Sorrelsong

lichenclan

long-haired tortoiseshell point she-cat with blue eyes

Aristocratic in appearance, it is no wonder the she-cat is of high birth and status. Sorrelsong adorns a nimble, slender frame and moderately tall legs. While she does not boast the meager heights of a RedwoodClan queen, she is above average in her own Clan and towers over some of the other she-cats she frequently shares tongues with. The tortoiseshell carries an elegant, swan-like neck, which only bolsters her dignified aura. With seasons of queenly duties behind her, the she-cat has put on some noticeable weight compared to her days of youth, mostly gathered at her waist and hind-quarters. Yet she walks with a learned maturity, head held high and tail erect.

Tresses of warm cream colored fur that grows darker and more mottled at her extremities adorn her noble frame. Her face, limbs, and tail are a rich brown in hue, broken by speckles of cream and other earthly shades, making her a tortoiseshell pointed she-cat. The rest of her feathered pelt is light, almost white in appearance when caught beneath the sunny patches of an afternoon glow or under the curve of a silver moon. Her back and lower flank are slightly darker in colors, reflecting the mottled pattern on her extremities. While not terribly long, her coat is medium in length, offering some protection during the island's harsh leaf-bares.

Sorrelsong carries a long angular face of striking features. Her cheek-bones sit precariously on her visage, high and pronounced. While the rest of her face narrows out into a defined chin, its color a speckled white. She carries large pointed ears that angle out further than the average cat, and trailing long whiskers. Against the dark hues of her face, sit two shocking blue eyes, the color of the lake on a clear day. Her left eye adorns an old scar where the she-cat was struck in the midst of battle. Catching the delicate fold of her third-eyelid, the she-cat now lives with a permanent squint since it refuses to completely close. However it's hardly noticeable nor does it mar her sight.

Guided by intense emotion rather than reason, it has taken Sorrelsong many seasons to learn how to abade her tongue. Born within a Clan who does not value outspokenness or individuality, Sorrelsong faced many consequences for her inability to relent and recede into the crowd. She is a passionate she-cat who feels her emotions and beliefs very strongly. This makes her a warm-hearted and compassionate figure to her den-mates, a regular caretaker within the stone walls of the nursery, who can easily empathize and extend a comforting paw.

As a young she-cat, she consistently faced ridicule and punishment for her emotional outbursts. When faced with an injustice, Sorrelsong wrestles to remain quiet and submit to leadership. She is righteous regarding the political climate of her Clan and the way they treat she-cats. It is a great injustice to her, especially considering the rights other she-cats have across the border. Sometimes her morally driven tirades verge on self-righteous behavior where nobody but her is right, and therefore, ethically just and superior. This can make her quite judgemental toward her Clan-mates and gives Sorrelsong a savior complex.

It is only with age has she become a dignified figure who is able to present herself seriously and with composure. It is a learned trait, one she picked up out of necessity to survive within her Clan. Yet the she-cat still struggles with her sedulous nature, always refusing to give up or abandon her hopes and dreams, even if it would be much better for the she-cat to do so. This can make her impatient and rash in conversation when she's trying to deliver a point or advocate for change. Sorrelsong is sometimes too stubborn and uncompromising for her own good. It's difficult to change her mind.

Bluepetal and Frostfoot only came together as a result of their high-status and blue blood, and not a relationship born from the fires of a passionate romance or a sordid love affair. As young warriors, their parents arranged for their coupling, if only to ensure a future of strong LichenClan warriors. They birthed two healthy kits the following new-leaf, a she-cat and a tom. They both carried their noble blood, high noses, and long-limbs.

Bluepetal and Frostfoot felt very hopeful for the future of their kits. Sorrelkit and Dustkit were immediately taught in the ways of their Clan. The Heron-blood was superior. StarClan guided their very paths. RedwoodClan was full of heathens. ThistleClan wasn't any better. She-cats belonged in the nursery. Sorrelkit would always listen, teeth chewing thoughtfully at the inside of her cheek, as she considered the lessons her parents so graciously imparted with her. It made sense.

Sagestar was their leader and his blood carried the blood of their noble ancestors. StarClan belonged in the sky, and could therefore, easily see what mere shore-dwellers could not. Sorrelkit never met a cat from RedwoodClan or ThistleClan, so what was there to argue? And she-cats? Well her beautiful mother, Bluepetal, was a dutiful queen and so were the other she-cats. It was her destiny too, even though jealousy plagued her every night as she watched her brother wrestle with the other nursery kits.

As an apprentice, Sorrelpaw mentored under the tutelage of an older queen named Rosepelt. The elderly she-cat was nearing retirement, but agreed to train just one more apprentice. She was strict with the young she-cat and taught her more traditionally than most. While some of her other female peers, like Cricketpaw, were fortunate enough to learn some defensive sparring techniques, Rosepelt only structured Sorrelpaw's physical training to keep her fit as a future queen. It was simply un-she-cat-like to learn how to fight and went against StarClan's holy plan for her.

Sorrelpaw watched the other apprentices with increasing jealousy.

When she was only eight moons old, her brother, Dustpaw, was sent into battle, an attempt to procure the MoonCave. He died before sunrise, slain in the bloody throes of war. Bluepetal refused to let her daughter see his body once they returned to camp. So Sorrelpaw never saw her brother again. Suddenly the pressure on the young she-cat increased as the only remaining heir to her parent's perfectly constructed arrangement. They had to find her a future mate and soon. Bluepetal began to chat with the other queens.

Distraught over her brother's death, Sorrelpaw wrestled with constant bouts of insomnia. She would lay for hours upon hours in her nest, thinking about her destiny as a future queen, and the more she thought about it, the less it made sense. Why can't I be a warrior? There were other she-cats in the Clan, like Minnowleap and Duckpuddle, who readily volunteered for battle, despite the ridicule they faced in return. Why couldn't that be her?

The young she-cat began to sneak out of camp at night and try to train herself alone on the shore. It was difficult to judge her own progress without a mentor who supported her vision. Yet she was determined to prove herself as useful, especially as the war progressed with RedwoodClan and LichenClan lost its deputy, Smokemask, in battle. Curiously Sorrelpaw awaited Sagestar's announcement, wondering if Minnowleap, his granddaughter, would be appointed as the next deputy. She was of Heron-blood and a powerful warrior. But Molefur, a rather unassuming and meek tom was selected instead. Her face hardened. They were nothing but bodies to him, weren't they?

At twelve moons, she earned her name: Sorrelsong. News of her approaching arrangement soon followed. Bluepetal had not selected a mate for her, but she was close to making the final decision. Sorrelsong grew increasingly flighty and avoided her mother at all costs. She did anything to remain outside of camp. On one such random patrol, the she-cat found herself in the company of an older tom, Hemlockheart. He was a handsome warrior, quiet and thoughtful in nature, and despite his younger age, already a known threat on the battlefield.

They were out hunting, just the two of them, when Sorrelsong fumbled her catch and lost the gull she was stalking. Angrily she threw her paw into the shoreline, a growl resounding in her throat. Quietly Hemlockheart asked if she was alright, sensing her frustration. Wildly the she-cat glanced up at him, an accumulation of fury and hatred boiling in her gut. She exploded on him.

"Am I alright!" Sorrelsong lashed out. "My mother's seconds away from determining the rest of my life, and I don't even get a say in it. None of us do!"

She eyed vehemently, no longer caring about the repercussions of her status. "You can't possibly know what it's like to be told your entire life you can't be something, just because you were born the wrong thing."

The she-cat shook, trembling with anger. "But I can — I just know I could be a warrior if they just gave me a—gah! I hate it so much." Sorrelsong slammed her paw into the shoreline once more. Tears sprang to her eyes. She grew quiet, then solemnly looked at the tom who watched her in silence.

Hemlockheart thought for a long moment before replying. "I agree."

Sorrelsong drew in a surprised breath. "You do?"

"My father wants me to sit on the sidelines and just let RedwoodClan destroy everything our clan has worked for," he meowed, conviction entering his voice. "Everyone should be fighting for StarClan, not just our toms."

She blinked. "Oh," she replied. So he did understand. "Sorry about your father."

He glanced at her, a slight shrug at his shoulders, before pushing himself to his paws and flicking his tail. "Come, let us finish our hunt."

They finished their hunt in a comfortable silence, and when they parted, Sorrelsong had a newfound respect for the tom. She watched him pad to the warrior's den, too shy to return with him. Something else blossomed within her chest too, a feeling that made her knees tremble and cheeks blush.

A week later, she asked Hemlockheart to train her, using the information he shared as a springboard for companionship. If everyone should be fighting for StarClan, why not her? He readily agreed, enjoying the prospect of a challenge and a chance to mentor someone. As they spent more time together, Sorrelsong grew more enamored with the older tom, though she'd never share this with anyone. Secretly she hoped her mother's arrangement would bring good news. While she didn't want to be a queen, perhaps if it was with him, it wouldn't be so bad?

When she was sixteen moons old, Bluepetal announced her daughter's arrangement. Sorrelsong was to be mated to the promising young Storkwing, another tom of blue blood and high kills in battle. She received the news with a stiff nod, though on the inside her stomach twisted and her heart ached. Unable to bear the weight of her destiny, Sorrelsong bolted from camp soon after and hid herself away in the sea caves. It was only her father, Frostfoot, furious and cruel, who found the she-cat in the dead of night and forced her back to camp. Tearfully she fought her arrangement, once more losing her composure.

"No," she shouted. "I will not do it. I do not love him. I want nothing to do with him. I—" Sagestar appeared from the mouth of his den, eyes narrowed and cold. Her whining had disturbed his slumber. Angrily he sentenced Sorrelsong to a moon in the catacombs. Her parents were horrified, but too loyal to Sagestar to fight the charge, so they watched her be led away, their entire life's work taken from them in one night. The tortoiseshell she-cat was pushed into stone prisons and thrown into the lightless cavern. A guard was posted outside of her door to make sure she couldn't escape. Forlorn and ashamed, Sorrelsong spent the majority of her imprisonment in the far corner, refusing most food and water.

Storkwing came to fetch her a moon later. "Come," he meowed. "Your time is up."

Sorrelsong didn't turn. "I don't answer to you."

He laughed softly, as if amused by the she-cat's defiant nature. "Your mother warned me you were a handful." She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing him warily in the darkness. Storkwing was not an unattractive tom, but she felt nothing gazing upon him.

The tom moved toward her. She flinched. "Don't touch me," she hissed, finally turning to face him. "I know other she-cats let their mates have their way with them, but—" Storkwing paused, face sloping into a frown. "What?" He asked, genuinely confused. Realization dawned on him. "What, no. I'm not—" His face flushed, suddenly embarrassed. "No, I was only going to help you up." His brows popped. "If you need it. You've just been down here for a long time. That's all."

Reluctantly the she-cat leaned into his shoulder and he guided her out of the catacombs and into her new life as a queen.

Becoming Storkwing's mate wasn't all too bad. The older tom was patient with her, never pushing Sorrelsong's boundaries, and as moons passed, she began to relax and learn to enjoy the tom's presence. Though she never felt a spark of romance around him. They were only ever gentle companions, and that was more than most LichenClan she-cats were ever offered. So she accepted it, despite dashing away her dreams in the same breath.

Occasionally her path would cross with Hemlockheart's, and their eyes would catch. Her heart would thump. Then she'd swallow it down and push ahead, not wanting to disturb the tom. They had not talked in moons. It would be weird. Besides, Hemlockheart was steadily climbing the social ladder within the Clan. It would do him little good to chat with the she-cat who was thrown into the catacombs for disobeying. They would much be much better off never speaking again.

As the season turned, Molefur was mysteriously found dead in the lake and as the only sole Heron-survivor, Minnowleap was appointed deputy. She was the first she-cat to be appointed to a leadership role in decades. Sorrelsong's heart leapt during Sagestar's announcement. An old fire rekindled. Will there be change?

Though she kept her desires hidden, the she-cat couldn't help but feel invigorated by Minnowleap's appointment. It made her feel like she was one of the she-cats in RedwoodClan and ThistleClan, those she met at Gatherings. They were always so cunning and powerful and confident. She longed for their freedom.

Two moons pass by and Sagestar does not return from battle. The old, war-ridden tom was found gasping for his final breath on the RedwoodClan border. As tradition, Minnowstar journeyed to the MoonCave and received her nine lives. To Sorrelsong's surprise, Minnowstar appointed Hemlockheart as her first deputy. The she-cat remembered their first conversation so many moons ago. He was in favor of teaching queens how to fight, so perhaps Minnowstar would also be open to the idea.

"Minnowstar," she meowed, "May I speak with you?" She stood awkwardly outside of the she-cat's den. Cool green eyes fall upon her from within the shadows. They narrowed into slits.

"I have a busy afternoon ahead of me," she growled. Sorrelsong swallowed, suddenly nervous. The leader was intimidating, despite her small stature. "Out with it. I don't have all day."

"Oh, I apologize. I don't mean to—" She paused, not wanting to sound like a bumbling idiot in front of her leader, especially someone she admired so much. "Right. I just wanted to stop by and gauge your interest in a training regime for the older queens I was—" Minnowstar snorted, amusement dancing across her face.

"A queen training regime? And what's next? Should we send our kits into war? Charge our elders first into battle?"

Sorrelsong stared at the silver and white she-cat in shock. "Excuse me?"

"Out. I don't have time for this. I have much more important matters to attend to." Pointedly she gestured for the she-cat to leave her den. Too startled to do much else, Sorrelsong left Minnowstar's den, anger brewing in her stomach. Minnowstar was just like everybody else, if not worse. How can she treat her own sex like that! The she-cat's hopes and dreams started to dwindle away.

Around her twenty-sixth moon on the island, Sorrelsong gave birth to three healthy kits. While she never considered her mate as her lover, she eventually performed her duty to him and bore children. They named them Brindlekit, Dipperkit, and Breamkit, a she-cat and two toms. Despite never wanting to be a queen, Sorrelsong found purpose in becoming their mother and cared for them diligently. Storkwing was an attentive father, who at Sorrelsong's urging, never treated Brindlekit any differently and taught all young kits how to spar.

Though she-cats were still expected to birth kits and arrangements were popular among her den-mates, times within LichenClan were changing — slowly but surely. Young she-cat's were defying their destiny for the nursery and choosing to fight instead. Despite looking down on queens, Minnowstar did not deny a body. So she let them train if they proved any promise. Sorrlesong's heart leapt at the thought. Desperately she wanted a much different world for her children, especially her daughter.

When her kits left the nursery, Sorrelsong found herself missing their company and felt amiss with her purpose. What was she supposed to do with her kits grown? A part of her thought about having more, but she couldn't bring herself to bed Storkwing again, enjoying his friendship instead. Another part of her wanted to join the young she-cat's and their desire to train and fight, but already her reputation as a mother marked her. Nobody wanted to train an old queen, already considered too soft and weak.

If she wanted to train, she'd have to train by herself or — Her eyes found Hemlockheart more often than not, wondering if the deputy would take her out for to spar again. But she tucked the desire away. With the war on RedwoodClan ramping up, he didn't have time for an old washed up queen like herself.

So she looked elsewhere for purpose, and found it wherever she could prove herself useful, whether it was assisting younger queens with their kits, coaching them through their births, or guiding them through tough situations with their mates. Sorrelsong also taught herself the herbs queens commonly sought out, like cures for dried-up milk and kitten coughs, and became good friends with the other nursery queens.

One night, Minnowstar leapt upon the high-ledge and declared that Hemlockheart's body was found dead on the RedwoodClan border. Sorrelsong's heart twisted. Long had her feelings faded for the tom, but a tiny spark remained, a longing that sometimes kept her up at night. She swallowed it for the last time.

She was not put this island to experience a passionate romance or to fight in a battle. She belonged behind those nursery walls.

After Hemlockheart's death, LichenClan appointed Bristlefur in his place, but he too, soon disappointed Minnowstar. Rogues crept into their ranks, promised to be delivered by StarClan. Sorrelsong did her best to keep them from the nursery. Yet they infiltrated every nook and cranny. Her Clan no longer felt safe. She worried for her friends and her children.

It was during an ambush did Storkwing never return from battle. Killed by a RewoodClan warrior, her mate took his final breath. Hurt and devastated by the news, Sorrelsong sat vigil with her children and honored her mate's loss in solemn sadness. Despite everything, she loved him, and without his presence, who was she? A queen without a mate? Without kits?

Tirelessly, Sorrelsong pressed on, continuing to tend to the new mothers and their kits in the nursery as war continued to wage upon their Clan. Nothing else made sense to her. As much as her daughter tried to convince her otherwise, she could not become a warrior. Her life was only fit to become a queen. So when Minnowstar sent war patrols to both RedwoodClan and ThistleClan, Sorrelsong remained back in camp, wringing her paws and hoping for her children's safe return.

After LichenClan's victory, a blood moon rises above the island during the height of summer. Sorrelsong watches it solemnly from the cave. It was an omen. This she knew. But for what? The she-cat pondered. Perhaps StarClan was finally punishing their Clan for moons of oppression.

As green-leaf turned into leaf-fall, Bristlefur mysteriously vanished, leaving LichenClan without a deputy. Lily, the rogue, stepped in to take his place, to the chagrin of every LichenClan warrior. LichenClan was suddenly a volitile place, even for a queen. Sorrelsong simply chose to keep her head down, refusing to cause any trouble. The wild she-cat of her youth was long gone. Unknowingly, she slipped into a deep depression, no longer having Storkwing to guide her.

It was only during the final battle of the Great War when she finally snapped out of it. Brought forth by the gallant efforts of her den-mates, Sorrelsong ventured onto the shore, looking for any living bodies among the dead. She found an abandoned rogue kitten instead. Comatose and beside his dead mother's body, Sorrelsong swiftly grasped him between her jowls and carried him back to camp.

A newly named Hemlockheart was waiting for her. Like a phantom, he returned to LichenClan and defeated Minnowstar in the tunnels. StarClan granted him nine lives and named him Yarrowstar, the new leader of LichenClan. Beside him, Quickstrike, the former rebellion leader, was elected as deputy. It was a new era for LichenClan.

At once, Sorrelsong sought out her old friend and asked for the rogue kit's safety. Yarrowstar immediately accepted him, offering the young kit a place in the Clan to train as an apprentice. They named him Palepaw.

Slowly, Sorrelsong nursed him back to health, but soon, he too left the nursery, once again leaving her with nothing to do. What was she? A queen without kits? It was a pathetic life really, but perhaps not without merit. At Tidechaser's chiding, Sorrelsong agreed to sticking around and helping out the new queens and their kits. New-leaf was approaching. Perhaps she wasn't completely useless yet.