Tansystrike

Redwoodclan

classic ginger tabby tom with hazel eyes

Like his sister, Tansystrike didn't inherit his father's bulky build or thick coat. He takes after his mother, on the smaller side for a Redwoodclan warrior, which short fur that quickly gives away his rather weak build. Feeling no need to follow up on the training he gained as an apprentice or participate in battles, he isn't pudgy, but he certainly isn't fit. 

Since he tries to get out of participating in the fights ("I'm not scared, it's the principle of the thing!") he doesn't have any visible scars, and his ginger and white fur has stayed soft and plush. Classic tabby stripes flow down his back and along his sides, disrupted by the white fur that completely covers his chest, chin and stomach.

While his soft body and fur might suggest a friendly, sweet appearance, his voice does the opposite—unkind hazel eyes narrowed in contempt, nose scrunched in a sneer, you quickly get the impression that this tom is not particularly pleasant or kind. His whiskers twitch more often than most cats, jumping on either side of his face when he's amused, angry, or simply bored.

+ Independent

First and foremost, Tansystrike is a cat that does not like to rely on others—whether that's helping him with a task, or adopting others beliefs. A free spirit, he marches to the beat of his own drum and is not easily swayed. He doesn't worry about what other cats think of him or say behind his back.

+ Outspoken

Not afraid to let his disapproval be known, Tansystrike isn't afraid to call out his father, or even publicly criticize his leader. Every cat in Redwoodclan knows he hates the war by now, from how much he complains about it, but it comes from a place of doing what he believes is right. 

= Rebellious

After the death of his mother, Tansystrike began to act out. At first, it was a way to get his distant and depressed father's attention—even if that attention was just shouting matches and lectures. But as his beliefs about the war changed, his disregard for the rules became more rooted in a belief that the rules were unfair and unnecessary, and ignoring or breaking them was the morally right thing to do.  

- Immature

Would he have become a warrior sooner if he had gone to his sister or father for help? Absolutely, but his immature need to be independent overshadows any benefit he'd get from being cooperative. Don't expect him to ask you for help, and don't expect to receive it from him, either. Being independent has its positives, of course, but in Tansystrike's case, his immaturity has made it something more of a hindrance. 

- Lazy
 
Once he started shirking his duties, he lost his motivation to go back—why work hard when you don't have to? His sister Clovershade was doing the work of three cats already, so what does it matter if he sites out on patrols and battles? 

TANSYKIT: calm before the storm

Tansykit was born to two well-respected and loving Redwoodclan warriors—Thornfall, Heatherstar's son, and Emberheart—and he even had a littermate to annoy in his sister, Cloverkit.

But from a young age, Tansykit knew things weren’t all moth balls and roses in Redwoodclan. There were nights when the distant yowls of fighting cats pierced the nursery walls and his mother’s body wrapped tightly around him, protecting him and his sister until the commotion faded away. 

Even before the war with Lichenclan turned his life upside down, Tansystrike was an independent and stubborn kit, hiding from bath time and pouting until Cloverkit agreed to play the game he wanted to play. Learning that he was the grand-kit of a Redwoodclan leader and deputy gave him an even bigger head, and he would often use his lineage as an excuse to boss the other kits in the nursery around.

At the end of the day though, Tansykit respected his parents—they kept him and his sister safe, and there was no denying Thornfall was a formidable warrior—the kind of warrior Tansykit wanted to be one day. And despite his slight unruliness, he loved them, and they loved him in turn.


—

TANSYPAW: you barely get by, the rest of us are trying

The day Tansystrike became an apprentice alongside his sister is one of the last happy days he can remember. They were both eager, with the same goals most new apprentices have—to impress their mentor, to become a warrior as quickly as possible, and someday, rise through the ranks and become clan leader.

Just a moon into his apprenticeship, Tansypaw’s world came crashing down around him. The distant sounds of fighting he had heard in the nursery were nothing compared to the vicious snarling and screeching that erupted in their camp the night Lichenclan attacked. Training with his mentor just days before, Tansypaw had expressed how impatient he was to sink his teeth into a Lichenclan warrior’s neck—but when the opportunity came, he was immediately knocked aside as if he were no heavier than a moss ball. Half conscious on the forest floor, he could only watch helplessly until the battle was over and the medicine cat could tend to him.

She was the first to break the news to him—that his mother, Emberheart, had been killed. He denied it at first, calling the poor medicine cat a number of unkind names until Cloverpaw confirmed the worst.

Up until the death of his mother, Tansypaw never had an interest in clan politics—he just knew that Lichenclan was bad, and they had to fight them. After that night, he started to question everything he’d been told as a kit about the war, and quickly came to the conclusion that it was stupid, that there was no reason for it. Why didn’t Finchstar just give them what they wanted and get this over with? There was nothing valiant or brave about this—just stupid, stupid pride blinding his clanmates to the truth.

No cat has to be killed over this. No one cares about the stupid Mooncave.

Once he began to doubt the legitimacy of the war, he began to doubt every other rule and tradition. Why shouldn’t he eat his own catch on a hunt? Why shouldn’t he cross a border to chase a squirrel? Why shouldn’t he check out she-cats in other clans?

His sister, on the other paw, became a total kiss up—sometimes, he thought she just did it to make him look bad. How else could she possibly go on pretending everything was ok? The close relationship they’d had as kits dissolved quickly, a wedge only deepened by the fact that Cloverpaw became a warrior 3 moons before he did.

TANSYSTRIKE: rebel without a clue

At 15 moons, spurred to action somewhat by his sister's early promotion, Tansypaw finally became Tansystrike. Unfortunately, age and experience did little to mature him. Once he started acting out as an apprentice, it became hard to stop, even on the rare days he wanted to stop, wanted to be better. Being the rebellious, rule-breaking cat was what he was known for now, and it would feel disingenuous to stop now.

Free from the expectations of an apprentice, Tansystrike now lives as he pleases—he’s alone when he wants to be alone, he finds cats to bother when he wants to be social, and he never, ever lets cats tell him what to do—especially not Thornfall.

After Emberheart’s death, every conversation with his father became a lecture—even Clovershade tried lecturing him from time to time, and all they got in return were eyerolls and a snide remark.

Without any sense of direction, without any goals to aspire to, Tansystrike’s happiness depends on the short-term high he gets from bullying his clanmates, getting caught hunting on Lichenclan territory, and just generally doing what he isn’t supposed to.

Well, there is one other thing that can make him happy—his aunt, Pebblefoot. She was Thornfall’s sister, but she was nothing like him—she was a free-thinker, and didn’t lecture him about breaking the code. But aside from Pebblefoot, there are really no cats that he’s close to. Sure, he likes to mingle and flirt, but those are all shallow interactions.

If he wants any chance at healing and forging deeper bonds, he’ll need to learn how to stop running from his grief.