Sproutwing

Thistleclan

tall tabby and white tom with light green eyes

Long, gangly limbs and hard edges stand in the place of muscle and fat form the image of a rather rangy cat built for agility instead of fighting. Indeed, the tom is a swift runner, whether it be to a new adventure or away from an enemy. His speed ensures that any sticky situation he cannot resolve on his own, he can at least run away from. Thankfully, Sproutwing comes up to the shoulders of his peers, and then some. Having grown into his lanky frame

Sproutwing was named for his earthen coat, the colors tied to the conifers and deep pine woods. They mark him as a pure-blooded Thistleclan cat, destined to beat prey through the brush in carefully calculated movements. Whereas his brother may have long tigerish stripes, the tom's stripes have been broken up to the point where he appears to be a spotted cat. Patches of white fur appear between the sea of tree-bark-brown, his feet, chest, and chin an innocent alabaster. Otherwise, his patterning mimics that of his father.

Sproutwing's face does well to convey an image of boyishness. Though rather bony and angular, like the rest of his body, they present him as a rather unassuming cat. However, his grass-green eyes are very expressive. The tom has always been very open with his emotions, and it's usually not hard to tell how he's feeling. His emotions are readily on display through his tone and body language.

Sproutwing exemplifies the principle of youthful innocence. The tom is unusually cheerful and possesses an unbridled amount of energy. Whenever he sets his heart on an objective, he devotes himself wholly towards it until it is achieved. His hyperactive restlessness frequently puts him in the service of his friends and family, as it pleases him to see them happy and satisfied. Unfortunately, his exuberance and drive has made him a somewhat rash cat, as he often goes into tasks with only the goal in mind and not the process leading up to it. Despite being an optimist, he is not pragmatic, and often has a fair share of clumsy mishaps along the way.

Growing up within a supportive and loving environment has taught him to be amiable towards others in turn. The tom is rarely harsh towards others, and speaks with a warm and friendly tone, only raising his voice to be heard. Despite being warrior age, he frequently checks in with his parents and siblings, and enjoys spending time with them. His devotion to family has molded him to think in an allocentric manner regarding his clanmates and his role in Thistleclan as a whole. Although he supports the need for maintaining strict borders and defense against hostile outsiders, Sproutwing is far from an extremist in these beliefs. The tom has a forgiving nature and does not exude Thistleclan's characteristic harshness or aggression unless threatened first.

Sproutwing's outward awareness and penchant for kindness has made him open to the emotions of others. The tom serves as a mediator to keep unnecessary conflicts among his family members to a minimum. Unfortunately, this has also made him grow emotional and impulsive. Most of his waking time is characterized by waves of emotions. Despite his cheerful facade, Sproutwing feels negative emotions as strongly as positive ones. In a clan as cold and unforgiving as Thistleclan, the tom is often put at risk for emotional burnout and fatigue due to being exposed to the negative emotions of the individuals around him.

Sproutkit was born to proud Thistleclan warriors Maplebranch and Lilypad alongside his brother Fennelkit. Like all kits, his concerns were mostly confined to feeding and playing with his brother, whose impetuous drive made him the ideal playmate. Born with a habitual yearning for the outdoors, Sproutkit grew up badgering Lilypad incessantly to go play with Fennelkit outside. Schemes were hatched and carried out, and with that, memories were made. And at night, Lilypad would bring him close to her warm belly and whisper about stories of the outside, of the brooding pines and prickly thorns that guarded their home. So, of course, Sproutkit found a new playground in the marshes, and his brother made a habit of terrorizing the frogs that resided there. Maplebranch was always there with a face full of smiles and a booming laugh, joy and pride written all over his face.

Unfortunately, not everything would remain stories and kit-play, for in the dead of night, a shadow hung over his father's head. Several moons ago, the Thistleclan molly Birchsong fell in love with the rogue Oleander. Soon finding herself pregnant with his kits, she soon turned to Maplebranch for help, convincing him to pose as the sire. A few moons after the kits were born, Birchsong arranged for her daughter, Cedarkit, to meet her father by the border. Unfortunately, after exchanging a few brief pleasantries, the tabby rogue took the opportunity to kidnap Cedarkit to live with him as a rogue. A distraught Birchsong returned to camp empty-pawed, and was promptly exiled. The ebony leader, along with the rest of the clan, have attempted multiple searches for the missing kit, but success eludes them.

Tensions from inter-clan affairs lead to disruptions at home. Even though Maplebranch does not mince words when speaking of conflict, Lilypad is more protective. Their clashing attitudes lead to small arguments at home, not all of which Sproutkit is out of present for. The nursery became filled with an agitated energy. Nonetheless, the effects are palpable and they only fuel his restless, adventurous desire. So, when the moon waxed scarlet for the first time, drowning the island in a crimson shroud, Fennelkit led his brother outside. His brother was alive with a fretful energy, frustration and desperation causing his pelt to rise. An aspiring gleam shone in his eye as the twins pondered the state of their clan. Sproutkit was as ready as his brother to do more. No matter that they were just kits at the time. "Just because the other warriors couldn't do it, doesn't mean we can't." The tabby knew he didn't just mean Cedarkit.

Sproutkit's sixth moon was a highly anticipated event. His mentor, Doveface, was about as happy-go-lucky as he was. The two get along immediately, with Sproutpaw peppering the older warrior with questions. Though Doveface is friendly and encouraging, Sproutpaw finds his training bouncing from one topic to the next almost at random. His skills were honed at hodge-podge at best. While the apprentice does his best to push it off, he can't help but feel worried that he won't be ready for his warrior ceremony. Or worse, he won't be seen as ready to fight for his clan.

In his free time, the tom finds himself spending an increasing amount of time comforting an increasingly irate Fennelpaw. It wasn't hard for him to see that his brother did not get along with his mentor, Firfoot, at all. The tom does his best to listen, mostly because he agrees. On some days, this is more exhausting than he would've expected. It bothers him slightly that his brother could be this aggressive, this bloodthirsty.

Barely a few moons later, Sproutpaw witnessed the clan plunged into bloody war. Tensions boiled over on the borders, warriors drawn from their nests to battle. Strangely enough, very few of the apprentices were called to fight during the battle. He retreated to his den, irritated that his age was setting him back. He had been training for this! The tom watches from the shadow of the den, pelt bristling anxiously. When the survivors from the battle return, Sproutpaw is stunned. The scent of blood was overpowering, drenching the forest in a crimson wave. Prone bodies are laid to rest beneath the high-rock as a testament to the price of war. Fennelpaw and Sproutpaw are present for the vigil.

Thistleclan lost two warriors that day; Sproutpaw is determined to be a warrior to replenish the Thistleclan ranks.


Leafbare brought a mix of chilly winds and dropping temperatures. Snow coated the world in a white blanket. On border patrol, Sproutpaw was surprised to see a rogue she-cat his age disoriented at the border. Although wary at first, the conversation remains friendly. Aware of her age and lack of experience in dealing with clan cats, he provides her with a warning and even marks out the border for her. Just as he was about to see her off, their conversation was rudely interrupted. A Thistleclan warrior roughly pins the she-cat down, but Sproutpaw interjects before blood is shed. The two are forced to part ways, and he is distantly aware of a growing attraction towards her.

It isn't long before the weather deteriorated. The cats of Thistleclan soon awoke to a massive blizzard engulfing the island in snow. With his visibility reduced, Sproutpaw made little progress in hunting and fighting. Not one to be weighed down with boredom, however, the tabby eagerly accepts his mentor's offer for a hunt. Unfortunately, with the weather in effect, the hunt is less than successful. His kill was messy and he received frostbite on his toes.

Preferring to keep his paws busy, the tabby apprentice made himself useful in camp. He moves from den to den, dutifully excavating the dens that have collapsed from the weight of the snow-melt. One of these dens happens to be the den of his mother. Ironically, Sproutpaw becomes grateful for the blizzard, in that it has allowed him to spend more time with family. After some gentle prodding, he confides in her that he met Belladonna at the border, and furthermore, that he is interested in pursuing a friendship with her. Although rather disappointed, the grey and white molly didn't raise any further objections.

Despite the unorthodox methodology of his mentor, Sproutpaw grows into his own as a hunter. At thirteen moons, he is given his warrior name: Sproutwing, named for his energy and nimble footwork.

On the heels of the blizzard came the ravages of a fierce spring storm. Torrents of rain opened upon the earth, and the melted snows joined them to pool upon the vale. It was the dead of night when the flash flood came down with a merciless roar. Alarm seized Thistleclan from one end to the other. Awakened by his nightmare of drowning in his den, Sproutwing and Fennelfall rush to find Lilypad.