Post by owl on Mar 23, 2021 11:07:06 GMT -6
lakefire
thistleclan
small and semi-longhaired red mackerel tabby colorpoint molly with bright blue eyes
senior warrior
cisgender molly
73 moons
Appearance
i am smiling at strangers like i usually will
Lakefire is by no means a large cat, though she is average sized by Thistleclan standards, as she is about only about 8 inches (20 cm) tall at the shoulder. She shares her grandfather's muscular and compact build and weighs about 8 lbs (3.6 kg), slightly heftier due to her muscle. Though she lacks the slender build most associate with grace, the way she holds herself and draws attention is something similar.
Her plush fur is medium-long, it neatly smooths out her body and makes her appear very round. Her coat is dense and waterproof, almost like duck feathers. Don’t be fooled, she can pack a punch no matter her innocuous appearance. She doesn't often get twigs or leaves stuck in her coat, but she will occasionally coat herself in dust to blend in better with the environment. Never mud, because it would take her moons to get it out. She doesn't care too much about how she presents herself overall—and she's confident enough to pull it off.
Most of Lakefire's coat is a creamy white color, with reddish tabby points that are darkest on her face, tail, and along her spine. Her legs are rather pale for a point, more of a cream than a red color. There are very faint stripes down her sides, indicating that she displays mackerel tabby markings. During leaffall and leafbare her coloration darkens slightly due to the colder temperatures. She does not have a speck of white spotting on her, not even the paler muzzle that tabbies tend to have.
Her head is rounded in shape, with a longish muzzle— her mother always says that she has her grandfather's face. Her eyes are slightly almond shaped and a vibrant blue color, snappy as the winter sky. Her nose is surprisingly pale pink and her whiskers are long and white. She has a fairly rough voice, though it can soften as just as much as it booms. She smells sharply of pine, as do many Thistleclanners, but there is a hint of smokiness too. Lakefire occasionally has a small limp in her right front leg from when she sprained it.
ll, BB, XOXO, Dd, aa*, Mcmc, spsp, tata, ii, cscs, ww
*she's a nonagouti red, but displays mackerel tabby
*she's a nonagouti red, but displays mackerel tabby
Personality
like a cat with a canary who will surely fit the bill
+ open-minded, responsible, independent
Lakefire was taught to be accepting from the start, and she's accepted that! She's willing to look at things from another point of view, and do her best to step into another cat's pawprints. She tries to be as kind as possible towards others, but with her temper that is difficult sometimes. Most of her acceptance has blossomed as being openly friendly towards cats outside of her clan, when the majority of Thistleclan is irritable even to their clanmates.
She is a responsible and hardworking individual, and though she always has been it was nourished by her mother's high expectations for her. She was always pushed to do her best and keep her promises. In a clan of suspicious and mistrusting cats, most know that Lakefire is as trustworthy as you get. Sparking from this is her self-sufficiency, she does well on her own and often prefers to work by herself. Though this means she will refuse help even when she needs it.
- headstrong, outspoken, irascible
Lakefire might be small, but she's as stubborn as a badger. She won't back down, even when it means dying on her hill. It makes it almost impossible to change her mind on something she has rooted opinions on, and contrasts harshly with her otherwise gentleness. Lakefire is incredibly outspoken about her ideas and what she believes in, and when she's fired up she doesn't hold back. She will always be honest, but whether she is gentle or blunt varies depending on her mood.
Unfortunately, that mood is ever shifting, as Lakefire is quite short-tempered. It doesn't take much prodding to make her angry, and though most of her days are good ones she does have the occasional no good very bad day. She burns bright but she doesn't burn for very long, her clanmates can find some solace in knowing that she usually cools down quickly and returns to her amicable self.
loves: Teaching (as long as her students are respectful), sparring, fresh nests... beetles (yes, for eating).
likes: Berries, strong pine sap smell, leaffall, toads.
dislikes: Rules, dandelions, hunting, stepping on pine needles.
hates: MUD, yuck!!
secrets: Lakefire doesn't think she has any secrets.
fears: Drowning.
dreams: To nurture a family of her own and get her clan to be just a little bit more accepting of outsiders. See her little cousin-daughters flourish.
History
and i wonder if she knows—what am i thinking? i got too much to do
Lakekit was born in a litter of two to her mother Drizzledance, father Warblerwing, and younger brother Pheasantkit. Lakekit was close with her mother, but her father wasn't in the picture. He wasn't unkind, he was just never really around. She spent a lot of the beginning of her life trying to prove herself to her father, something she knows was a waste of time now. She doesn't regret it, it was a lesson she had to learn.
Her mother was the daughter of Froststar, Thistleclan's leader. Lakekit had been named in memory of Froststar's secret forbidden lover, Lakemask. He had been killed after it was discovered he was meeting someone at the border, though they never found out it was Froststar he was meeting. Froststar had spoken about him to his children, Drizzledance and Copperclaw had accepted him immensely but Deerleap? Not so much. Lakekit herself wasn't sure how she felt about that at first… why was she being named after some long dead tom?
But as she grew older, she understood. She was proud of her namesake, proud to be named for someone who her grandfather cared for so. She badgered her grandfather to tell her stories about Lakemask, and wanted to become a good and kind warrior like him. Be brave enough to love someone, do something even if you knew your clan wouldn't approve. Be brave enough to die for it.
This instilled the belief in Lakekit that every cat deserved a chance. She shouldn't judge them because they were in a different clan from her, or even if they weren't part of a clan at all. They all wanted the same thing, and if you treated them with kindness... then they would treat you with kindness back. The way the other kits in the nursery talked about rogues made her fur stand on end. But none upset her as much as her brother.
Pheasantkit wasn't very accepting towards his grandfather's cross-clan relationship nor rogues, perhaps because he was envious of all the attention it brought his sister. Either way, he was just as stubborn as she was and wasn't going to back down. As they aged they both became more polarized in their beliefs. They grew apart as they grew up, but Lakekit never minded—she had a bunch of friends to hang out with, ones that were more open to change. And if they didn't, well, she'd change their minds.
Lakepaw was apprenticed to a more traditional Thistleclanner, and though they were aware of Lakepaw's outspokenness they never tried to dissuade her. She was still trying to impress her father at this time, so she put as much work into her training as she could. As with any 'paw, she despised cleaning out dens and busywork, but she knew her mentor would have her pelt if she complained. Her mother too—Drizzledance hadn't raised her to be disobedient.
Drizzledance, as she shared her daughter's paler coat, had prepared her for some teasing. Pheasantpaw had a deep red coat, and though it wasn't exactly the norm either, he was dark enough to hide within the pines. Lakepaw was proud to look like her mother and her grandfather. She'd show her clanmates that it didn’t matter… except she really did not like hunting. And she was no good at it. It was just because would sometimes jump too soon sometimes... most of the time. Her mentor had never ending patience with her, but it wasn't enough to make her enjoy it. It was unpredictable in a not fun way, not like how fighting was.
Regardless of her struggle in some subjects and accomplishment in others, Lakepaw earned her warrior name with little trouble. She became Lakefire for her blazing spirit and unwavering warmth. Her brother became Pheasantclaw, for his battle prowess. She wasn't about to brag, but... she had definitely gotten the better name. A fresh new warrior, she was ready to take the clan by storm. Her whole life was ahead of her, and she couldn't wait.
Life continued without incident for a number of moons. Lakefire began to visit the nursery sometimes to play with the kits and give their parents a break, and really enjoyed it. Maybe she would get an apprentice soon? She had always seen kits in her future too, but not until she was sure she was ready. She continued to try and get her clanmates to be more open towards rogues, but was never very successful.
A turn of the seasons or two into her warriorhood, Lakefire finally had something interesting happen to her. She was hunting around the cliffs in the northern part of Thistleclan territory when she overshot a jump and landed funny on her front right leg. She was determined to hobble her way back to camp, but even though she wasn't putting any weight on it, it hurt like a dog.
That wasn't even the most interesting part. A cat appeared out of the forest and offered to help, and Lakefire had adamantly refused before even realizing that this cat wasn't part of her clan. Then, her curiosity was piqued. Why were they offering to help someone from a group who hated them so? Maybe rogues were kind-hearted after all. Or at least, this one was.
Aster—that was the rogue's name—helped her to a den just outside the border and told her to rest. Lakefire was reluctant at first, but she'd give her the benefit of the doubt. The next dawn, her leg was feeling... better. A little. Aster had brought her some herbs, which she recognized from the medicine den. They chatted through the morning until Lakefire felt well enough to go back home. They bid one another goodbye in good spirits.
With a clearer head she was able to make her way back to camp. It was still quite a trek, but not as hard as she thought it would be to only use three of her legs. When she returned to camp, she was immediately ushered to the medicine den. Many questions were thrown at her by a worried mother and friends. She had said that she had camped out in the territory for the night, but later told her mother about the outsider she met. Thankfully, she had just sprained her leg and not broken it. After half a moon of nest rest, she was back to her duties.
This was where her life really started to pick up. Just a couple moons after her leg healed, she was given an apprentice to train. His name was Rainpaw, and she was so excited to teach him. Rainpaw was not as enthused. It took a very long, frustrating two moons to get him to open up and put actual work into his training. After that, it was all smooth sailing. Aside from the fact that he really liked hunting... but no need to dwell on that. He became Rainflight, and she was so proud of how far he'd come.
While Lakefire was dealing with an apprentice, many other things were happening in her life. Froststar had lost his final life and Lakefire and Drizzledance were in mourning. A second loss struck them not long after the first, and surprisingly, it hit Lakefire just as hard. Her brother was killed in a skirmish with a fox, dying as he lived. It hurt her more than she thought it would... maybe because she always dreamed of mending the relationship they never really had, when they were older. But now that dream was gone. Maybe when they were both up in Starclan... but not while they were both alive.
This made her attempt to reconnect with other members of her family, most notably her cousin, Stagflight, the son of Deerleap. He was a bit awkward, but they got along well otherwise. Until he let it slip that he had sired a litter that he had no intention in helping to raise. She could understand... partially. Lakefire's own mother had raised her and her brother alone. Stagflight didn't know what it was like to have an absent father—especially if they knew who he was and thought he didn't care. She knew what it felt like first paw.
She urged him to meet his daughters, at least let them know that their father was there for them if they needed. He remained wary. They didn't even know his name. She had met Tawnykit and Pinekit herself, and she would be proud of them if they were hers. She had always wanted kits. How could Stagflight not want to get to know them, take care of them, love them, his own kin?
Then their mother died. Strong Shadowheart was murdered by a rogue. Lakefire's confidence in rogues being kind wavered that day, but she couldn't let it faze her. Stagflight still refused to step into his daughter's lives, but at least he told them who he was. At least. Lakefire took matters into her own paws: she would take care of Tawnykit and Pinekit, because they needed someone they knew loved them. They had had to grow up so fast... Lakefire did her best to nurture and encourage them.
Tawnypaw and Pinepaw are apprentices now, their father still not a large part of their lives. Helping to raise the pair only reminded Lakefire of how much she wanted to have her own kits, but she stifled that dream once more. The recent events have left Thistleclan faced with uncertainty, and Lakefire is faced with more than one surprise. She's doing her best to help her clan pull through, but nobody knows what is in store for them.
i've got no time to go running after dreams or chasing after you