs, especially those revolving around the idea that not every cat is bad just because they’re from a different Clan, the Tribe, or don’t belong to one at all. Lakesong also feels deeply that both a mother and a father should help raise their kits, with each taking interest in the lives of their children. It does not matter if these beliefs might eventually get her killed, she will continue to insist on them.

Fierce: While her name may seem soft, her ferocity in battle is like the waters around the islands in a vicious storm. She has cats to protect, feeling responsible for each cat around her when their territory and kin are threatened. She will do whatever is necessary short of purposely killing to keep the Clan safe.

Kit:
Lakekit and her brother Pheasantkit were born to Drizzledance and Warblerwing. Drizzledance was a lovely flame-point cat that had learned from her father, Froststar, the importance of accepting cats even when they did not reside in ThistleClan. Her tabby father, Warblerwing, didn’t quite see things that way and neither did Pheasantkit, who stayed set in the old “mistrust outsiders” mentality. While they still played as kits, having a rather normal kithood, by the time they were six moons old it was plain to see that the two would never be close siblings due to their differing beliefs. This was only driven home farther when Drizzledance sat them down about a moon before their apprentice ceremonies to tell them of Lakemask, Froststar’s secret mate in LichenClan. Lakekit was awed and honored to be named after Lakemask, but the revelation just pushed Pheasantkit farther away.

Apprentice:
Lakepaw was an eager apprentice, ready and willing to learn. She was a good hunter, but her real talents shone in her battle moves. She was quick to react and her claws homed in on their target, though when put into actual battle, it became clear that she would put herself in danger to protect her Clanmates, impulsively leaping in to aid them if she thought they were about to get hurt. Possibly the only reason there aren’t any scars visible on her is the fact her long fur hides it.

During this time she and Pheasantpaw also became more distant as he began to taunt her for every little thing. Their parents tried to scold him, but it did no good. One of his favorite jabs was at how Lakepaw was so easy to spot, “it’s a wonder you’re any good as a warrior at all!” Within a few moons she had had it and Pheasantpaw learned her tongue could be just as sharp as her claws. “If only you got looks and talent, then maybe you’d be half as far into your training as me!” Their quarrels only got more heated from there, nearly costing them their warrior ceremonies when the time came.

Warrior:
Lakesong and Pheasantclaw rarely spoke as warriors unless forced to on a patrol. Neither ever tried to patch up how things had gone. As far as both were concerned, it was better that way.

Her life as a warrior was as everyone else’s; having to fend off hostile Clan cats, keeping things like foxes away from camp, keeping everyone in the Clan fed. Things didn’t start to really get that interesting until around the time she was thirty-six moons. Lakesong had decided to go hunting near the northern cliffs, where she could be alone with her thoughts and not have to deal with any of the other cats that wanted to remind her that all cats outside of ThistleClan were untrustworthy. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the jump she was making wasn’t long enough, causing her to slip and land on her front left leg. A sharp pain coursed through it all the way down her spine, and she sat there for a few moments trying to catch her breath. She cursed herself under her breath for being mouse-brained enough to let her thoughts make her careless.

Hobbling to her feet, she tried to make her way home. It was a journey with a sprained paw, but she was determined to get back. She was only a quarter of the way there before a strange she-cat appeared, calling for her to wait. Lakesong’s fur and tail fluffed up. She didn’t want to fight like this, but she knew she couldn’t run when even now every step hurt, no matter how much she tried to keep weight off the paw. “Who are you?” she asked instead, eyeing the she-cat slowly approaching her.

“Aster,” the cat replied. “You’re hurt; let me help you.” The she-cat’s eyes were warm, hopeful. A sight Lakesong didn’t see much in the eyes of warriors.

She was reluctant. This cat could easily injure her further or kill her. There were many things that could go wrong. Then her thoughts brought her the image of her mother, Drizzledance; her grandfather, Froststar; and then of Firebriar, the she-cat that had Froststar’s kits so that he and Lakemask could have a family together. She was sure they would have given this she-cat a chance, and reluctantly she finally agreed to follow Aster. Aster turned out to be pretty good at setting paws and even better at being amiable. This lone cat out here was showing her a kindness that barely existed within ThistleClan. By the time a few days passed and her leg was able to handle her weight again, she was certain that not every rogue cat was a cruel, heartless being.

When she returned to camp and explained what had happened, more than a few of her fellow warriors weren’t happy about Aster having been at the cliffs. They insisted on hunting her down and running her out. Lakesong protested, but she knew they wouldn’t listen, which was why she had already warned Aster to leave before they got there. By the time they followed Lakesong’s trail back to Aster’s little camp, the loner was long gone. The only memento of that day remaining was a bit of arthritis that would afflict her joints in the leg when the weather was bad.

Not many moons after that, her cousin Stagflight was the father of two kits, Pinekit and Tawnykit. They were such adorable kits. Lakesong couldn’t understand why Stagflight abandoned them so quickly, but she seemed to have trouble finding him for the first three moons of the kit’s life. Unfortunately, that was when their mother, Shadowheart, was murdered by a rogue. By this point, Thievingstar had replaced Froststar and Thievingstar had made some recent threats towards the rogues. Lakesong already hadn’t been happy about Thievingstar becoming leader; now she blamed the black she-cat for the murder of her second cousin's mother. Lakesong began to check on them as regularly as she could after that and finally managed to find Stagflight and begin pressuring him into being a father to his kits. He’s awkward around them, but she hopes he’ll eventually get made into a half-decent dad.

At around forty moons, her long rivalry with her brother came to an end. Foxes had decided to become a nuisance once again and Pheasantclaw had been a casualty in the fight. To the surprise of may, she did actually come forward when his body was laid in camp for the Clan to mourn. She whispered to him, inaudible to those around, “I’m sorry you never had a life where you could believe there was good in others.” Then she left and allowed the others to say their goodbyes.

Now she lives her life trying to figure out how to subtly steer the Clan away from murdering every rogue they see. She’s convinced Thievingstar is far too impulsive in her decisions to demonize those outside the Clans and even those in other Clans. Lakesong is but a single cat, though. What she can do is limited.