Shiver

Rouge

male tortoiseshell with green eyes

Certainly distinctive, many firstly mistake him as a she-cat. He is that rare male calico, made from a genetic anomaly. His pelt is burnt orange, insterspaced with shades of black and rings of brown along his shoulders and pelt. Along his face is perhaps his most striking feature, a large black cross is set in the space down his nose and across his eyebrows. Near his backside, the black takes more prevalence, splotching along his back legs.



He stands at average height at a foot tall and is noted for the thickness of his limbs and the broadness of his body. His wide shoulders taper into stocky legs, ending in dense paws. His tail of average length, and also of larger circumference, mirroring his round back.



His ears are pointed and sit near the side of his angular head. A ring of black surrounds his emerald green eyes , and underneath them, flat cheeks sit behind a defined muzzle. His nose is black, his long, wiry whiskers protrude from them.

Personality: Adventurous, Clever, Industrious, Duplicitous, Brash,



Shiver doesn't really care what rules one lives their life by. He does care though that those rules are defined if one is to work with him. He believes that ultimately, the universe is a transactional, self-balancing system, in which all actions have an appropriate fee for realizing.



This is important as it is the root of his industrious nature. If everything is a trade, then the exchange requires parameters that define the value. Contracts are how Shiver gets his way in the world, and he offers himself up to any and all sort of task for other on that basis. Simple work requires little more than a verbal agreement, and he's happy to prune the wild shrubs that harm dwellings, and deliver food to those who pay for the convenience. Harder and more involved work might need some collateral in exchange, or in many cases, a seat at the client's table. Information, pretty trinkets, and good times are all tendered, as is prey and shelter



He feels a cat should earn his living, and like any other cat, he has his pride and empathy, but ultimately, if the price is right, he'll take the job. This makes him no stranger to unsavory tasks, and most of what allows him to live well has been jobs for maniacs and malcontents, but it has allowed him to live well.



His mercenary lifestyle and has taken him to all sorts of places around the islands. He isn't hostile by default, and spends social time boasting about his escapades. If not on the job, will try to rope other cats on adventures to find treasures, or explore other locales, often to twoleg ruins and to the shorea where the odd bit of flotsam can be found. He has a nearly mythical fascination with the two legged creatures and the works of their odd-paws, and will jab the ear off of any who engages him in the subject.



Shiver has a reputation of unreliability among those that know him, not for lack of skill or track record, but because they know that his loyalty is to the highest bidder. He's backstabbed others and turned other cats over, due to being offered a better deal before, and if it suites him. It's a mystery as to his allegiance at any given time, but if he shows up with ill intent, he announced his intentions with a simple phrase:



"I'm here on business"

Shiver doesn't remember much of his childhood. It consisted of wanting milk from his mother, and receiving little back but trickles and remarks about how a boy wouldn't be able to pass as calico, moon after moon. He stuck around this cat until he could handle the basics of living, until one night he slept beside her fur, and woke up to it gone, with no scent and no markings to follow.



With no name and no family, he wandered for awhile. He got to know the lay of the land, and managed to avoid the larger beasts that sometimes sought him, but around his sixth moon, he had a very strange experience. On the shore, he encountered beings that he would come to know as twolegs. Their vessel had run aground, and he marveled at the way they manipulated it, their odd paws gripping the landscape and bending it to their will. While they worked unaware, he caught the scent of food from an odd sac, and he was able to latch on to a cylinder and drag it away. In awe at it's design, he fiddled until the weird see-through leaf popped off. The fruit inside was salty, crisp, and delicious. He was soon satisfied, but also soon stuck. Contention turned to panic as he ran about with the cylinder stuck to him. Soon the darkness became blackness. He thought his short life was over.



Waking up, he found his body in an uncontrollable shake. When it subsided, he could see the face of a twoleg, watching over him. The kind being spoke tongue that was both understandable and unknowable, but what was more telling was how they watched him through each shake for the next few days. He ate, slept, even saw the glow of a stone that showed him Soon, another vessel took them away, leaving him alone once more, but alive.



The young tom soon found that there were more cats in the region than he thought. Some took pity on him, and let him perform menial tasks in exchange for scraps of food. He did this gladly, and soon gained a reputation as someone who could be at least somewhat trusted, and found no real need of a name as he was memorable in appearance.



The memorable and honest were often targets. He'd cleaned the den of a tom who'd turned out to be the leader of a small gang, warring with another, and the job was a ruse to trap him. They treated him horribly, forcing him to train brutally and laughing at his lingering injury, his only reference, a diminutive "Oi', you shiverin' mess!" Even though he was young, he accompanied the trio of rouges to raid and steal from others, building up their resources to overtake their rivals. He also did his first clan raid with them, roughing a warrior and their apprentice for the location of the days catch. They got away, but not without an injury that took a moon to heal. Enough was enough. At his 10th moon, he let himself get captured during one of their raids, and he let spill all the information about his original captors whereabouts. Their leader asked his name in return and misheard him when he explained.



"Shiver? Well, welcome to our little enclave, Shiver."



The battle was quick. The others had been driven out, and camp destroyed. Shiver got an idea. After a scout, he found that half sunken wreck still on the shore, and he led his new friends there. This would go on to become his home and base for seasons. To wherever he trekked, he returned here,

Over the next season, Shiver and his band would grow in strenghth and reputation. He also began his collection, first with stuff lying about, then with items recovered from jobs. The hull became a place where he entertained any and all who wanted to see his collection and get his services. He didn't allow fighting on his territory, but he did allow information to flow freely.



While most of the adventures he had came from other rouges, his largest came from a clan itself. Of his favorite were the things he could carry from old piles of twoleg ruins, things that sometimes he found, and soemtimes coerced out of the mouths of clan cats. While there were things to find, it was too dangerous to move slowly in Thistleclan. Not all was lost, and word of mouth told him that there were things to find among the redwoods too.



While Thistleclan was beset by foxes and other rouges alike, Shiver found openings in their ranks that would allow would make riskier crossings, otherwise taking the safer route near the sandbar. A few raids went by, and he began to notice something. Where once the patrols were dangerous and hardly gave up their prey, they now gave up their stuffs with ease and shrunk before him. This was curious, as he knew Redwoodclan was one of the most powerful forces in the forest. After conferring with his band, he left them to watch over his boat, and the next time he made the crossing, he allowed himself to be 'captured' and brought before Heatherstar.



Shiver met with their leader, and after getting the lay of the situation, he offered to catch prey for them and give her remaining warriors instruction in combat. In return, he wanted to be able to roam their territory, supervised, when searching for twoleg artifacts. Hard pressed by the winter and with little in the way of a fighting force, Heatherstar agreed. Those warriors and apprentices that were well enough to defend the territory joined him in battle drills and training. He was no formal trainer, but he taught them based on his experiences in the rough world he grew up in, and it seemed to mesh well with the techniques Redwoodclan used. Sometimes, he would bring one of his trinkets to show them as well.



When he made the trip back, his fellows at the boat often tempted him to make off with their remaining prey and herbs, but he began to gain a fondness for the heart and hope they exuded. As well, among these was a young warrior called Icesong, who fought with all the underhanded ferocity of a rouge, and flirted like one too. With a she-cat to leverage his sterility, prey, and space away from the tyranny of the pine cats, he found the deal worth going on with.



While he was attending to his classes, a new threat arose in the north, pushing a family toward the shores near his boat, and pulling his band away from him. The cats that were once his compatriots, now were to Curiosity. Near the end of his time with the clan, he learned that they were planning to attack him on his return home. Return he did, backed by his contingent of warriors. They foolishly had followed him beyond the borders, and he figured it would make a nice final exam, as he knew that the Lichenclan warriors they would face would easily outclass the riff-raff Shiver was used to. He drove them across the sandy creek into Thistleclan territory, where he figured they would have a nice time returning to the campgrounds.



While fighting with them gave him a small understanding of the way the clans worked, and the honor they derived from their code, it was far from his contract based life he had built. It was enough however, to make an impression. The last time she would ever see Heatherstar, he told her that he would honor his word, to never raise a claw against Redwoodclan again.



He returned home, now the sole maintainer of the wreck. He continued his life of adventure, meeting the rouges, and taking work for them, even for curiosity once or twice, as he wasn't afraid to sell him the information of clan targets or other rouges when it suited him. those that wished to keep stay with him paid in food for the privilege for as long as they did. Life was good, and he maintained this balance for a good while



One of the visitors to his wreck was a young cat named Hawthorne. He enjoyed hearing the stories that Shiver had to give, and it was nice for him to be able to spin his tales and hear the travels of another young adventurer. Once, they were talking, until he suddenly got apprehensive, and hastily left. Soon after, Curiosity appeared, wanting to know anything about some runaways that he had tracked nearby, describing the adventurer that was frequenting his boat. He had taken a liking to the kid, but more importantly sensed an opportunity, and lied to him about his appearances. When next they saw each other, he had him explain his situation. Shiver offered to keep his secret, if there was anything he could add to his collection.



He had none, but the Hawthorne had seen a few things in his own explorations. Twoleg sites were ancient, far and wide, so in return for silence, he accompanied Shiver to a few places where there were most interesting artifacts indeed.



Soon, he was the visitor to the family living in the northern caves. Lily, Hawthorne, Oleander, a striking she-cat named Sophie. He and she instantly hit it off, being even more taken to the tales that he spun. He began to see them as good neighbors, and allowed them to share the company of the boat whenever they pleased. He kept their secret and to Lily's chargrin, became fast friends with Hawthorwne, even going so far as to attend him after the death of his mother.



All good things come to and end, and it did with one of the of the largest storms in the islands. Waking up to a rising tide, he soon found himself floating, and the smell of something that was foreign, something from the bowels of the ship hit his nose. the walls began to shift around him, and he felt the rumbling as the wreck became unseated from its position. He jumped out of the hull and waded to shore along with those that sought shelter with him.



It listed to bring one of its protrusions upward, and the lightning decided that it would be an ideal place to strike. A shockwave pulsed through him and he watched in horror as a fireball engulfed his home and his collection, slowly extinguishing itself as it slid further into the lake.



Since the boat was taken form him, and crossing to the redwoods has been more dangerous, he has found refuge with Lily and her gang. He enjoys reminiscing about the older days again, but still considers himself independent, and waits for the day when he can claim a territory as his own and re-establish his museum.