Violetshade

LichenClan

An oriental lynx point she-cat with stunning blue eyes.

There is nothing particularly imposing about Violetshade. Though she carries herself with the self-assured poise of a queen, she lacks the hardened muscles and lithesome gait of a warrior, and a similarly unmarred coat speaks not of a life of hardship but privilege and abstinence. Instead, she is nothing if not graceful—slender and dainty in appearance with long, angular features that have not entirely given to gauntness but bear an appealing softness about their edges. Her ears are large atop a regally sculpted head, her limbs are long and elegantly bowed, and her tail is long and thin.

In coloration, she is more in the likeness of a typical LichenClan warrior. Bearing her mother's soft blue lynx points, her coloration is altogether pale but appealing, further accentuated by two bright blue eyes.

ab·sent | /ˈabsənt/ | showing a lack of attention to what is happening or being said : not attentive || Perhaps to save herself the hardship of thinking or perhaps a general and personal inattentiveness—whatever the cause, Violetshade has never been known to be one who exists within the present. Her thoughts are oft astray, captivated by distant thoughts and imaginings that make her seem more a wistful youth than a mother of two kits. It is perhaps one of the many reasons she has remained so ignorant for so long.

meek | /mēk/ | quiet, gentle, and easily imposed on; submissive. || Raised of the belief that a queen should only assert themselves in the nursery, Violetshade can hardly stomach the thought of confronting anyone, even if at her own detriment. As such, her nature is as submissive as they come; it is not customary to see her ire, even less to see her speak above her usual, quavering timbre.

guile·less | /ˈɡīlləs/ | devoid of guile; innocent and without deception. || Where others may delight in the act of deceit, Violetshade considers it a heinous act. She speaks plainly, frankly, and with a certainness that would stir in some a certain nostalgia to their younger moons. Indeed, Violetshade is not one to lay bad intentions on many, herself vying instead to give the benefit of the doubt even where it is not owed, earned or deserved.

sin·cere | /sinˈsir/ | free from pretense or deceit; proceeding from genuine feelings. || Of her feelings, she has always been painfully honest, and in displaying them even more so. She considers herself one who wears her emotions plainly and unabashedly on her sleeve and does not shy away from the vulnerability that comes with expressing oneself, even if it would lower her in the eyes of her peers.

in·quis·i·tive | /inˈkwizədiv/ | curious or inquiring. || Though she does well in not challenging the status quo, Violetshade has always been fascinated by the life she feels herself having been ‘saved’ from. What must it be like to go on patrols and stalk prey, to lock bodies with foes on the battlefield? Though an apprentice once, such rememberings feel long ago and distant; however, on rare occasions, she finds herself inquiring on the habits of those who live lives so much different from her own and finding in those isntances of curiosity an insistent longing.

com·pas·sion·ate | /kəmˈpaSHənət/ | feeling or showing sympathy and concern for others. || Never can it be said that Violetshade was not suited for the role she came into. She feels strongly for those around her, especially the younger generation, as only a mother can, and envelops all in feelings of unjudgmental security and care. To many, she is an attentive ear in times of strife, and when advice is needed, she offers it as best she can.

loy·al | /ˈloi(ə)l/ | giving or showing firm and constant support or allegiance to a person or institution. || Her loyalty has and always will lie within LichenClan. She cannot imagine herself having been raised anywhere else, and as such holds the custom of her people with a certain reverence and pride despite all it has denied her. As such, she performs the traditions of her Clan without complaint and heeds the word of authority without question, for what else should she do?

hum·ble | /ˈhəmbəl/ | having or showing a modest or low estimate of one's own importance. || One to downplay their own successes rather than languish in them, although Violetshade is not truly without merit as a warrior, she is not one to fixate on her skills, instead opting to cast them aside as if they never existed so that she might live more comfortably in her dormant life. To her, it only seems appropriate—a queen has no need for bragging. She has nothing to prove.

ma·ter·nal | /məˈtərnl/ | denoting feelings associated with or typical of a mother; motherly. || To all, even those older to her, there is a certain motherly compassion of which she extends without question. She cares deeply for her clanmates and is known to spend what spare time she has stooped in hopeful prayer for their safety and good health. Especially to the Clan youths, Violetshade is a constant and watchful eye, herself having tended to many of them since they were suckling babes at their mother’s teat.

po·lite | /pəˈlīt/ |having or showing behavior that is respectful and considerate of other people. || Manners make a lady, and a lady Violetshade has always been. Manners are of the utmost importance when distinguishing one's character, she believes, and so minds them constantly and instills similar regard for such things in all those under her care. She is not known for rash words frustrated curses—instead, she feigns respectful indifference.

Father: Ospreyflight (npc)
Mother: Mallowfur (deceased)
Littermates: Saltwhisker (immortes | brother)

Mate(s): Salamandersong (deceased)
Offspring: Wavepaw (Caustic | daughter), Newtpaw (adoptable| son)

In the beginning, there was but a wistfulness. A gentle stirring, the tying of bodies, bound together by duty rather than anything in the likeness of love. And so she and her kin had been born forth—a she-kit connected to a tom she might call brother. And so they were named, hers being Violetkit, named such after the flowers her mother loved, and her brother named after the briny salt that tainted throats and left them parched.

And so they grew into the likeness of such names. Always she was fair and gentle, dainty as the flowers after which she’d been named, and beautiful. From her came nothing but demure words and niceties—the ones instilled in her by a mother who believed strongly in the poise of a she-cat and the importance of good conduct. And so she learned the importance of primness while her brother grew into his own name and grew coarse and cruel.

Two kits could not be so far apart, and yet they were, and it was a thing that was unchallenged by anyone. Her mother favored her a lady, and their father—that tom whose presence only lingered long enough to steep doting words on his son—favored his son a warrior. And so they grew further separate, and when their sixth moon approached, so too did they step forward with equally different sentiments on the matter of their ascension.

Violetkit did not think it any great honor. Her training was not her purpose—so her mother had expressed to her and so she had believed—and so she carried out her duties without comment or question, performing only as well as she needed to but never striving for the lofty commendations that came so naturally to her brother. Neither did she envy him his prodigious ways and talents or grow perplexed by her own shortcomings, but thought hopefully of the time when she would fulfill her destiny as it had been destined for her.

Then it was so that she was nothing if not mediocre, though she saw no harm or shame in that, and when she received her name of Violetshade alongside her brother, who was thus dubbed Saltwhisker, she felt nothing if not a desperate longing for the future she had longed for so desperately since she had mind enough to comprehend such things as her mother did whisper unto her. And so it came to pass that her searching reared fruitful results, and she had a tom upon which to dote, and so they courted, and so, too, did a significant mishap arise that left their family stricken and tense and unnatural.

Molefur, such was the name of the tom who their mother oft spoke of most fondly, but they had rarely had the privilege of meeting for any great time. It was a sudden and abrupt thing, what took him, and when the news was spread, it shook them considerably, for proceeding it came the ascension of a new leader, a she-cat by the name of Minnowleap.

Violetshade watched on as the happenings occurred, and as Minnowleap solidified herself among the Clans upper ranks, she felt a small twinge of longing that was but snubbed out by the restless stirrings of her mate. And so such stirrings were cast aside, and her mind was drawn towards the duty of which she had been destined and the family of which she was meant to rear. And so they locked themselves lovingly and passionately until her stomach did swell with new life and her heart soared with hopeful longing for what it meant for them both.

But it was not to be, and as her stomach swelled the lives within her grew restless, so much so that moons before their time they came into the world and were so birthed cold and still and without the life that had possessed them before. And so it came that her first litter was stillborn, that her sons and daughters were welcomed to an early grave and prayed over in somber silence, and her mate looked on disgruntled and disappointed, herself desperately willing to satisfy his craving for that which she thought herself to desire also.

And so it came to be that they found themselves coupled once more, that her stomach did quicken and another litter blossomed in her belly, and so it was that as their time came, they grew still and could not be born thus. And so she dwindled as did her mate, whose somber disposition only grew and his love for her became a distant thing.

It was only then after a great deal of time that they coupled yet again, moons later when the love betwixt them grew earnest and desperate for the dream they both intensely craved. And so it was that their efforts were greeted with open arms, that their prayers of which there was no due pause found the answers they sought, and she bore him two strong kits, two healthy kits—a daughter and son, fair as kings and queens. And she loved them, and so too did his love for her resurface as it once had, and they spent a pleasant time together and found comfort and activity in the litter so that their love only grew more and more fervent.

But that was also not to be, for no sooner had their family been born than a piece of it was taken and her mate lost himself in to the throes of combat and thus was returned to her limp and bloodied. And so she stood a quiet vigil over him with her kits and tow, bade them bow their heads and so sent him forth to the stars with whispered prayers so that his soul may rest easy there and watch over them from then on, and so it was done, and that chapter was closed and made room for her parenthood of which she took upon alone.

And what a parenthood it was! She had only ever known the duty of rearing kits in increments but found no freedom from her brood and so steeped herself in their development as best she could though it ailed her with her grief to do so. But it did not take long for her to admit her differences with her brood. Perhaps too infatuated with their father to view her with the same reverence, as they grew older, so too did they grow more independent and more detesting of her closeness and coddling, and so cast her aside for those that offered them the freedoms she snubbed with her smothering airs. And so lost to her was her son and so too did she lose her daughter, who detested her for what she was, but never did she leave them and so lingered and watched and waited idly as the world passed before her, barely noticed, barely acknowledged but for the soft and coddled comforts of the nursery.

Then came the time of which made her most anxious—their name days when they grew to be six moons, and their leader beckoned them forth to stand attention. And so she watched and felt a worm of worry wriggled there as their care was passed on elsewhere, leaving her alone to fester, and so great was the grief that she grew ill with melancholy and withdrew within herself so that she grew helpless and despondent and sought the comforts of her mother who had by then grown old and grey and weary.

Together they spent their days, idling and reflecting until they were stricken by a cold and malignant leaf-bare that loved them not. With it came a grievous sickness of which they thought themselves spared, but so old and frail was Mallowfur that she caved in to her illness and grew steadily weaker so that to utter words alone was a great and exhausting task. And so their last moon together was spent in watchful silence, Violetshade always at her side to administer the herbs she needed, her mother slowly withering but clutching stubbornly to life.

And when the light had all but ebbed from her, Violetshade felt within her steer a remarkable restlessness, and as she stood vigil over that freshly-churned grave felt it strike her again, and as she drew away, she felt a twinge of those old feelings that resented her mother’s fate and saw hope elsewhere, beyond the nursery that had bound them to such lives of mediocrity and idleness.

How she wished to plunge into it, but the fear that possessed her held her still, though longing, and so she has remained, although once again she has felt that great want tugging at her as whispers of war bubble on the lips of her comrades, rousing her from forty long moons of idling.