Post by Egotistic on Mar 20, 2022 1:54:27 GMT -6
Brookfang
Loner
a thick-furred, battle-scarred black mackerel tabby w/ green eyes.
n/a
female | she-cat
63 moons
Appearance
Despite her many wounds, Brookfang has remained unnervingly strong. And indeed, it seems she has maintained an almost herculean strength, herself being of surpassing vigor even now, bent beneath the rigors of time and hard-fought battles. And if her eye, now milky with cataract, could not attest to the trouncing blow which she had been dealt, then surely one might look upon the terrible wound that breaks the fur at her throat to see that it is so, so large and wretched it is in its immensity not even her pelt could hide it.
Indeed, her very story plays in the marring of her wild black tabby furs, which sprawl either-which-way, disorderly by way of poor maintenance. Yet had it not been for her pelt, thick and coarse and wild as it is, she might not have been spared from other such grievous wounds, and though she is riddled with them, few can boast of having been dealt more than that which she wears upon her very person.
Indeed, her very story plays in the marring of her wild black tabby furs, which sprawl either-which-way, disorderly by way of poor maintenance. Yet had it not been for her pelt, thick and coarse and wild as it is, she might not have been spared from other such grievous wounds, and though she is riddled with them, few can boast of having been dealt more than that which she wears upon her very person.
Personality
Positives
| Negatives
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Vega’s trusted second-in-command and former RedwoodClan war hero, though externally Brookfang exudes the poised airs of a time-hardened warrior, her true nature does not yield to such serious acts and displays. A stalwart follower and trusted confidant, to those she is close to, Brookfang does not bear such over-serious airs, but rather that of a close ally, one which one need not worry about confiding in and to whom thundering laughter and humor come easily. Indeed, when she is not at her work, Brookfang hardly reflects the fighter she is. Prone to laziness and negligence when not carrying out her work, to many whom she is close, when she is in this state, she is carefree and possesses a juvenile humor.
On duty, Brookfang is another creature altogether. One who takes great pride in her work and the responsibility of ensuring her people’s safety, beyond the comforts of their underground dwelling, Brookfang is watchful, stern, and commanding. There is nothing she takes more seriously than the safety of the tunnel dwellers, and when carrying out duties regarding their protection, she is stern and headstrong, ruthless and cruel and grating… but for a cause, for she does not delight in such actions out of brute cruelness. Brookfang wishes only to avoid her past and will do all in her power to do so.
History
In Times of Great Need
They had not been born in restful times. Though the spring winds blew, and the comfort of full bellies weighed, neither mother nor father could have afforded for children in those times—for it was a time of war, when children are not be excited upon… and yet when Sparrownose grew heavy with her kits and the herbs to dissuade such notions were chucked down her earnest gullet, naught could be done for it. The little seeds took root, and her mate never forgave her for it, he who knew war as she did and did not wish for any of their young to know it as they knew it.
Yet they would and did.
In the time of their conception, war perforated their borders, and in tandem with Sparrownose’s birthing howls came the caterwaul of a fearsome battle. So her brood came into life—four little ones. Yet two did not move and were birthed cold as stone, and she knew in some way it had been work of the herbs that took them. So she buried them in silence, blaming herself, all alone with no medic to aid her or give her the milk-giving leaves. She named her two remaining heirs before her mate could even return; Brook-kit and Ivykit. Her two little daughters and inheritors of their bloodline.
What a weight they will carry upon their shoulders, thought the mother as they nestled into her belly.
Such little lives, born amid so terrible a war... what might the stars have in store for such ill-brought tidings?
She knew not, yet when her mate returned to her, when he looked upon them, she did not utter such foreboding thoughts, only pressed against him with the rumbling in her throat, for there was great pride in having even two daughters, and though both worried both knew they would do all they could to protect those little lives.
Events of Kittenhood…
Brook-kit is named for her veritable size and the earthen colors of her pelt. Even in her scant moons, she notices the tension within her family and the unhappiness that plagues them and the rest of her Clan.
Sparrownose returns to join in the war effort on the day of their weaning, leaving Brook-kit and Ivykit alone to fend for themselves. In the absence of both guardians, Brook-kit takes on a paternal role for her sister. Though her mother never utters of where she goes, Brook-kit often remembers smelling the reek of blood in her furs as she nestled into them each night… the stench of poultice and plaster became commonplace in her memory—the very odor of which lulled her into many a troubled sleep.
As both parents become less and less commonplace in the nest, Brook-kit and Ivykit pass time largely in the presence of the Clan’s most heinously injured. Old, battle-scarred warriors elect to tell them stories of the war in details oft denied to them. As Brook-kit learns more of the great danger her clanmates are putting themselves into, she grows curiously more interested in the war, imagining she might be able to stop it somehow. This fascination grows into an obsession; despite her young age, her interest in battle permeates her every question and, with it, a growing interest in the nature of the Clans beyond their border. Though neither Borageheart nor Sparrownose approve of this development, their duties keep them too far from the nest to stop it.
Sparrownose returns to join in the war effort on the day of their weaning, leaving Brook-kit and Ivykit alone to fend for themselves. In the absence of both guardians, Brook-kit takes on a paternal role for her sister. Though her mother never utters of where she goes, Brook-kit often remembers smelling the reek of blood in her furs as she nestled into them each night… the stench of poultice and plaster became commonplace in her memory—the very odor of which lulled her into many a troubled sleep.
As both parents become less and less commonplace in the nest, Brook-kit and Ivykit pass time largely in the presence of the Clan’s most heinously injured. Old, battle-scarred warriors elect to tell them stories of the war in details oft denied to them. As Brook-kit learns more of the great danger her clanmates are putting themselves into, she grows curiously more interested in the war, imagining she might be able to stop it somehow. This fascination grows into an obsession; despite her young age, her interest in battle permeates her every question and, with it, a growing interest in the nature of the Clans beyond their border. Though neither Borageheart nor Sparrownose approve of this development, their duties keep them too far from the nest to stop it.
Making Up Lost Time
When the time came for Brook-kit to take on her apprentice title, her parents ensured that she was apprenticed by none other than RedwoodClan’s most esteemed. Placed into the care of a tom so rife with scars one lost count of them, Brookpaw, initially pleased by such arrangements and the increasing closeness they brought her to her goals, thought nothing of them… yet as her imaginings grew into fruition and the training began, such thoughts waned. In times of war, there was little room for coddling, and her mentor worked her doggedly, relentless and impatient in their training; demanding and even sometimes cruel… yet despite the tenderness of her previous life, Brookfang abstained from complaint and did not balk in the face of so fearsome and adversary as her own teacher.
All for the sake of that little dream—to end a war that for generations could not be ended.
Yet with age came the distractibility, the brashness, the reckless and ornery nature of youth. Quickly did her tractability cease, and her interest in other matters blossom. In times of war and hardened, blood-hungry thoughts, Brookpaw instead entertained herself with mingling with the enemy and learning their ways, and upon attending her first gathering, she made friends across all stretches of the island—friends who her constant and regular visits to see were no well-kept secret.
Steadily, her focus on the war faded in place of the easily achieved gratification that came with being away from it. Her want to end the fighting was replaced instead with a deep infatuation for culture, which shamed both parents, whose very station within the Clan came under question. Slowly their positive relations dwindled, yet Brookpaw’s ventures to the border under the fickle truce of night did not ebb in their commonness.
How could they? There was still so much yet to learn.
Events of Apprenticeship…
Brookpaw's infatuation with the war is replaced by an obsessive compulsion to better understand the enemy's ways. After attending her first gathering, Brookpaw steeps herself in juvenile behaviors, sneaking from camp and neglecting her duties in favor of pursuing her interests and the gratification they bring her. Yet when she is present for her training, she proves herself an able fighter. Cunning, quick, and brutish, she is not easily felled by her more studious peers… yet many whisper of the peculiar nature in which she fights—how comfortably she assumes the enemy's tactics.
When confronted on the nature of her regular departures and wanderings, Brookpaw is made to stand before Heatherstar and confess her truancy. However, despite the occasion, Brookpaw only insists on the necessity of her findings. She imparts to her leader the knowledge she has garnered from her many outings, and while the leader's eyes shine with great interest, the benefit of such knowledge is cast aside in favor of peace despite Brookpaw's insistence.
After leading a patrol on border reconnaissance, Borageheart's patrol is found dead, a long way from RedwoodClan's own hunting grounds. It is later discovered at a gathering that the offensive effort was led by the young upstart Hemlockheart. Brookpaw watches on as the enemy regales the loss of so precious a life. Amidst their chants and raving cries plant then the black seeds of hatred. Her wanderings to the border grow in their regularity despite the mounting tensions, though there is a sinister quality to her lurking about this time.
Prey grows scarce within RedwoodClan's borders. Her mentor takes her to hunt, interloping LichenClan boundaries in search of prey. Though the act is forbidden, she delights in the venture and feels a swell of pride whenever she returns to her mentor with enemy prey stuffed betwixt her jaws. These secret outings grow in their frequency until they are tracked and attacked by a LichenClan patrol. Outnumbered, though Brookpaw is able to escape the excursion, her mentor falls in combat in his fierce effort to save her from meeting a similar fate. She returns to camp alone, bloodied, and with news of the occurrence, yet no act is made to avenge her mentor, just as no action was made to avenge her father. Again, the seeds of hatred grow, sinking deeper their roots.
Brookpaw's training becomes aimless as her mentor's come and go. The fighting has grown in its alacrity, and tensions are at their peak. Many cats begin to whisper of a terrible war on the horizon.
At the approach of her twelfth moon, Brookpaw confronts Heatherstar with a plan to thwart their LichenClan enemies but is crestfallen when Heatherstar, chiding her naivete and youth, denies her want for revenge. However, opportunity presents itself when another patrol is ambushed at the border. Brookpaw devises a plan that allows her Clan to overcome the attack despite their odds—as a result, her scatterbrained, obsessive tendencies are briefly forgotten as she proves herself an insightful strategist.
When confronted on the nature of her regular departures and wanderings, Brookpaw is made to stand before Heatherstar and confess her truancy. However, despite the occasion, Brookpaw only insists on the necessity of her findings. She imparts to her leader the knowledge she has garnered from her many outings, and while the leader's eyes shine with great interest, the benefit of such knowledge is cast aside in favor of peace despite Brookpaw's insistence.
After leading a patrol on border reconnaissance, Borageheart's patrol is found dead, a long way from RedwoodClan's own hunting grounds. It is later discovered at a gathering that the offensive effort was led by the young upstart Hemlockheart. Brookpaw watches on as the enemy regales the loss of so precious a life. Amidst their chants and raving cries plant then the black seeds of hatred. Her wanderings to the border grow in their regularity despite the mounting tensions, though there is a sinister quality to her lurking about this time.
Prey grows scarce within RedwoodClan's borders. Her mentor takes her to hunt, interloping LichenClan boundaries in search of prey. Though the act is forbidden, she delights in the venture and feels a swell of pride whenever she returns to her mentor with enemy prey stuffed betwixt her jaws. These secret outings grow in their frequency until they are tracked and attacked by a LichenClan patrol. Outnumbered, though Brookpaw is able to escape the excursion, her mentor falls in combat in his fierce effort to save her from meeting a similar fate. She returns to camp alone, bloodied, and with news of the occurrence, yet no act is made to avenge her mentor, just as no action was made to avenge her father. Again, the seeds of hatred grow, sinking deeper their roots.
Brookpaw's training becomes aimless as her mentor's come and go. The fighting has grown in its alacrity, and tensions are at their peak. Many cats begin to whisper of a terrible war on the horizon.
At the approach of her twelfth moon, Brookpaw confronts Heatherstar with a plan to thwart their LichenClan enemies but is crestfallen when Heatherstar, chiding her naivete and youth, denies her want for revenge. However, opportunity presents itself when another patrol is ambushed at the border. Brookpaw devises a plan that allows her Clan to overcome the attack despite their odds—as a result, her scatterbrained, obsessive tendencies are briefly forgotten as she proves herself an insightful strategist.
Blood-Chased Fields
Relinquished from the restriction of apprentice living, Brookfang’s wanderings to enemy borders only grew in their commonplace. Time wasted on patrols and fetching food were padded by ample hours of novice spy efforts and idle waiting. With each gathering, her knowledge only grew and with it the obsession, the hatred, and the will for revenge.
Where her sister and mother returned to lives of normalcy, Brookfang did not, and where her sister settled and found a mate—one who had once held her affections—she did nothing more than scorn them for their shiftless temperaments. So did their relations grow strained. Brookfang found herself mingling more with RedwoodClan’s most avid and esteemed fighters and hunters; her knowledge, once scorned in her childhood, became more widely accepted, appreciated, and encouraged, and for a time aided them in their efforts against the enemy.
It was a time she remembers most for the lulling satisfaction that came with each victory. Yet as their achievements grew in their number, the enemy grew in their cruelty.
With time the enemy grew bolder; their battles, once fought at the junction of well-marked borders, began their trek into RedwoodClan territory. Soon the lost lives of innocents grew in their regularity, and as the height of the Clan’s grief again came cries for peace. Again, her want to impede on the enemy’s secrets were scorned. Having lost so many, few grew eager at the notion of more fighting.
Events of Warriorhood…
Brookfang establishes herself as a source of great intel. Though initially her knowledge is praised and used to RedwoodClan’s advantage, as the casualties grow, the losses weigh heavily on her clanmates. Their want for fighting and the spoils of winning cease; what favor there was for the skills she entreated are exchanged for disgust and impatience. Again, Heatherstar’s want for pacifism echoes, and Brookfang’s services are no longer needed.
Despite the change in her Clan’s temperament, Brookfang’s wanderings to the patrol do not cease. On her rangings, she encounters a young tom who carries a strange, stony scent on his pelt. His name is Vega, and the two become fast friends and exchangers of knowledge. Brookfang finds an escape in his presence, and her absence from Clan grows, with many nights occupied in the company of her newfound friend. It costs her, though. Standing guard at the camp’s entrance one night, Brookfang unknowingly slips into a deep slumber, allowing the enemy’s entry. She awakes to the sounds of battle, and her mother already dead. In an effort to avenge her, Brookfang, against Heatherstar’s orders, mounts a chase and pursues the enemy. It will be the last battle she fights in good health. Approaching the LichenClan cat that shed her blood, the mighty Emberscorch, she is badly wounded, enduring a cut to her throat that bleeds the very life from her. She falls in combat while the rest of her patrol flees. Thinking her dead, no one returns to salvage her from enemy hunting grounds, yet she is found by a strange pair of cats who take her into the tunnels.
Despite the change in her Clan’s temperament, Brookfang’s wanderings to the patrol do not cease. On her rangings, she encounters a young tom who carries a strange, stony scent on his pelt. His name is Vega, and the two become fast friends and exchangers of knowledge. Brookfang finds an escape in his presence, and her absence from Clan grows, with many nights occupied in the company of her newfound friend. It costs her, though. Standing guard at the camp’s entrance one night, Brookfang unknowingly slips into a deep slumber, allowing the enemy’s entry. She awakes to the sounds of battle, and her mother already dead. In an effort to avenge her, Brookfang, against Heatherstar’s orders, mounts a chase and pursues the enemy. It will be the last battle she fights in good health. Approaching the LichenClan cat that shed her blood, the mighty Emberscorch, she is badly wounded, enduring a cut to her throat that bleeds the very life from her. She falls in combat while the rest of her patrol flees. Thinking her dead, no one returns to salvage her from enemy hunting grounds, yet she is found by a strange pair of cats who take her into the tunnels.
Stony Respites
Lost within the stony respites of that foreign stone home, Brookfang recovered her strength in the presence of strange cats who bore the etchings of warriors on their faces but none of their nature. Soon her body healed under the egregious conditions it had been forced under. Her throat, bereft of its fur, healed a cruel scar, her eye, grown milky and pale, denied her its vision, and her limb, torn down, no longer bore her weight. Yet in her pain, in the time and application of stinging poultice, she could not remember ever feeling such peace, amongst these cats she hardly knew, yet who treated her so tenderly.
Upon healing, Brookfang found strength enough to return to her home, yet upon revealing herself, she was met only by the lashing claws of her sister, who, spotting her at the border, spat bitter blame onto her person. It had been her fault, or so she insisted—that was what had caused Sparrownose’s untimely demise, and as Brookfang fled, bleeding from her sister’s claws, she could not deny the truth in it.
RedwoodClan was no longer a home for her, and so she ceased her efforts to return to them.
Amidst the stone dwellers, Brookfang was an oddity, yet she soon learned to become one as they were. She adopted peace in place of her impassioned rage and want for vengeance. She learned the healing arts and relished in the art of remedying hurts rather than inflicting them. In time she settled amongst them, though even in doing so, even in the amassing of great friends and family, she could not stop the painful want for her old home.
Events of Recovery…
Brookfang assimilates with the stone-dwelling cats and quickly adopts their peace-loving ways in favor of her warmongering nature. Her fiery temper is quelled by their kind words, and she quickly adopts their habits, learning the art of healing… and forgiveness. During her time amongst them and under the tutelage of their monarchs, Brookfang slowly realizes Heatherstar’s intentions in maintaining peace and adopts them herself.
Vega returns with two bundles whom he claims as his own. Brookfang, devastated by the news, conceals her hurt by assuming the role of guardian over them; however, she is unable to shake her disappointment… and the unspoken resentment she bears towards them.
A blustering storm rampages through the land and floods their tunnels. Cranewatcher, the sole survivor of their ancient matriarchs, is lost amidst the frothing waters as he risks his life to save the young Ara. Without him, the tunnel-dwellers are left astray in their grief, now without the very source of their wisdom and the heart of their cause. Brookfang falls into aiding Vega in their absence, feeling it her responsibility to guide him through his newfound grief, which she has become all too used to.
Current time…
Vega returns with two bundles whom he claims as his own. Brookfang, devastated by the news, conceals her hurt by assuming the role of guardian over them; however, she is unable to shake her disappointment… and the unspoken resentment she bears towards them.
A blustering storm rampages through the land and floods their tunnels. Cranewatcher, the sole survivor of their ancient matriarchs, is lost amidst the frothing waters as he risks his life to save the young Ara. Without him, the tunnel-dwellers are left astray in their grief, now without the very source of their wisdom and the heart of their cause. Brookfang falls into aiding Vega in their absence, feeling it her responsibility to guide him through his newfound grief, which she has become all too used to.
Current time…
