Ternclaw

lichenclan

blue ticked tabby with ochre eyes

His size, is undoubtedly the first thing you notice about Ternclaw. He stands scarcely taller than a large apprentice. Being neither gangly nor long-limbed, it's important to observe however that he doesn't hold an apprentice's proportions.

Rather Ternclaw is well-rounded, with slim, muscular legs meant for swimming. Sleek rather than thin; condensed, yet balanced. If you were to pick him up, you'd find him heavier than he appears. Scruffing this short tom would be no small matter however, and he's named accordingly. The large orange eyes that dominate his face habitually glint in warning. His dense pelt enables him to twist like a fish when pinned, thick and silvery grey in color.

While a cat who attempts to hides his thoughts, Ternclaw ultimately gives himself away with the various ticks of emotion that tend to control him. His tail is the metronome to his thoughts, and his ears—neat, sharp and perched high on his angular head—are mobile and expressive. His jaw will clench, his brows will arch, and his nose will wrinkle. He's striking in his authenticity, and generally quite unaware of these things.

In the same way, he moves with a punchy sort of grace, throwing his chest into his movements, all swing and forward momentum.

Uptight, sensitive.

In his desire to be the best example of his line, Ternclaw sometimes lacks confidence. Though he does a good job at appearing brash, it's that muscle in his chest that's often his worst enemy, provoking doubt almost as easy as it does anger. He isn't necessarily bad, inadequate, or even only average. But merely good, when overshadowed by those who are better, is not quite good enough.

Prickly, stubborn.

His short temper doesn't marry well with this apprehension. Often contradicted by himself, he struggles to act with the dispassion he envies and his pride is often accompanied by prickly, self-deprecation. In spite of a general feeling of inferiority however, Ternclaw doesn't give up easily. This has made him into a warrior who works hard and sticks stubbornly to his teachings, even if it may not always be for the most ideal of reasons.

Self-centered, extroverted.

While Ternclaw has a certain intellect and mental fastness, he seems generally unaware of the machinery that compels him, and often gets caught up in its snags without quite seeing the larger picture. His fixation on himself does mean he's often ignorant of the thoughts and feelings of cats around him, even those who are dearly important to him. Ternclaw is perhaps redeemed by his sociability though. While he can be sharp-tongued, he generally attempts to be amicable and fit in with those he likes. Even if occasionally that means dancing to someone else's tune. Smart and lively, he easily carries a discussion and certainly isn't the worst of conversational partners, even if a bit mouthy. He's swift to retort, but can wield his wit in good (mostly) humor too.

Prejudiced, pretentious.

While he will never happily abase himself, Ternclaw is predisposed to a blind loyalty to types who make him feel like a part of something larger than himself. He has strong ideals being loyalist leaning, but these are more inherited than decided, a product of his class and those he surrounds himself with.

Kithood:

Ternkit was born into a well established family. His parents had already raised a litter of toms, and his sister Littlekit was the apple of his grandmother's eye. She was taken under her wing to learn the ways of becoming a queen—boring business that thoroughly disinterested Ternkit—and he was to become another strong warrior in a line that already had them in spades. As a result the expectation that he would do well was a given, but didn't weigh especially heavy on his shoulders as it perhaps could have.

While bright, it could dare be said he was of slightly more delicate disposition than his  sibling. Sensitive, and at times, easily unnerved. Still determined to prove himself though, he quickly he found role models to idolize. He stuck to his older brothers like a burr, and trailed his father and various other warriors. His kithood was spent trying to imitate them on legs that weren't quite as long, and with steps that weren't nearly as refined. Soon enough, a competitiveness began to grow inside the kit, as well as something more unwieldy and awkward: a dissatisfaction.

As he grew bolder he tried to compete with other kits in the nursery, and hounded his older siblings when he could. Any kit bigger than him (which was all except Littlekit of course) would wrestle him down eventually though, and his brothers could turn him aside with a mere paw before they had to shrug him off to go complete their duties. While their laughter was usually good-natured, Ternkit soon came to dislike it. 

Adolescence:

By the time he became Ternpaw, the small tom still hadn't learned how to fail with grace, but at least how to bury it better. While his stature naturally predisposed him to feints and evasions, his own hesitation continued to frustrate him. Impatient, unsure, he lacked the natural aptitude to use his size as cunningly as he wanted to. Whenever other cats bettered him, he nursed resentments like weeds. His mentor, a strong enough warrior by the name of Longclaw (and stronger loyalist), helped direct the tom toward maneuvers he was more suited to however.

They also sharpened Ternpaw's negativity in a way that was far more 'productive', giving it an outlet in hauteur and prejudice. The young tom grew close with the coterie of cats who religiously followed Minnowstar's cause. He'd been raised to follow most their values already, but deep down, it was more that the approval of those that held distaste for many, felt like it had to be worth more. 

Adulthood:

Becoming a warrior wasn't the shining rite he'd imagined it to be as a kit, but it still felt good. Yet, Ternclaw believed he could be better. Bitter and desirous of esteem, he fed on the conflict brought to the island by Minnowstar and Lily's machinations. Only when rogues entered their midst and were granted ranks above anything they should've ever hoped to gain, did the warrior finally feel conflicted. Generations had cultivated LichenClan's elite, and he'd been raised on the idea that status wasn't something that could be easily given.  

Many of the things they fought for he still continued to believe were their right however: fighting alongside rogues was a means to an end he believed that couldn't outlast the war. Their two-bit natures would oust them naturally, or Minnowstar would come to her senses.

When the final battle arrived at LichenClan, Ternclaw fought for the losing side, grappling with the invaders. He defeated a RedwoodClanner but let them slip through his claws at the last moment, and then was overwhelmed by the attack and wounded. Only when the news the shore was taken and Minnowstar had fled rippled through the warring cats, that panting, battered and bloodied, did he sheathe his claws with the rest of his beaten Clanmates.

Granted amnesty like the other loyalists, Ternclaw didn't entirely willingly welcome the peace that Yarrowstar brought LichenClan, but didn't pit himself against it either. He'd never been a cat to side with the few rather than the many. He found an equilibrium he'd been lacking for a life spent mostly at war, but it was unsettling. Without battles to gear himself toward, it was an unsatisfactory outcome perhaps not because he felt denied the retribution he'd been given to assume LichenClan deserved, but because Ternclaw was uncertain what routes were now available to him to distinguish himself. This of course wasn't something he entirely realized however, even if he did become more introspective and calculating. 

His injuries left a long gash across his flank that healed to a scar. In the seasons since the warrior has become quieter than the emphatic cat he was during the height of Minnowstar's leadership, but no less cynical. He distrusts their neighbors, and thinks that the designs on a pacifistic LichenClan is a kitten's dream that cannot last.