Post by tuesday on Jul 23, 2021 19:14:13 GMT -6
Ashtail
RedwoodClan
Longhaired gray and white tom with bright green eyes
Warrior
Tom
22 Moons
Appearance
Ashtail has a discernably disheveled look about him, as though he’s always just finished tumbling through a thicket. With bright, wide green eyes, he always looks a little entranced by the world around him, like he’s always seeing it from some exciting new angle. His long, gray and white fur is eternally unkempt, though there is something charming about the way he can never seem to get it to lie flat. His pelt has a faint tabby patterning along his legs and back, fading in to a gentle collage of pale colors on his chest and leading up to a dash of white across his nose and chin. His tail, long and feathery, is very distinctive, usually held high with a slight, quirky crook at the tip. He is tall, but sleek, with a lithe frame and a long, lean figure. His features are sharp but pleasant, with an inherent warmth to his expression that keeps his height from ever appearing imposing. There is a certain unhurried way about his movements, noticeable in his lengthy strides and the slow, wavy flicks of his tail with each step.
Personality
Above all else, Ashtail is a daydreamer. His head is always in the clouds and he's far more interested in whatever his imagination has cooked up rather than what's going on back down on earth. This can make him pretty forgetful, and he often has to be told to do something several times before it sticks. Still, he is an easygoing cat, and doesn't seem bothered when hassled about the responsibilities that slipped his mind. Though he has friends, he can at times be an unreliable and frustrating figure to have in one's life. He does his best to be a good friend, a good partner, but in the end he doesn't seem capable of really committing to anything or anyone, even if he knows he should. He's gentle, helpful, and friendly with others, but when it comes to deeper relationships and emotional connections, Ashtail usually falls short. He doesn’t lack self-awareness—he is certainly, sometimes painfully cognizant of his own faults. He simply finds it easier to never confront them, despite the guilt that can sometimes come along with not doing so.
Ashtail is always excited over the tiny wonders of the world, a trait that can rub off on those around him when he's caught up in the moment of finding something ordinary to be marvelous. The way the sun makes spotted patterns on the forest floor, or how every cat's laugh sounds unique, or the way the whole world looks different from the height of a redwood tree are endlessly interesting to him. This ability to make even the smallest of things or moments into something fun and memorable is one of his best traits, and he is an excellent companion for anyone in need of a bright spot in their day. However at the same time, all of this makes him far more concerned with the small details of life, rather than the bigger picture. It can be hard for him to think of anything on a macro scale, because in his mind no matter how much the world changes, sun spots on the forest floor will always look the same, and the laughter of his friends will always sound sweet, so those are the only things really worth paying attention to.
Ashtail seems content to go with the flow and see where that takes him, instead of fussing over what may or may not come to pass in the grand scheme of things. Though not overly excited about doing what authority figures want him to, he is still very accommodating simply for the sake of keeping the peace. He always prefers doing something he doesn't enjoy over getting into an argument. This can make him seem like a bit of a pushover at times, since he will almost always go out of his way to help someone when asked, even if he isn't necessarily friendly with them. Overall he's a pleasant little fellow and easy to get along with, but one has to wonder if there's really even anything he cares strongly about.
Ashtail is always excited over the tiny wonders of the world, a trait that can rub off on those around him when he's caught up in the moment of finding something ordinary to be marvelous. The way the sun makes spotted patterns on the forest floor, or how every cat's laugh sounds unique, or the way the whole world looks different from the height of a redwood tree are endlessly interesting to him. This ability to make even the smallest of things or moments into something fun and memorable is one of his best traits, and he is an excellent companion for anyone in need of a bright spot in their day. However at the same time, all of this makes him far more concerned with the small details of life, rather than the bigger picture. It can be hard for him to think of anything on a macro scale, because in his mind no matter how much the world changes, sun spots on the forest floor will always look the same, and the laughter of his friends will always sound sweet, so those are the only things really worth paying attention to.
Ashtail seems content to go with the flow and see where that takes him, instead of fussing over what may or may not come to pass in the grand scheme of things. Though not overly excited about doing what authority figures want him to, he is still very accommodating simply for the sake of keeping the peace. He always prefers doing something he doesn't enjoy over getting into an argument. This can make him seem like a bit of a pushover at times, since he will almost always go out of his way to help someone when asked, even if he isn't necessarily friendly with them. Overall he's a pleasant little fellow and easy to get along with, but one has to wonder if there's really even anything he cares strongly about.
History
The only child of a pair of young mates, tiny Ashkit was doted upon beyond belief. His father Thundersong, a massive, boisterous cat, was out in the camp just minutes after Ashkit was born, telling anyone who would listen what a fine young warrior his son would grow into be. His mother, Snowberry, was a bit more understated, but no less affectionate, spending every moment cooing over him and making up fantastical tales to lure him to sleep. Even at a moon old it was clear Ashkit was a spacey little thing, but Thundersong insisted he'd gain his footing someday. After all, Thundersong himself was a great warrior, exemplifying the fearless, loyal spirit of his clan, so surely Ashkit would be the same.
Yet if Ashkit ever was, Thundersong himself would not live to see it. He died in fight with a trespassing rogue cat, leaving Snowberry to raise their kit alone. She was still very young, and heartbroken over the loss of her mate, but was determined not to let her grief become more important than her duties as a parent. She did her best to soothe her own heart by telling Ashkit all of her favorite things about her departed mate, and all of the wonderful adventures he'd had. At the time of Thundersong's death, Ashkit was still a bit too young to really understand the gravity of what had happened. Still, he enjoyed his mother's stories and found himself increasingly curious about the big wide world Thundersong had so fondly enjoyed exploring.
As an apprentice, it quickly became apparent that Ashpaw was never going to be at the head of the pack. Clumsy and clueless, his mentor spent hours upon frustrating hours attempting to teach him even the most basic of concepts. He was, of course, teased relentlessly by the other apprentices for this, but at the same time the hapless young cat was friendly and fun, and it didn't take long for the teasing to turn into extra help from his peers. He quickly became close friends with another apprentice, though the two could be described as exact opposites. Capable, serious, and short-tempered, it was a wonder the pair got along at all. But Ashpaw could never fail to brighten his stern friend's day, and in return Ashpaw had a companion who kept him at least a little bit focused and more or less out of trouble.
Through the combined efforts of Ashpaw's mentor, the more helpful apprentices his age, and his best friend, he managed to graduate from his training at the late age of 15 moons. His exhausted mentor swore to never suffer through training an apprentice again and proudly sent Ashpaw—now Ashtail—out into the world as a full-fledged warrior. His mother and friends cheered their hearts out at his ceremony, but to his amusement Ashtail mostly saw relief in their eyes. Perhaps, they thought, he wasn't entirely hopeless after all.
Ashtail himself was apprehensive about his new responsibilities. He felt content to drift lazily through life, but being a warrior meant something. It was hard to drift when you were expected to perform duties and uphold the code. It was something he had no interest in, but he wanted to please his mother, his best friend, and everyone else who had a paw in his training, so he did his best to meet their expectations.
But at his core he was the same old Ashtail, and it became increasingly clear that he was just not a very good warrior. He was forgetful with his duties and subpar at the ones he did remember to perform. Snowberry's excuse from his apprentice days, that he would grow out of his winsome nature, no longer seemed to hold up. His father's old friends wondered what went wrong with him. It seemed he displayed few, or perhaps none, of the traits RedwoodClan favored. The many differences between Ashtail and his best friend, never a point of contention before, suddenly caused them to drift apart. What was he to do? Ashtail tried, at intervals, to be more responsible, more attentive, more everything, but his meager efforts were never enough, and this discouraged him from trying at all.
At 17 moons, now completely distant from his dearest friend but no less self-indulgent, Ashtail began to spend time with a she-cat over twenty moons his senior. Unlike many of his clanmates, she liked his silly, excitable mannerisms and did not seem to mind his lack of practical skills. Ashtail himself had never received this sort of attention from another cat before, and was more than happy to be caught up in her charms. But Ashtail's carefree ways became less endearing over time. When she tried to start discussions about their future together, about having kits and building a family, she was met with shrugs and noncommittal, vague half-plans. He was more interested in chasing fireflies than settling down with her, and so she broke it off only a few moons later.
To avoid any awkward interactions with his former mate, and to avoid the increasing number of disappointed looks from the senior warriors of the clan, Ashtail began to spend more time away from camp, exploring out in RedwoodClan’s territory. These were rarely productive excursions—it was hard to provide for your clan, or defend your borders, when you were too busy rolling in moss or watching birds play in a puddle. These outings began to exacerbate his worst qualities, and he shirked his duties more than ever before. As cats began to fall ill, Ashtail was often nowhere to be seen when serious help was needed. His conspicuous absences from camp were piling up. Eventually his best friend, who still quietly worried over Ashtail despite their distance from each other, decided to follow him out of camp and see just what the capricious warrior was up to.
A stern, loyal, hardworking cat, Ashtail’s old friend was mortified to discover that Ashtail was up to literally nothing at all. RedwoodClan had suffered so much throughout the illness that raged through the clan, and here was Ashtail, acting as though he didn’t have a care in the world. The two friends got into an explosive argument. Every shred of resentment and disappointment that had been building up since Ashtail's warrior ceremony was put out in the open, and if the two had been uncertain about the state of their friendship before, they could be sure it was over now. He was called a leech, a disappointment, a useless drain on their clan—and even Ashtail, spirited though he was, could not find the energy to object to any of it. Eventually there was nothing left to say, and Ashtail’s friend stormed off, fur bristling and face hot.
Though he’d averted any real repercussions for being, as his friend said, “a disgusting parasite feeding on the clan’s resources,” Ashtail felt he was being punished anyway. The argument was like a slap in the face, and a return to reality—this really was his life, and he really was not going to be able to live it the way he wanted to. The ways of his clan, as difficult as they were for him to follow, were not going to change, and he would have to find a way to fit in. His disappointed friend, his father’s old buddies, even his quietly embarrassed mother, they all had noticed exactly what Ashtail was and what he’d been doing—this was simply the first time someone chose to call him out. And the worst part was, he knew he deserved it. The fact that someday he would need to settle down, have kits, war with LichenClan, all because that was what a warrior does, tugged on him like an invisible weight. It was a future he was beginning to see an inevitable, and Ashtail suddenly found himself caught between wanting to live his life in a way that he found fulfilling, and living it in a way that made him actually worthy of his warrior name.
Yet if Ashkit ever was, Thundersong himself would not live to see it. He died in fight with a trespassing rogue cat, leaving Snowberry to raise their kit alone. She was still very young, and heartbroken over the loss of her mate, but was determined not to let her grief become more important than her duties as a parent. She did her best to soothe her own heart by telling Ashkit all of her favorite things about her departed mate, and all of the wonderful adventures he'd had. At the time of Thundersong's death, Ashkit was still a bit too young to really understand the gravity of what had happened. Still, he enjoyed his mother's stories and found himself increasingly curious about the big wide world Thundersong had so fondly enjoyed exploring.
As an apprentice, it quickly became apparent that Ashpaw was never going to be at the head of the pack. Clumsy and clueless, his mentor spent hours upon frustrating hours attempting to teach him even the most basic of concepts. He was, of course, teased relentlessly by the other apprentices for this, but at the same time the hapless young cat was friendly and fun, and it didn't take long for the teasing to turn into extra help from his peers. He quickly became close friends with another apprentice, though the two could be described as exact opposites. Capable, serious, and short-tempered, it was a wonder the pair got along at all. But Ashpaw could never fail to brighten his stern friend's day, and in return Ashpaw had a companion who kept him at least a little bit focused and more or less out of trouble.
Through the combined efforts of Ashpaw's mentor, the more helpful apprentices his age, and his best friend, he managed to graduate from his training at the late age of 15 moons. His exhausted mentor swore to never suffer through training an apprentice again and proudly sent Ashpaw—now Ashtail—out into the world as a full-fledged warrior. His mother and friends cheered their hearts out at his ceremony, but to his amusement Ashtail mostly saw relief in their eyes. Perhaps, they thought, he wasn't entirely hopeless after all.
Ashtail himself was apprehensive about his new responsibilities. He felt content to drift lazily through life, but being a warrior meant something. It was hard to drift when you were expected to perform duties and uphold the code. It was something he had no interest in, but he wanted to please his mother, his best friend, and everyone else who had a paw in his training, so he did his best to meet their expectations.
But at his core he was the same old Ashtail, and it became increasingly clear that he was just not a very good warrior. He was forgetful with his duties and subpar at the ones he did remember to perform. Snowberry's excuse from his apprentice days, that he would grow out of his winsome nature, no longer seemed to hold up. His father's old friends wondered what went wrong with him. It seemed he displayed few, or perhaps none, of the traits RedwoodClan favored. The many differences between Ashtail and his best friend, never a point of contention before, suddenly caused them to drift apart. What was he to do? Ashtail tried, at intervals, to be more responsible, more attentive, more everything, but his meager efforts were never enough, and this discouraged him from trying at all.
At 17 moons, now completely distant from his dearest friend but no less self-indulgent, Ashtail began to spend time with a she-cat over twenty moons his senior. Unlike many of his clanmates, she liked his silly, excitable mannerisms and did not seem to mind his lack of practical skills. Ashtail himself had never received this sort of attention from another cat before, and was more than happy to be caught up in her charms. But Ashtail's carefree ways became less endearing over time. When she tried to start discussions about their future together, about having kits and building a family, she was met with shrugs and noncommittal, vague half-plans. He was more interested in chasing fireflies than settling down with her, and so she broke it off only a few moons later.
To avoid any awkward interactions with his former mate, and to avoid the increasing number of disappointed looks from the senior warriors of the clan, Ashtail began to spend more time away from camp, exploring out in RedwoodClan’s territory. These were rarely productive excursions—it was hard to provide for your clan, or defend your borders, when you were too busy rolling in moss or watching birds play in a puddle. These outings began to exacerbate his worst qualities, and he shirked his duties more than ever before. As cats began to fall ill, Ashtail was often nowhere to be seen when serious help was needed. His conspicuous absences from camp were piling up. Eventually his best friend, who still quietly worried over Ashtail despite their distance from each other, decided to follow him out of camp and see just what the capricious warrior was up to.
A stern, loyal, hardworking cat, Ashtail’s old friend was mortified to discover that Ashtail was up to literally nothing at all. RedwoodClan had suffered so much throughout the illness that raged through the clan, and here was Ashtail, acting as though he didn’t have a care in the world. The two friends got into an explosive argument. Every shred of resentment and disappointment that had been building up since Ashtail's warrior ceremony was put out in the open, and if the two had been uncertain about the state of their friendship before, they could be sure it was over now. He was called a leech, a disappointment, a useless drain on their clan—and even Ashtail, spirited though he was, could not find the energy to object to any of it. Eventually there was nothing left to say, and Ashtail’s friend stormed off, fur bristling and face hot.
Though he’d averted any real repercussions for being, as his friend said, “a disgusting parasite feeding on the clan’s resources,” Ashtail felt he was being punished anyway. The argument was like a slap in the face, and a return to reality—this really was his life, and he really was not going to be able to live it the way he wanted to. The ways of his clan, as difficult as they were for him to follow, were not going to change, and he would have to find a way to fit in. His disappointed friend, his father’s old buddies, even his quietly embarrassed mother, they all had noticed exactly what Ashtail was and what he’d been doing—this was simply the first time someone chose to call him out. And the worst part was, he knew he deserved it. The fact that someday he would need to settle down, have kits, war with LichenClan, all because that was what a warrior does, tugged on him like an invisible weight. It was a future he was beginning to see an inevitable, and Ashtail suddenly found himself caught between wanting to live his life in a way that he found fulfilling, and living it in a way that made him actually worthy of his warrior name.