Oystersnow

Lichenclan

longhair mink point she-cat with blue eyes

Oystersnow is an elegant molly with tidy furs and lissome curves coming together to create the image of a well-bred aristocrat bearing a winsome disposition. Her shallow flanks are accentuated by plush cream furs dusted with deep chocolate brown on her face, flank, and limbs; greatly accentuated by the startling azure of her eyes. Oystersnow is willowy in build and diminuitive in height, traits offset by her delicately lofted tail and upraised chin. Her eyelids are often drooping into a foxy and coy squint and her mouth bears a sly smirk.

pos. traits affable, insightful, charismatic, composed, proactive, nurturing
neu. traits meticulous, ambitious, beguiling, competitive
neg. traits opportunistic, manipulative, jealous, artful, deceptive, cynical

Inherently sociable, Oystersnow has learned to turn her winsome disposition into a mask. Youngest in her litter, she's had to compete for every ounce of attention given. Her skills with conversation and social etiquette have only increased with age, a silver tongue melting walls and warming the senses. She enjoys the art of threading through silken words and polite niceties to reveal intentions and motivations and is patient enough to wait for the right opportunity to strike before pitching in.

Well-versed in the dance of smoke and mirrors, Oystersnow is a guarded she-cat. She keeps her own counsel when it comes to private affairs. For someone as suave as her, airy deflections and harmless lies come easily, a beatific smile or a harmless shrug inserted in conversations when the topics swing too close to home. In the practice of retaining her facade, her artful demeanor helps her remain somewhat detached from her actions —  monitoring a situation objectively and neutrally for the best outcome. Unfortunately, over the moons, Oystersnow has become so well-versed in deception that she cannot even be honest with herself. Her artifice and silver tongue are not infallible and when she senses that others are prying too close to the truth, she'll shut down or abruptly redirect the conversation.

The surname of snow was not given lightly. The she-cat believes that to approach a situation rashly and without deliberation is to set yourself up for failure. Everything is a practiced act, from the dainty loft of her tail to the down-to-earth manner in which Oystersnow conducts her analyses, inferences, and deductions. Saccharine smiles are all but absent from Oystersnow's vocabulary when she gets into the heart of the matter, relying instead on insight and intuition. Queens and warriors alike occasionally consider her honesty snide and disrespectful, but she does not dwell on such matters. Whatever she has decided on, she'll carry out to the end and her determination waits on no one. Similarly, Oystersnow is rather grounded in her faith and refuses to trust in the divine in a superstitious manner like her clanmates. She believes not in the divine blessing of a bloodline, but rather in the glory and riches crafted from a cat's own paws. Disillusioned from a youth where the affection she was granted was mostly withheld, she trusts in a world where she crafts her own fate. This discontented manner of thinking drives her mind to consciously seek out that which she desires without waiting for others to beckon her.

Oystersnow is decidedly her own judge and jury, and will never take the assumptions and beliefs of others for granted unless it benefits her. A cat with clear wants and desires, her hearty temperament masks a cunning vixen of a she-cat, one who hesitates at very little in her conduct and passions. She boldly takes hold of fortune and chance offered by immediate circumstance with a jealous and unyielding grip, whether it be the favor of Lichenclan's elite or a timely patrol. Indeed, Oystersnow always keeps an ear on Lichenclan's social circles and adjusts her day-to-day interactions around them accordingly. A listener rather than a talker in conversation, she spends most of her time listening and digesting the words of others before pitching in with insights of her own, seeking to cut incisively and deeply with each word she speaks. After all, she has two ears to listen with and she's learned over time that a molly is best reserved to garner the pity of others. And when the tides of favor swing against her, Oystersnow will wisely retreat to lick her wounds: a calculating mind already brewing with cunning comebacks and icy jabs.

Basic Desire: To gain a new family or companion worthy of commendation
Basic Fears: Going without the recognition and love wanted in her youth
Driving Force: Oystersnow is driven by her intuition and observation. She takes great pains to analyze every aspect of someone's character; habits, weaknesses, and strengths. She consciously memorizes past patterns and uses them to make inferences for the future.

Oysterkit's perception of the world around her was skewed from the beginning. The soft-hearted queen was not anticipating another litter when she became pregnant, and moreover, she was not expecting a daughter. Even at a young age, Oysterkit became aware of a deep-seated disappointment in her mother. Alternatively sheltered and resented, the kitten's hopes of a loving and nurturing family were dashed. Any positive interaction between mother and daughter felt contrived, meant more for the sake of keeping up appearances in the eyes of the other queens. Her father, Eaglestrike, is similarly coarse and offers little to his daughter except to stay in line with her mother and siblings.

In the absence of her mother's love and her father's attention, Oysterkit instead fell in with her older brothers who were the recipients of ample praise and laud by virtue of their parents rank and their own means. She stole scraps of their time when she could, gentle pleads and rounded eyes winning them over. They gave her scraps of information about the outside, about life as a warrior, and most importantly, about the elite of Lichenclan. Oysterkit never stayed long with the other apprentices as they engaged in rough-tumble mock-fights and spoke in clipped voices about their mentors.

Envious of the busy and "informed" life her brothers led as apprentices, she began to use the same silver tone with her mother and the other queens. Lessons of ladyhood and grace became opportunities to practice her charm, playing cards of obedience and docility that painted the image of an understanding and sophisticated daughter. She carried bulging wads of moss beneath her jowls as she practiced holding her chin lofted and her back straight. Navigating the nursery served as its own challenge; stepping between the rambunctious kittens was nowhere as stressful as keeping up a demure smile in the suffocating presence of her elders.

Doing just over the bare minimum to keep her mother satisfied allowed her to sneak away when she could. After all, a docile queen already resigned to her daughter's future as a housewife would surely focus her attention elsewhere.

While the other queens preened and offered their simpering advice in musical, lilting tones, Oysterkit reveled in the newfound control she felt. She enjoyed how the clever use of pretense and affections was enough to ensare the senses and weave a narrative in her favor. She never let on to the queens what she did with her free time; certain things were better left unsaid in the presence of the most conservative after all.

At six moons old, Minnowstar wisely apprenticed her to the loyalist Ashenblaze, a warrior known not for the brutality of his claws in battle, but his strategic decisions and sharp mind. On the first day of her training, However, she was discouraged to find him as reserved and distant as her father. After all, the older tom believed there was no point in getting close to a she-cat that was destined for the nursery. She would find no sympathy from him, yet it was only by appealing to his ego and cunning wit did she find a grudging respect within him, small as an ember.

As an apprentice, the more Oysterpaw learned about Minnowstar's unhinged congregations and the whispered sermons of Lichenclan's devout, the more disturbed she became. Under Ashenblaze's tutelage, Oysterpaw held audience with many of Lichenclan's most influential, from tittering queens to stoic and humorless warriors. Her mentor taught her to identify key snippets of political jargon that could seperate a believer from their imposter counterparts, and she turned those lines into phrases, paragraphs, prayers.

Cynicism grew within the she-cat's gut as she came to recognize Starclan not as some over-arching mythical force, but merely a societal construct. It was a stark contrast from the rose-petal tales and glorified legends she'd heard in the nursery. The more Oysterpaw saw her mentor (albeit reluctantly) and the other warriors use Starclan's will to justify their actions, the less she believed in her divine ancestors. The cats of Lichenclan may boast pale, snowy pelts and ostentiatoius airs, but their hearts were dark as the catacombs. Feeling disillusioned by her revelations, Oysterpaw spent many days every moon venting every dissatisfaction in the isolation of the Mooncave. Beneath the veil of piety, however, resentment and scorn poisoned her.

Why had Starclan refused to grant her greatest wish when she sought so hard to please them?

Oysterpaw recieved her warrior name from Minnowstar at 12 moons old; Oystersnow for her icy and analytical nature. At the mooncave, she confessed the sin of dissatisfaction and greed, although she never let on that her covetousness stemmed not from physical needs but emotional ones.

"Is it not a warrior's duty to seek riches and power for their clan? Lands that run abundant with prey, the expansion of Starclan's will, the culling of sinful heathens. May my dissatisfaction rid me of complacency and doubt, and drive me further towards our goals. Let Starclan pardon my sin for all I sacrifice is in Their name."

Warriorhood was a tumultous time, wrestling with news of her eventual engagement and the cold behavior of her kin. Eaglestrike barely spared her a glance except to call her for patrol, and her brothers seemed dismissive and curt at best. This form of isolation discouraged her from socializing with the other Lichenclan warriors in the den. Over time, however, the she-cat found a rare companion in Driftfeather. She'd witnessed her fair share of fights between the tom and his sister, Flurrystorm, animosity thickening the air with the promise of conflict. Despite the disconnect between the she-cat and her denmates, she couldn't help sympathizing with the lynx point tom. Hesitant interactions and stiltled greetings thawed the ice between them until the pair became nearly inseperable. Unfortunately, happiness left her life as quiclky as it had entered it; the lynx point warrior cut off their relationship with a hesitant (and in her opinion, half-assed) apology.

Driftfeather simply wasn't ready.

Newly embittered, Oystersnow nursed her broken heart by keeping to herself and plotting various ways to suceed in the eyes of Minnowstar's loyalists. Her efforts caught the eye of her siblings; but while she forms a tentative alliance with her oldest brother, Coldsong, she fails to garner the approval of the middle child Hareshine. The she-cat grows bitter towards her brother when the tom states that she is going against their parents wishes by not only becoming a warrior, but also dabbling in politics.

"You have no right poking your nose in to affairs that are too big for you to handle. It's best to stay with what you're good at instead of indulging in silly dreams of grandeur." Hareshine huffed dismissively, "After all, that is the behavior of a kit and not a queen."

"Am I a kit, as you say, for staying informed of the ways of our Clan? Who's in charge? She snapped back, "I will not apologize for taking steps towards my own destiny, my own future! This clan needs warriors more than queens."

"And you trust them—?" He demanded, eyes incredulous. "Have you seen the loyalists? How cruel they are?"

"I don't approve of their methods, but I can tolerate their vision. She hissed urgently, "Face it, there's no benefit to passivity. What we have now, we must take — or risk the spoils of our efforts being stolen away by another. It's the only way."

She sighed heavily, "I'm only trying to help you, Hareshine. You're a wayward soul. And you'll run into trouble one day. But that day is not this day."

Several moons later, Oystersnow's prediction bore bitter fruit. Sent to the Redwoodclan border on Minnowstar's orders, Oystersnow is seperated from her siblings during the fight. After the disastrous ambush, she is greeted by the corpse of Coldsong; his snowy flank ripped to ribbons and a gaping wound at his throat. The warriors on his patrol confirmed that he had, at the very least died quickly, even if his wounds clearly suggested otherwise.

In the wake of the battle, Lichenclan sank into turmoil. Convinced there were traitors in her clan, Minnowstar called a confession in the Mooncave, forcing each warrior to admit to their sins. With her wounds still fresh from her brother's death, Oystersnow confesses the sin of naiveté. All she wanted was to be loved, cared for, nurtured with love-- and yet Starclan denied every single one of her wishes. No longer would she commit to such foolish and idealistic pursuits.


In the wake of the confessions, Oystersnow began to sink into an depression, still grieving Coldshine and enraged by Hareshine's perceived betrayal. Whenever clanmates would listen to her, she fed them insidious lies about her brother, her words painting images of a craven tom who suffered from temptation. Ashenblaze's whispers filled her ears, instructing her on who to socialize with, the unfortunate and the prodigious. It turned her brother into a social outcast by the end of the moon, and the siblings bitterly part ways, now estranged.

Despite having avenged Coldshine's death, Oystersnow felt empty and disconnected, seeking out new duties as a way of coping. The clan descends into turmoil, tearing her responsibilities between watching over her mentor Ashenblaze, helping out in the nursery, and managing her own emotional health. It was during this time that she lost touch with her faith in her leader and fought alongside the rebellion when the final battle came. Unfortunately, with her mentor badly hurt during the final battle, the end of Minnowstar's line became not a time of joy but of mourning and recollection.

When did she start feeling so empty?