THYMECLOUD

REDWOODCLAN

long-haired blue tabby she-cat

Thymecloud isn’t the lastborn of her litter, but she is the runt. When she was a kit, it took extra care and attention to make sure she flourished as well as the rest. Dwarfish at first, there was a time her family worried about her health — but after her initial growth spurt you can hardly spot the difference. She isn’t as burly as most RedwoodClan warriors, but among her siblings she is at least average.

If not for the length of her fur, Thymecloud would look almost like a mirror of her mother, Pebblefoot. Muted gray stripes run throughout her fur like waves, darker and more prominent on her face and around her legs. Unlike either parent, she boasts the dense, long fur of a RedwoodClan warrior. Thick tufts of fur grow around her neck and chest, creating a proud and regal look that matches her confident stature and full-throated voice.

All talk of imposing goes out the window the first time you watch her stumble over her paws.

Thymecloud has a sparkle in her muted green eyes and a spring in her clumsy gait that implies her naivety and youth. Her square face belies her external warmth (but hints at a chillier internal world) — when she greets someone new, she emphasizes her inviting personality with a jolly smile and a big strong hello!

Once a shy kitten more inclined to follow rather than lead, Thymecloud has blossomed into an oddball socialite with her head in the clouds. Naïve, Thymecloud is too friendly with all she sees — friends, Clanmates, and strangers alike. She’s got a knack for small talk and a way of hooking her paws around you; she’s known for roping others into silly pranks and wild hijinks. Thymecloud has a certain joie de vivre — a passion for life itself — and has a zany bubbly charm that tends to catch others off guard.

There is nothing mysterious about her. She’s got a guffaw of a laugh, so loud and obnoxious she could trademark it — if you see a flock of birds take flight, it’s safe to assume Thymecloud’s been making jokes within a mile away. She uses this humor to mask her insecurities; if she messes up or makes a mistake, she’ll ham it up and look back to make sure everyone’s watching.

Thymecloud suffers from a lack of problem solving skills. Like her parents, she plays the role of a therapist all too well. But unlike her parents, she expects an emotional tit-for-tat. Sure, she’ll listen to your problems and offer up creative solutions — but when not afforded the same care or attention she gets upset and resentful. She expects to be asked after, and longs for incredibly deep interpersonal relationships without truly working towards them.

Don’t worry — deeply pacifistic in nature, she’d never say it to your face. Thymecloud tends to bottle up her negative emotions and hides them with a goofy mask. She often feels like she’s being taken advantage of and neglected emotionally. You’ll think you’re on okay terms with her one day, and the next she’ll be icing you out of her life, more distant and polite with you than she’s ever been with a stranger.

Finchstar and Pebblefoot gave birth to a litter of four on the edge of Green-leaf — Parsleykit, Thymekit, Violetkit, and Acornkit. Finchstar was strict to his litter, but Thymekit’s view of her parents was warm. In her early childhood, RedwoodClan had been willing to share resources with others in need. She’d taken these lessons to heart; to her, Finchstar was larger than life. He was the type of model leader you’d hear of in nursery tales: kind, warm, and loyal. She was exceedingly proud of her family and never afraid to say so.

Thymekit greatly admired Pebblefoot — almost her mini-me, she always wanted to be around her and wanted to be just like her. Unlike Pebblefoot or Violetkit, though, she didn’t have a musical bone in her body. She couldn’t quite keep time and quickly became frustrated; her early childhood temper tantrums most often stemmed from this inability to keep up. Exasperated by her own inability and unwilling to embarrass herself further, she coped by hamming it up. After hitting a wrong note, she’d continue singing poorly on purpose, using humor to cover up her frustration.

A step behind her siblings developmentally and exasperated by her brothers, Thymekit relied heavily on Violetkit those first few moons. She would one day grow out of being a follower and march to the beat of her own drum — but in those early days she was a follower indeed. She enthusiastically followed Violetkit’s lead, often playing the ‘yes man’ and encouraging her sister to do a wide variety of really stupid things. This, of course, led them into all sorts of trouble, but they created a bond that wouldn’t easily fray with time.

Her childhood was the textbook definition of idyllic, bookended on either side by an unusual stretch of peace. All she knew was the warmth, love, and generosity of her family — which was why, at six moons, she was deeply intimidated by Ruefeather and frightened to be named his apprentice. Ruefeather’s daughter was Dapplepaw, who’d been in the nursery at the same time as her, but for all the love he gave his daughter he kept a chilly distance with the world at large.

Unwilling to admit the faults she found with him, Thymepaw was too busy bottling up her discomfort to learn much in those first few moons. Instead she focused on socializing and gift-giving, always watching Ruefeather out of the corner of her eye. She was polite and attentive with him, but failed to excel in any meaningful way. She was an easy target in group training and an especially easy pick for sparring partners who wanted easy wins.

This would change a few moons into her training. A territory dispute broke out between her Clan and ThistleClan — and in a move that shook Thymepaw’s worldview apart, Finchstar vowed to take their territory back. Deeply idealistic, Thymepaw couldn’t understand why Finchstar thought it was fine to deliver retribution on a Clan who only wanted to feed their own. She’d never say it to his face, but after that meeting she couldn’t help but look at her father differently.

In the same meeting, Ruefeather endeared himself to her by saying what she was thinking — all cats wanted was food, shelter, and a warm nest at night.

It was like a light turned on in Thymepaw’s mind. She never spoke to Ruefeather about the whys or hows, but he could probably guess. She was suddenly invested in her training and their relationship, so long as she could hear more about his thoughts. Knowing there were other cats who shared her worldview warmed her to the core. For the rest of her training, it wasn’t rare to see the two together, Thymepaw’s tail high in the air while she grilled Ruefeather on deep philosophical questions she’d never thought to ask.

At the same time, it was like she'd slammed a window shut right in front of Finchstar's whiskers. Once open and eager to please, she'd suddenly shifted to polite and distant. One could blame it on being a moody teen, and Thymepaw certainly wasn't free of those accusations. But the core of her sudden switch in attitude wasn't hormonal at all — it stemmed from a deep feeling of betrayal towards someone she'd come to trust. 

After moons of skating by at the edge of okay, her sudden interest in impressing Ruefeather (and, by proxy, furthering her training) showed how behind she really was. It was almost impossible to break bad habits that she’d started to form, but she tried her best. It wasn’t easy, but she eventually passed and became a warrior at the age of fourteen moons.

Already, she’s started to regress back into those bad habits.