Gloom gathering beneath the branches

Tribe of Floating Stones

a muscular black and white tom with yellow eyes

Gloom is a large tom with bulky wide shoulders and toned muscles. He wears the scars of past battles, but rarely can they be spotted beneath his swathes of dark furs. In his age, he has only grown more rugged, though not disheveled outside of rumple to his pelt and the occasional silvered hair across his muzzle. He walks with purpose, never dragging his feet, his lumbering never seeming oafish but instead menacing. Gloom has worked hard for all that he has in his many moons of life on the island, and with each movement of his body, this underlying pride is on full display.

The tom has elongated, thick whiskers that sprout from his face, and a flow of lighter grey fur extending from each ear. His forehead is large and his brows low, narrowing his eyes in a constant look of judgment.

Gloom's fur is jet black in color, though, when the sun shines upon it during the hot months it grows bleached and deep auburn brown. The break in the darkness is the white furs along the tom's chest, extending to his chin. Each paw is pale in color as well, as though padding through winter snow for too long turned them icy white in color.

Gloom never knew how not to face the world and not share his opinions, no matter how rude. He is a proud tom from a proud family, raised to keep his heritage close to him. Historically, his family comes from a long line of stone guards. As such, he holds great pride in all of the accomplishments of his ancestors, as well as his own. He tends to project this attitude forward but in a negative manner, viewing those who try not to follow their destinies as weak. He will not hide his judgment and is sharp-tongued with his wording. Never has he been known to keep his mouth shut.

Gloom is confident in his skills, and for good reason. He is a well-practiced stoneguard of many years and has not begun his decline even at his ascending age. The tom goes into scenarios with high expectations of himself and usually, his confidence benefits him - as he never half-asses an attempt at success. He works hard to maintain his high esteem and the respect of his tribemates and will do anything to keep pace with those that are high achievers such as himself.

Gloom struggles to wait for much of anything. He wants to charge into the world and make his own destiny and hates having to let time take its course. Instead, he'd much prefer taking life by the scruff and making a future he wants to see. He is incredibly loyal to those close to him and is a provider by nature. He wants nothing but to live a life of grandeur with a chosen family of stoneguards.

mother: bluebell dusted with pollen
father: waterfall under the earth
sister: moon who shimmers upon serene sea
mate: larkspur clasping rainfall
1st son: burrow where foxes hide
2nd son: butterfly who dances in the wind


Bluebell and Waterfall were pleased to find themselves pregnant with kittens. They each cared greatly for their ancestors and the wishes of their recent families and were glad to have the opportunity to bring strong, well-respected stoneguards into the world. Each was large and powerful in stature and design, a perfect match to create large and powerful children. Rain, the teller, described the images seen within her mind, sent by the endless themselves, and Bluebell and Waterfall named their children accordingly. Both visages of the night, each suited for the dark-furred siblings - the image of the moon upon the water, and a view of branches from below, blotting out the light. They were named moon who shimmers upon the serene sea and Gloom gathering beneath the branches, respectively.


Gloom and Moon were young kittens and to-bes when the tribe began to boom in numbers. Prey and herbs are abundant - the tribe sees newfound success in both taming the wilds but also in increasing their previously limited population. Gloom and Moon both thrive in the growing number of kits around their age, friends, and rivals filling their days with both fun and the drive to work hard and prosper.

Gloom was made a fledgling Stoneguard with many of his closest companions. He shared a great sense of comradery with those he had grown close to during his training. Moon, on the other paw, drifted away from Gloom and his family in her youth, eventually joining the ranks of the preyhunters. Gloom quickly rose to become the favored son, having fulfilled the familial tradition of strength and power. He held his parent's esteem with great pride, often looking down at his sister as a creature of weakness.


Gloom exceeds in his fledgling training, forging himself a worthwhile place even at a young age. He graduates early as a fully-fledged stoneguard at 15 moons old. For the rest of the season, he finds confidence in a young she-cat named Larkspur Clasping Rainfall. She is also a young stoneguard descended from a long line of stoneguards. Gloom is impressed by her skills and, after they first become friends, finds himself gravitating toward her more than any of his other comrades.

Throughout Gloom's second season, he spent a great deal of his time courting Larkspur, whether it was long walks by the shore or more physical endeavors such as lifting boulders and tearing down branches as they completed their stoneguard duties. Each grew more and more fond of the other until they decided to make their matehood official and build a shared den far from each parent's den. They moved great stones and cleared thickets of brambles searching for the perfect spot. It was a small crevice shorn into the cliff-face of a ledge, fortified and sheltered by rocks and thick branches gathered by the pair of stoneguards. They were proud of their den and, early in the season, decided to have children together.


Their first litter was a single tom that looked much like his father in stature and appearance. He was densely built with a white chin, a feature that Gloom often compared to his own likeness with pride. The teller described a family of young foxes sequestered within the earth, and thus, their son was named Burrow Where Foxes Hide.

It was amusing to Gloom to watch Larkspur spoil the kitten, and to see how protective she became over him whenever the other youngsters came to play. Burrow did not make many friends, but Gloom was content to know that Larkspur loved him and that he would always have a father to look up to. Gloom was not quite as paws-on as Burrow's mother, a more distant tom that rarely displayed much emotion outside of frustration and pride. It was as Gloom's father was, always seen at a distance, and it was a manner of parenting that Gloom greatly respected his father for. He wanted to prove himself a strong figure for Burrow to look up to, allowing Larkspur to do all of the coddlings.

When Burrow left the nest and began his training, both Gloom and Larkspur spent many moments training him in the ways of a stoneguard. They held him in great esteem in those days, for, even when his soft heart fluttered and failed to strike them fiercely, he grew stronger and more capable day after day. He was Gloom's legacy, and the tom was certain to make sure his son would become just like he was.


Gloom had not known true disapointment until he heard his son called a preyhunter fledgling upon his 12th moon. He and Larkspur stared at the tribestone with shock plain across their faces - daggers held in their eyes. The immediate assumption was that Creek had made a mistake. He was a new teller, one who had not seen even a season. Rain had tragically died to the sweeping sickness, not a moon before - a plague that luckily left Gloom's family untouched - and left the strange young tom in her wake. But, upon speaking to their son, both parents were horrified to realize that Burrow had requested his place among those that Gloom had always regarded as weaker.

Larkspur held out hope that Burrow would change his mind and realize his potential, but Gloom's hope was destroyed. He had never known such a weakness could grow from his own kin, just as it had his sister. There were many frailer, lithe forms meant to be preyhunters. Any cat could hunt if they put their mind to it, but not all had the physical strength to become the backbone of the tribe.

Gloom all but abandoned his son except for the occasional untoward glance or belittling comment. He'd watch as his son set off to fish at dawn and return to the cavern of his home at night. Each time his son brought home a catch, Larkspur struggled to act grateful. But Gloom simply glowered and filled his belly, wishing that he had pulled the fish off of the freshkill pile and not from the water.

During the winter, the plague set in on the island once again. This time, it was not so easily ignored by Gloom as it stole away his father. He mourned his loss and moved on as though his father never existed at all. And yet, the fact of his demise haunts him. What would happen should Gloom suffer a similar fate? How could he resign himself to allow Burrow to be his only descendant? Gloom convinced Larkspur to attempt another litter not long after his father's passing.


The clans and their evil schemes surface to the tribe's awareness as the masses across the sandbar cannot seem to decide whether the tribe deserves their assistance or to be at the end of their fangs. Gloom advocates for war - to take what the tribe needs and thrive without accepting the clan's ways. He is turned down swiftly. When the sandbar is destroyed, he cannot help but feel that he gave up too quickly - that his tribe should have struck the clans using their unique skills instead of waiting for saviors they could not rely on.

Meanwhile, Gloom continues to gain renown for his great feats of strength and prowess. He captures and kills a series of young foxes during the warm moons, with Larkspur and his closest stoneguard comrades, and is celebrated by his tribemates for clearing the moors to be safer for lone preyhunters. During that time, he suffers several severe wounds but recovers from each after being tended to by Creek. Despite the pair's conflicting viewpoints on the clans, they seem to bond during Gloom's time of healing. He grows to respect Creek, despite the strange tom's oddness and inexperience.


Creek tells Larkspur that she is pregnant early in the season. Both Gloom and Larkspur are thrilled - while their aging son does still live in their den, Gloom and him had become strangers. Gloom is excited about the prospect of having a son fitter to live a stoneguard's lifestyle - unlike Burrow who he had grown to resent as a failure.

Creek has a vision of a meadow filled with plants. Grand flowers bloomed, and insects buzzed about freely. Amidst the center, a brown butterfly flapped its wings, flying freely on a gust too intense for any cat to keep pace with. So he was called Butterfly who Dances in Wind. The young tom looked much unlike Burrow and Gloom, instead taking the form of Larkspur with soft blues instead of sharper black hues. Where he lacked the height of his father he made up for in raw muscle, always surprising Gloom when the pair wrestled in the kit’s younger moons.

Gloom mourned the friend he found in Creek and carried on, never the type to wallow in death. And yet, he felt apprehensive as Fog became leader. He saw the fog that choked prey and summoned coyotes to the island and felt oddly about the dynamic he saw between the young tom and his adopted father and lead stoneguard. Usually cordial at worst with Talon, Gloom began to drift away, concerned that Fog's position was in part nepotism and not the will of the ancestors.

Gloom spends a great deal of his time training and playing with his second son, finding the valiant, spirited tom much more the child he wished to have as his legacy. He never felt more proud than when he saw Butterfly announced as a stoneguard fledgling. He knew that his son would carry his family's name well, and cared little about how Burrow seemed especially awkward when in the company of both his father and brother.


Gloom found that Fog continuously disappointed him, leading the tribe in complex but ultimately dangerous courses of action. Sumac also troubled him, however, so he lingered in between, unsure which side to take. He never imagined that anything would come of Sumac's strange speeches, assuming that, with time, Fog would grow wiser and more experienced. He hoped to gain an understanding with the tom as he had with Creek before, though Gloom and Fog never shared space together until it was too late.

When the fire struck, Gloom managed to rescue his mate and his son but was unable to find his mother in the wreckage of his familial den. Never was her body recovered, buried under land loosened by a burned, newly lacking root structure. He mourned and moved on, not allowing himself to spend more than a day saddened by her departure.

It was a stoneguard's duty to be strong enough to withstand even the most fierce coyote's jaws, to not be crushed beneath boulders, to not feel paralyzed in grief. And it was a father's duty to be stronger.

Sumac's rise to power was not unexpected, but the intensity of his hatred did surprise the wizened stoneguard. He grew bitter and vile, desperate to hurt Sumac's regime in any way he could. He revolted verbally and disobeyed each order. With every attempt at punishment, he pushed harder, never submitting to any for his pride would never allow such weakness. He worked solely for Sumac's eventual demise, yearning for every opportunity to find an end to the creature so reviled.