Shadow face

lichen clan

long-haired, tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

In comparison to most Lichenclan comrades, Shadowface's pelt is large. Generous fluffy feathers stagger from her mane, chest, and belly. Her tail, feathery, billows like smoke intertwined in the muted oranges and coal colored splashes of her fur. Yet underneath the she-cat is a deceivingly supple figure. Like the classic Lichenclan build, Shadowface is lithe and long with muscles well attuned for swimming- though given the weight of her pelt it is unlikely to catch Shadowface entering the waters unless there's a clear advantage. Though upon it's tough the fur is not as thick as it appears. One's face will be led down the clouds of soft cotton into her form, falling, with little effort or searching. Textures comparable to a mother's nest's lining, or in some, thinner areas like silk, Shadowface's fur is only massive in appearance, spread with generous amounts of air only thickened to form-fitting gloss with the helpful accumulation of natural grease over time. After a dry from the abhorred swim, only moments to dry and a cumulous nimbus has engulfed her. 

Shadowface is a tortoiseshell. As previously mentioned she sports an array of light oranges. Her base is a dark granite, falling into ebony shadows with whispers of white howling at her mane and across her tail and black furs. Though, only on the mane is it stark where the moonlight will kindle a glow- otherwise, the whites weave into her pelt like a light leaf-bare dusting. 

Overall, Shadowface's face shape is a strong square with a chiseled jaw line framed by the tassels of her mane. Inside, hardened almond eyes dance a bright green. Upon her mottled maw, gums and nose obsidian, she sports a hardened, stoic expression. Shadowface's aura is often intimidating and unapproachable. Her ears are painted a pastel pink, though very dull in hue, which come to a feathered point with black jets of angled fur. The highest contrast in her face, besides the vibrant stare, is the splash of oranges and white smoke that kiss one side of her face and reach to dab her chin. 

Shadowface's whiskers are very thin with many following the same drooping direction. Almost reflective of spider's webs they hang, perhaps thinner than silk itself. The inner furs of her ear's follow a similar fashion though like her pelt have air to pad between- a thicker, more feathery appearance. 

Shadowface's voice is a low and sultry voice- a bit crackly. Like a earthy jazz musician's. She smells of birchwood and rosemary. 

A huntress by nature, perhaps Shadowface's prefix was foreshadowing for her nature to unfold. Dedicated, and patient, Shadowface will wait for seemingly eons before making her well-timed moves. With this presence and in turn, meditation, comes a sense of calm deliberat(e)ion. Though not necessarily cunning, or tactful, it is within these moments, waiting to blossom, that Shadowface formulates her strike- whether it be with claws or tongue. Because of the amount of time that she spends waiting and perceiving, once a decision is cast she will not retract. Like a forceful paw that strikes in mere milliseconds, she will not turn back on her motives and is overall, a stubborn cat.

Yet, typically those that have known her find her agreeable due to the nature of her solitude unaware of the inclement battles that rest layers beneath. There has not been much tension or turmoil in Shadowface's life until recently, so if solicited, the majority of her clan mates would likely report her as unremarkable- or to the more whimsical hearted, a mysterious loner. Shadowface has come to accept this- this notion that she is unremarkable. And within it, her self worth dwindles. 

In a clan so prized in perfection, Shadowface's short comings in battle has made her a source of social pariah from the start. Without a fighting spirit for the world that Lichenclan moves to seize- she has little confidence in herself after moons of berating. The seasoned warrior is incredibly hard on herself. Her internal monologue is almost more cruel than any comrade. In some ways this fuels her desires to over-perform which has led to burnouts but in some ways, helped her accelerate in her natural inclinations. Hunting, for forest game in particular, is a time of solace where Shadowface will feel the moments melt, and temporary peace to the demons that nag her. Having brought home generous amounts of fresh-kill from time to time- when met with compliments the she cat shies away, or becomes awkward. Yet, to the few that she allows to grow close, they will slow pry a resting oyster. Inside, the dedication of a thousand lifetimes. 

Lastly, Shadowface is a faithful cat. She has unquestioning reliance in Starclan and believes in her warrior ancestors cryptic, good will and natural order. For her, this faith extends to all cats beyond that of Lichenclan. With the influence of her temporary mentor, Briarfur, Shadowface has developed a sense of questioning and skepticism towards the Heronstar's line of religion and finds their motivations narcissistic and contradictory to the will of many who lived before them. She fears if these ideologies continue then the entirety of the starry skies will be swallowed by hateful, vengeful cats.

Shadowkit and Bramblekit were born allegedly to Spottedheart and a tom. The kit's only inklings of the night-roamers heritage were the rumors cast from pious voices. Spottedheart's parenting was often questioned during her upbringing. She returned quickly to her warrior duties, only retiring in the nest. From a young age Shadowkit became aware of the outside world and how it tantalized her mother's attention more than the care and comfort of their nest. Perhaps in yearnings for things she could not yet seek, Shadowkit was tentative to establish relationships in the suffocating nursery and longed for the gifts of the natural world. While the rest of the nursery's life paused in slumber, Shadowkit learned to wait. And wait, was what she did each night in anticipation for the interesting smells that carried on her mother's pelt. In these few moments shared between them, Spottedheart in deepened sleep, Shadowkit explored the orchestra of perfumes dreaming of the world that swallowed her mother come to each daybreak.

---

Shadowpaw was a reluctant fighter assigned to the Lichenclan extremist Troutfrost. Though his exterior was calm and collected, Shadowpaw became a personal post to browbeat in private. Troutfrost was never satisfied, let alone proud, of Shadowpaw, and she quickly developed situational depression and a demeaning internal dialogue. She thought it was a typical dynamic between apprentices and mentors due to her own shortcomings- she figured the issue was herself, not Troutfrost. One morning during battle training, the tom relinquished full fury of her half-hearted reluctance to fight- claws unsheathed, he tore into the she-cat and beat her mercilessly. However, his actions did not go unnoticed. A nearby dawn patrol was returning and witnessed what had developed into a brutal fight for the death. Shadowpaw fought with still a dampened heart, but the pulsating adrenaline of her life on the line. She waited for the right moment and, like a huntress, sprung. She had struck the jugular. Troutfrost was rushed to the medicine cat's quarters, where his bleeding was stopped in generous time. His recovery kept him down for a moon. In the meantime, Shadowpaw was assigned Briarfur, a secretive supporter of Egretfeather that condoned the heavy-pawed tactics of Troutfrost. Though it was unable to completely undo the toxic damage that Troutfrost and a neglectful childhood had damned her, she learned to focus within the madness and found that for some moments in time there was peace to this madness. She thrived in this peace, and patience was a virtue that the she-cat cultivated.

---

Briarfur defended that Shadowface become a warrior as soon as possible relying on the battle incident that had sent Troutfrost to bedrest. Sagestar obliged after a final assessment. Shadowstar often wondered if she had deserved it, or it was just the persistence of Briarfur- desperate not to return her to Troutfrost's teachings- that expedited her graduation. Regardless, Shadowface enjoyed warriorhood. She was able to contribute to the clan and the sense of duty was fulfilling to the she-cat. Hunting in solace beside Spottedheart became a routine that she enjoyed. They both shared a sense of understanding that was rare and appreciated- Shadowface did not need to be anything but herself, and present, to exist beside her mom.

Though, aside from her mother, she never quite grew close to those around her, even her brother Bramblestorm. Bramblestorm was well-liked and successful in Lichenclan. He was the bruiser and blood thirtsy warrior that Lichenclan adored, quiet unless prompted, but dedicated and took well to their cruel teachings. To make matters worse, once of his closest companions was Troutfrost. Shadowface found herself growing more distant until he was just another stranger. When their mother passed from malnutrition and green cough, they stood on opposite sides- eyes catching not once. Bramblestorm had kits come that very new-leaf and when all four were born still-born, something switched in the tom. Noticing the ghostly shell that had consumed him, Shadowface extended her company to Bramblestorm. She tried to be supportive and empathetic but was pushed away with conniving words and put-downs. All of his anger was angled at her. But Shadowface was patient- and persistent. A new kindle had emerged in her and Shadowface longed to be there for her brother in perhaps place of the hole left from her mother. It was one sided.

When Bramblestorm didn't return from the lake one day, she asked no questions. Rumors explored that perhaps she was the culprit- out of jealousy of his popularity and success- but they soon dissipated. There was no backing and Shadowface was unremarkable. Nothing stuck for long. She still wonders what happened to Bramblestorm and his happenings from time to time- perhaps more interested in the cat he would be now than then.

Her relationship with Briarfur had also dissipated.  As a young warrior Shadowface was interested in his beliefs in Starclan and the telling's of the Heron lineage. But Briarfur began to feel nervous. He was once her beckon of beliefs and knowledge, but seeing the impact and questioning that he had provoked in the she-cat, Briarfur kept his distance to not draw attention. He began to cold shoulder the she-cat and over time their relationship had transmuted from tellings and philosophy into the night- to curt words and unreturned eye contact on patrols. Briarfur died at the act of unknown claws. Shadowface never heard about his burial.

Shadowface learned quickly that anyone she was close to, or tried to be close to, would be gone. As she aged past the days of a young warrior, Shadowface learned that she could be civil and acquaintances with other cats but never to rely on them. Whether they were alive or dead, aggressive or once familiar, cats would change and she would be left alone. But here from the shadows she's watched and waited the scenes of Lichenclan unfold. Upon Minnowstar's reign, Shadowface had grown increasingly concerned about her clan. With Briarfur's influence, she cannot agree with the views of Lichenclan that seemed for some, to pass through blood like tradition. Minnowstar's wrath only thickened these suspicions- that Lichenclan was going down a dangerous path. 

---

The gathering of 2019's leaf-bare was a catalyst for all that Shadowface was known, and unknown, to have struggled. There she met the flirty tom Yewthorn and was trapped under his fancy- no one had been so forward with her before, no one had "liked her"- all beneath the cloak of a raven saturated sky. Meanwhile the young tom Hemlock had made his debut from a mysterious island far off away and Minnowstar seized this moment with starclan spangled terror. But that night, the climax to her story was the promise of reconnecting with Yewthorn 7 moonrises later.

Though, these actions did not go unnoticed. Minnowstar grew suspicious of the she-cat and continued to watch Shadowface who had grown too close to the Redwoodclan tom, and too questioning of Minnowstar's calls. Shadowface was sent to the front lines of the Redwoodclan infiltration and met blood with a sunken chest and half-sheathed claws. The lesson to not grow close to others had consequences; hadn't she learned this before? 

But, it was too late. Shadowface bared Yewthorn's kits, two healthy boys and one stillborn. A tom who she had befriended at the time, with like minded ideology regarding Minnowstar's reign and the spark of a rebellion, suggested to father the kits on her behalf. Reluctantly, but with no alternative viable plans, Shadowface agreed. Shadowface harbors a lot of guilt over accepting this request as although it is the best thing for her children, and Quickstrike offered out of his friendship and compassion, she feels like she stole the tom's youth and has prevented him from experiencing normal life as a warrior. Shadowface continues to struggle with this concept.

Since the birth of Cresskit and Spiderkit, Shadowface had reconnected with Yewthorn. Yewthorn had taken on a new mate within his clan and moved on from their fantastical oasis. Shadowface told Yewthorn of their sons, and explained that Quickstrike was fathering them. Perhaps someday the truth would be revealed, but in the meantime, Shadowface wishes no ill upon Yewthorn. He is another connection lost in the winds of time. 

Together with Quickstrike, Lavendarmask, and Nightclaw, Shadowface contributes to the rebellion. She has found cats who were more like-minded like Briarfur and his teachings. The warrior is surrounded by a sense of familiar values and comradery she has never experienced but also continuously fears that at any moment, they will be drowned beneath Minnowstar's wrath. Unfortunately, Shadowface has not always been able to play it cool. With tensions already bubbling beneath her and Minnowstar, at a confession ceremony in place of the gathering, Shadowface's confession was a verbal critique of Minnowstar's rituals. She left her kits before the scene unfolded into a frenzy, perhaps impacting them for the seasons to come- like mother like daughter, Shadowface too was called back to the outside world. A world free of Minnowstar's selfish wrath. 

Now, as a seasoned warrior, Shadowface brings to her world of new mistakes a sense of patience and thoughtfulness only an aged warrior could. She still struggles between wanting the sense of belonging but acknowledging, it has only burned her in the past. These experiences create a wedge between Shadowface and her relationships and in turn, fester to create a sense of reslestness and frustration that can only be channeled in the greater situation at paw- the devastation of Lichenclan. Shadowface moves forward with the future of Lichenclan in mind, willing to put her and her families risk on the line despite the festering reluctance that grows beneath her. Torn between what is justice, what is love, and what is safety and security, Shadowface waits in the dark castings of the birchwoods for her next move.