MAGPIEFUR

LICHENCLAN

imposing black and white she-cat with gold-green eyes

Tall, long-bodied and possessing abundant, bulky muscle, this she-cat could pass for a Redwoodclan warrior. She stalks to and fro in a heavy looking gait, substantiating the strength she has developed in her rectangular frame. Her power is evident in her robust chest, brawny shoulders and thick legs – which she uses both to patrol the Birch tree forest and to fish successfully at the lake shore. When sitting or lying she can seem smaller, but a quick stretch or an easy sprint will soon belie any doubts one might have about her stature. Often she will lay crouching, her wide front paws peaking out from under her – hiding her long and cruel claws.

While her body and the length of her fur takes after her father, she has the coloring of her mother. Her fur sits like a cloud on her body, not as long as others but thick enough to sink a paw into. This keeps her well protected from the cold and from enemy claws. Black as a moonless night from her head to her tail tip, her fur is smooth and glossy. Well kept, for this she-cat is a fastidious groomer.

Her face is mottled black and white between her eyes and down onto her nose, which is split between black and delicate pink skin. Both of her cheeks have thick tufts of fur that carry down into her neck to make her appear even larger than she is. Above her eyes and on her pronounced muzzle, long white whiskers catch the light and dart out into her dark pelt. The fur inside her ears too, is white and noticeable against her black fur. From her muzzle down onto her chest, her fur is frosty white save for a black patch on her chin. The fur of her belly is also white, with a few black patches that carry across her stomach in a belt. Here her fur is longer and softer than that on her back, feathering away from her body. Her front legs are both white, with black bands wrapping around the back of each partway up. Her back legs are black, save for her white toes.

Her eyes are large and usually wide, unless she is caught in a poor mood. Her expression bright and observant. This often makes her seem far more open and approachable than she is usually feeling. In the sunlight her eyes glow the rich golden color of the birch tree leaves in leaf-fall. At night, or in the natural dark of the caves, it is sometimes easier to notice the pale green hiding in her irises.

MISTRUSTFUL – PRECOCIOUS – WITHDRAWN – DISCIPLINED

When she was young, Magpiefur was sweet natured. Always happy to socialize with her siblings and other clan mates. She had a prickly side that could show itself if she was hassled too much, but it would leave as soon as it appeared. However the difficulties she has witnessed since becoming an apprentice and later a warrior have worn away at her good temperament. The constant warring and the losses to her clan have carved her into a cat with a sore heart and a mistrustful mind, quick to lash out at any that she sees as a threat not only to her clan but her own well being. This can lead to her misreading the intentions of other cats. She is so sure that they might mean her ill, she has trouble recognizing any other intentions – sometimes until it is too late.

Always happy to learn about anything new even as a kit, she is quick to study any new method of hunting or warrior ability. She takes perfecting her skills at catching fish particularly seriously, often pursuing this activity on her own and presenting her catches with pride to her clan-mates. One of her most secret wishes is to learn everything she can about all of the islands. From the best areas for each kind of prey to the best sunning rocks. She diligently gleans any piece of information she can from any cat she speaks to, and often wishes that she could have the opportunity to explore new areas freely without having to fear for her life.

Magpiefur doesn’t mind being around her clan-mates. She is often in the company of other warriors both while hunting or patrolling. In the caves she can be seen sitting or laying near other cats and conversing. But, for all her presence, she does not let many cats within the clan know her very well. She rarely speaks of her own feelings or wants, and if asked will brush the topic off and refocus the attention elsewhere. Her thoughts and feelings lie beneath her fur the same way her scars do, and she is not keen to share them with anyone anymore. There are times where she will slip away to sit along the lake shore and watch the water, far enough from the caves that the other cats will not notice her.

This she-cat may not be in the center of her clan’s social circles, but she has been well trained in her duties to her clan and to Starclan. Despite her own doubts about whether what her clan does is right, when given an order Magpiefur follows it. Magpiefur is studious in her duties to feed her clan-mates and protect their territory. She is particularly caring of the queens and kits. Several times a queen has woken to a fresh trout dropped outside of her den, delivered hastily by a quickly retreating Magpiefur that is too shy to receive their thanks. If she harbors any questions or fears over launching an attack she certainly doesn’t show it in the moment the claws are unsheathed.

Father: Sharpfrost
Mother: Mintstep
Littermate: Pebblepaw (deceased)
Older Sibling: Fogheart
Uncle: Silentstrike

Born after war was declared between Redwoodclan and her own, Magpiefur has never known peace.
Her earliest memories – milk-hazy and warm against her mother’s soft belly – are overshadowed by her mother’s fear scent. Only once she was older would she understand that she was just a few days old when her father was nearly killed in battle. Mintstep was an experienced queen, and had a gift with words. She wove the stories of Starclan into incredible tales that captivated her kittens. Her father, still recovering from deep wounds, was present far more than his normal warrior duties would have allowed. Sharpfrost watched contentedly as Mintstep instilled their kits with proper loyalty to the clan, and love and trust in Starclan.

Once Magpiekit and her littermate were old enough to learn and understand, Sharpfrost took an active interest in teaching them. Mostly healed and recovering his strength, he took the time to teach them about the world they found themselves in – including the clan’s territory, history, and current hostilities. He also taught his kits about Egretfeather, and instilled in his kits the desire to serve the cats of their clan and the ideals of Starclan above anything else. By the time Sharpfrost was back to his full formidable strength, he had insured that his kits were strong, knowledgeable, and capable.

Only once she became an apprentice did Magpiepaw discover the intracacies within her clan. Saltwhisker was named as her mentor, and at the time Magpiepaw didn’t understand the concerned twitch of her mother’s tail. She soon discovered that he was profoundly religious, more so than either of her parents by leaps and bounds. Magpiepaw was drilled mercilessly on her knowledge of Starclan and the strength of her beliefs, all while being constantly cut down for the weakness of her sex and the inherent failings that Satlwhisker saw in her.

His punishments seemed endless and his praise little. Days spent hunting for double – or triple, if he’d not been happy with the catch – her share of food before she could eat. When rain came, standing in storms on the shore praying to Starclan. When he discovered her love for swimming and fishing, she soon found herself kept in water for hours at a time to prove that she wouldn’t drown. All of this was accompanied with lectures on the history of Lichenclan, and why their wars and victories were necessary – to punish the heathens in other clans. Magpiepaw found herself unconvinced, focusing more on the parts of Lichenclan’s history when peace ruled – curious about what that would be like, and wondering why that wasn’t what Minnowstar wanted now. Didn’t Starclan want clan cats to thrive and live well, to see the clans prosper? She was smart enough to keep these thoughts to herself.
Her only relief during these times were her friendships – with her sister Pebblepaw, and fellow apprentice Cresspaw. They both helped keep her spirit up to withstand anything her mentor could put her through.

Late in her apprenticeship, Magpiepaw’s only littermate and sister, Pebblepaw, was badly injured in a battle. Having inherited their mother’s smaller build and sweet personality, Pebblepaw had not yet become skilled in fighting. Her injuries were grievous, and several days later she succumbed to a sickness brought on by them. Magpiepaw fell into grief. She withdrew from Cresspaw, unsure how to express the loss. Her mentor saw her low emotions as yet another failing. Saltwhisker was quick to hammer home new lessons, more cruel and time consuming than before. Magpiepaw did her best to bear through them, telling herself that one day she would be a warrior to make her sister proud. To protect other cats in her clan so that they wouldn’t have to die as she had.

It all came to a head during one of Saltwhisker’s tasks for her. Unhappy with her progress in finding a way through the tunnels, he told her “If this is your best, then you should give up on being a warrior now. Your failure proves your weakness, and the last thing Starclan wants is a warrior that isn’t worthy.”

Believing that she would never be a warrior, believing that she had failed as an apprentice, and believing that she had failed Starclan, that night Magpiepaw wandered from the caves. She wasn’t sure that she’d ever return. She made it as far as the birch trees before a concerned meow stopped her. She turned around to find that Fogheart had followed her.

Fogheart was her only living sibling, an older brother from her parent’s previous litter. Due to their age gap and his warrior duties, they had always been somewhat distant. After questioning Magpiepaw, her brother convinced her that she had failed in nothing yet. Failure would only happen if she gave up. With an encouraging brush of his feathered tail, he lead her back to camp. Over the coming days, Fogheart spent more time with her. If Saltwhisker took her out on a patrol, Fogheart was quick to volunteer to join. If she went hunting, her brother often crossed her path. And if she had alone time, he would take her out into the forest or down into the tunnels and train her himself.
The sudden closeness of her brother gave Magpiepaw the boost of confidence she needed in order to last through all of Satlwhisker’s tests, until finally she was made a warrior.

Magpiefur. Finally a warrior. Finally a feat to make her family proud. Finally free of Saltwhisker’s cruel view of her shortcomings – let him think what he wanted, it was no longer her concern. The swim into the moonpool, dipping beneath the still water completely, felt liberating. She emerged from the water with the moon glowing in her joyful eyes, and confessed her dislike of Saltwhisker and fear of her failure to the medicine cat gladly. Healthy and hardy, she had no worry of becoming sick during that night’s vigil. On the other side of the sunrise was her future as a clan cat.

These days, Magpiefur is happy to patrol to protect Lichenclan’s land but she tires of the war. She has seen more of the clan’s cats die, and she isn’t convinced of the reasons for it. She does not share this idea, and follows orders. Her true joy is fishing. Nothing brings her quite so much delight as lugging a hefty fish into the caves for another cat to feast on. More confident in herself, she has rekindled her friendship with Cressclaw.