Minkjaw

Redwood Clan

tawny she-cat with thick fur and green eyes

Though Minkjaw is on the small side for a Redwood Clan cat, what she loses in bulk she more than makes up for in ferocity. She carries her self with confidence, often giving off the impression she's taller than she is. Her thick fur covers lean muscle, depending on speed and bursts of power to make up for what she lacks in strength and stamina.

Minkjaw might be considered pretty, if she didn't carry herself with a permanent sense of disapproval. Her pelt is a gentle tabby, alternating between white and cream coat with dark brown or tawny stripes. The very tip of her tail and ears blush a darker brown/grey, but other than that her coat tends on the more pale side. Mothjaw will grudgingly admit her pelt is her one vanity - she hates when its rumpled or tangled, and prefers to give off a 'put together' image at all times. As such its kept clean and sleek as often as she can manage. She has a few scars, most notably two small scratches over her muzzle and one over her right shoulder - nothing dramatic, just the markings any warrior who's suffered through the recent tumultuous moons.

Mothjaw's tabby traits are most visible in her face, dark brown striping down to a slender muzzle and dark nose. Her expression is most often a frown, brows knit in furious thought or preparing to launch into a lecture.

One thing that could never be said about Mothjaw is that she was not loyal to her clan. From kithood, Mothjaw had an unflinching faith in the Warrior Code and in the strength of Redwood Clan. As a young warrior, she is dutiful and dedicated, much happier when working than when trying to get along with any of her peers (her social skills are, shall we say, lacking). She's happy to take the hardest, grossest and most unpleasant jobs as needed. She's aware of her inexperience as a warrior, and that pushes her to try and and learn more about the world as quickly as possible...which often lands her in the medicine den due to thoughtless injuries or colds from overworking. 

Despite her brashness, in general Mothjaw manages to keep a level head. She's serious to a fault, but has a handle on her temper and can think well under pressure. Though kits make her nervous, she has a soft spot for elders, and sometimes she feels they're the only ones she gets along with. 

Through her grave attitude toward work and life, Mothjaw has become a bit of a loner. There's no ill will or bullying that lead to this result - she just never knew how to relate to her more frivolous denmates or apprentice peers, and as a warrior she doesn't consider herself as having time for fun and games. Tough this loneliness is certainly a weakness, Mothjaw may not be at the point of realizing that herself just yet. 

Mothkit was born in a litter of three to an older queen, Mosspatch, at the end of leaf-fall. Mosspatch never shared who the father of the kits was, seeming unconcerned and aloof with the matter. Even when Mothkits two siblings, Hopkit and Hawkkit, died from greencough, Mosspatch refused to rely on any other cat for help. As refugees began to come to Redwood Clan from Lichen Clan, Mosspatch only became more protective over her lone surviving kit. 

Mothkit felt the pressure to succeed as her mother's only surviving kit, and probably the last littler she would ever have. As Mothkit silently watched leafbare bring clan changes, war and death, she vowed one day she would be strongest warrior of the clan, and protect everyone herself.

Her apprenticeship began during a time of continued upheval in the clan. Much of her apprentice training was battle focused as a result, something she showed great promise at. She grew up with a great admiration for Finchstar, and to an almost greater extent, Icesong. As the tumult with Lichen Clan continued, Mothpaw grew up in a suspicious, dangerous time, which further buried in her a need to be hyper-vigilant.

She received her warrior name just a few moons before the final assault on Lichen Clan. She was given the suffix of 'jaw' in honor of the fierce and nearly impossibly to shake bites she favors in battle. Now, still a young warrior, Mothjaw finds herself uncertain how to function during this period of shaky peace. All she can remember is war and battle and the fear of war and battle. These memories are what drive her to live ever day as if an attack might come again just once the sun sets...