viperthroat

redwoodclan

towering and longhaired black molly with deep amber-orange eyes

    Nearly a carbon copy of her father, albeit with longer fur, Viperthroat is a large cat whose size demands attention. With an imposing shoulder of 12 inches (30 cm), she's expected to grow at least another inch as she nears her second, and then third year. As, like the redwoods, large cats take their time maturing to full size. She is better described as stocky than tall, and her legs take up less of her height than most cats her size—she's simply large all around. With her broad shoulders and well-muscled body, she weighs close to 11 pounds (5.0 kg).

    Amongst the brighter palettes of reds and torbies, Viperthroat's dark coat stands out. It's more used to being seen in a clan like Thistleclan, not the proud redwood warriors. But she is Redwoodclan born and bred nonetheless, and she takes pride in the unorthodox color, as it matches her father's. Though it appears to be pure black at first glance, faint, almost smokey grey markings dance through her coat. Though she does not have the silver gene, her fur is tarnished and can subtly shift or shimmer in light. She never grew out of the fever coat she was born with, and it remains as ghostly markings to this day.

    Her fur is tangled and dense, roughened by the amount of dirt and forest debris that clings to it. She'd be messy for no reason other than to spite her sister, but adding to her coat's discoloration is a fine amount of dust, making it appear lighter. It falls smoothly off of her and gleams like an oil slick in the sun, due to her fur being slightly oilier than most cats. Her tail is long and plumed, and streaked with more grey than the rest of her coat. There is few times when she is thoroughly clean, and even then, she retains a perpetually rugged appearance.

    Like her siblings, she has more angular features but a broader muzzle, making for an odd amalgamation of facial structure. It is tied together by her tall, pointed, and narrow ears that sit proudly atop her head. The fur within her ears sweeps downward like inverted moons, and there is a split down the tip of her right ear—rending it into a pair of tips instead. Her eyes blaze like maple leaves in the fall, more orange in color than her father’s, but just as deep and striking of an amber.

    Viperthroat has large, wide paws with thick claws that allow her to climb trees and walk across deep snow with ease. She has fought her whole apprenticehood in order to gain control of them and use her body that seems built for battle to be honed for the hunt. She smells mildly of wet leaves, or the peat of the lowest layer of the forest floor. It is a rich smell, a fine mix between earthy and fresh. She moves with a rolling gait, as one would expect of a cat so large and broad. A few scars cross her shoulders, and a bite on her left knee shows through her fur, from when she got a little too rough with her battle mates.

+ ambitious, reliable, strategist
    Viperthroat has always had big dreams, and in her, ambition expresses as a mostly positive trait. It motivates her to keep going and do her best, so that she can make her clan proud and achieve her desires for the future. Growing up for her first few moons without being able to meet any cats other than her mother and siblings, Viperthoat often feels like she has to compensate by being extra dependable. She wants to be trusted, she wants to be relied upon, she wants responsibility. Always making a point of showing up on time for patrols and waking up early, she does her best to be the epitome of clockwork.
    A newer trait that has been beginning to develop in Viperthroat is an interest in clan politics and strategizing. She knows that to keep Redwoodclan safe, they have to find a way to deal with the threat of Lichenclan pressing in at their borders. She doesn't know a lot about her clanmates opinions on the war, and will construct her own by asking with them. With her creative brain and go-getter attitude, she's sure to create waves if she puts her mind to it.

- envious, insecure, idealistic
    Viperthroat often expresses feelings of envy, seeing the places that other cats have found while she's still trying to stand on her own four feet. She both wants and resents their friendships, and their unbroken families—she hates it and its bitterness, but she can't change how she feels. This feeds into a lack of self confidence that is growing within her, and often goes unnoticed. Cats expect her to be loud and bold, and she feigns an assured mask, but she often finds her words hollow and has her doubts on whether she truly means what she says.
    And sometimes... Viperthroat's dreams are a little too close to idealism. Everything she aims for may be just too perfect, and she may shoot for the stars but end up somewhere she doesn't want to be. She is certainly a visionary no matter her romanticization of reality, and that imagination of hers can still be utilized if she manages to ground it.

loves: Hunting, her family and mentor, Redwoodclan, knowing she makes cats proud, dandelions.
likes: Snakes, bees, shells, a strong breeze, the warrior code, thunderstorms (but only listening to them).
dislikes: Having to go out in the rain, humid weather, rabbits, arguing with her siblings.
hates: Moths, her nightmares.
secrets: She's beginning to worry... that she can't make it.
fears: Her mother never coming back and losing sight of her dreams.
dreams: To become a renowned warrior and see her mother returned to them so their family is whole again. And maybe one day, leadership.

    Born hissing just like her namesake, Viperkit was the firstborn kitten of young sweethearts Mousesong and Ravenfeather. Her parents commented on her furious fierceness, naming her after her grandfather, who had been killed during a raid on Redwoodclan's camp moons ago. They found her fur color rather curious, for she was not black but smokey grey, a fever coat that foretold her mother's illness perhaps before anyone else knew.

    One brother and one sister, Lionkit and Waspkit, were born not long after her. Possibly named in the same way as she, Viperkit always wondered if they had roared like a lion and buzzed like a wasp out of the womb too. She never asked. Though Mousesong's kits were strong, the family feared the outbreak of sickness in Redwoodclan would reach them. Their parents made the tough decision that Mousesong and her kits would stay apart from their clanmates for their own safety. Despite this effort, Mousesong still grew ill—but the goal of keeping their children healthy was accomplished.

    Viperkit grew up with only her siblings and mother as company, though she was told many, many stories about her father and the other cats in her clan. Mousesong always made an effort to note how much Viperkit reminded her of him. Her eyes changed to the color of his—and her coat grew darker, like his too. While her siblings bore green and greener, tabby coats taking swatches from Mousesong's, she had inherited the shades of a cat she had never met. She did meet him, finally, and as soon as she saw him... she was proud. She felt as if she fit in, because she looked like her father. And as she got to know him more, she was even more glad for that.

    She and her siblings had always been a raucous bunch, with Lionkit thunderous and bold, and Waspkit haughty and charming. Viperkit had big dreams, she couldn't wait to become a warrior.... and one day, she would be leader. She could feel it in her bones. That'd show her brother and sister! With only the pair of them as playmates, she grew a thick skin and a boisterous personality to mach theirs. Soon, the clan was over the brunt of the sickness and Mousesong was well enough to rejoin her clanmates. So the kits were introduced to the other kittens their age.

    While her siblings seemed to find their niches and friends, Viperkit preferred to seek out her parents or play on her own. Sometimes the other kits would say that she was too mean, and she bragged too much, but she took one look at Lionkit and Waspkit—and they were like that too. That didn't matter, though, she had more time by herself to practice her rather flawed hunting crouch and pounce on anything that moved. She was always more excited about learning to hunt than her denmates, who mostly seemed eager for the prospect of fighting.

    And soon that day she had been dreaming of came, she was made an apprentice under Loudstorm's guidance. The tom was patient and easy going, balancing Viperpaw's intensity while still encouraging her ambition. He took into account his strength in battle training and her interest in hunting, and molded Viperpaw into a well-rounded apprentice, and later, warrior. She trained with her siblings and a few other warriors a little, but she largely stayed isolated and leaned on her parents and mentor for support.

    That was, until her mother's health got worse again. Viperpaw denied her mother's waning wellness, though she had always treated the molly with more delicacy than she had other cats, she knew her mother could come back from it. She'd done it once, so she could do it again. She watched Mousesong weaken before her very eyes, but still insisted that she would get better. She wasn't there when her mother passed. Ravenfeather came to find her during a training session, and Loudstorm had stepped aside while her father told her the news.

    She couldn't believe it. There was no way that her mother was dead. She was so strong—how did it happen? She was getting better, how did she get worse again so fast? Her composure broke and she yowled that the medicine cats must be mistaken, that he must be mistaken, that she couldn't be gone. She ran off and spent the night up in the trees—she had heard cats calling for her once or twice, but she didn't respond. She took the night and the morning to process, but it still wasn't enough to even begin to grasp it. By the time she had returned to camp, at sunhigh the next day, her mother had already been buried.

    Viperpaw had missed her mother's vigil, and she never truly forgave herself for that. But she didn't want to see her... body. Her mother wouldn't have wanted her to see her that way. But... she had to still be out there, somewhere. There was still a chance she could come back. She knew she had to stay strong for her family, they were all suffering too—especially Ravenfeather. She tried to comfort him with the idea that she could return, but it didn't seem to help. So she quieted it, but still believed.

    Viperpaw's training suffered in the few moons after Mouseong's death. She kept at her learning and practicing, but she didn't improve much. She often stayed up late or overslept, and she had nightmares. Nightmares where she watched Mousesong die and couldn't move. Or where her mother came back, but she wasn't the same. Or where she was the only one who could see her, and nobody else believed she was real. She found she was oddly awake in these dreams, she knew they were dreams, but she didn't know how to get out of them.

    Loudstorm and Ravenfeather were steady supports for her during this time, and after her mentor brought up how much she was struggling, she realized she had given up on her dream. A dream she still held. And after a heart-to-heart, she was back on track again, and working as hard as ever. Her other relationships suffered, including those with her siblings, for both Wasppaw and Lionpaw were more nonchalant about their mother's death than she, and they didn't believe in the possibility of her returning to them.

    It was a shock to her when Wasppaw was the first to earn her warrior name, alone, without either of her siblings. She became Waspsong. She took their mother's prefix. Did that mean her clan had resigned themselves to the idea that Mousesong was never coming back? She was, she was, she was, but maybe she wouldn't mind. Maybe she'd be proud of her daughter for donning her name... but it left a sour taste in Viperpaw's mouth. She and Lionpaw were left on the other side, left behind.

    The black molly followed suit not but a moon or so later, also being named without a sibling beside her, in a quiet ceremony. Her name was Viperthroat. She wished that Lionpaw could have been with her... but she was ready to be done with apprenticehood. She wonders that if she was first, whether Finchstar would have named her Vipersong instead. She's glad she wasn't. Her lapse in the middle of her moons of training had set her a little behind, but she and Loudstorm worked harder than ever in that last moon to get her to her assessment. And she passed the first try.

    Now, in her warrior stage of life, Viperthroat is looking past earning her name and far into the future. With her new title, she now has to earn an actual name for herself—as a stellar warrior. She's still feeling a little aimless, with lofty goals, and it was suggested to her by her father that she try and make some friends outside of her siblings, now that she doesn't have training to worry about. So that, along with feeling out her clanmates' opinions on the war with Lichenclan, is one of her most recent goals. However daunting it is for her, anyone who knows her knows that she doesn't half-ass anything.