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Username;; Sunnyside
Cat Name;; Deadshadow
Gender;; tom
Age;; 20 moons
Clan;; Cliffclan Rank;; warrior
Eye Colour;; A
deep
amber on the
left, and a
bright
blue on the right
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║ ╚═════════╝ Scars;; Two small scars and one medium; a small one on the inside of the right foreleg, a nick in his left ear, and medium sized scar on his back.
Tʜᴇ Sᴄᴀʀs;; Deadshadow was born into a clan of ruthless, coldhearted cats; Stormclan. At his birth, his mother immediately recognized something was different about this kit, something unnatural. Terrified about what this dark omen could mean for the clan, the queen immediately disowned him, but not before dubbing him
Deadkit. The queen was on her way to abandon the kit to die, when one of the higher ups in the clan, Darkivy, intercepted her. Upon seeing the kit, Darkivy was immediately intrigued. She convinced the queen to hand over the unwanted kit, and with permission of the leader, raised the kit herself in isolation from the rest of the clan.
Deadkit's training started much earlier than most kits', even by this clan's standards. He was to be a very special warrior, and as such, his brainwashing, er, training, needed to start as soon as possible. At 2 moons old, Darkivy began filling his mind with promises of being the hero of a clan who didn't even know he existed, of having everything he could possibly want. The respect of his clanmates, who all looked at him as if he were a monster, the love of a mother who had abandoned him. That he would be the strongest cat the world had ever known; he could have it all. As long as he listened to her.
She taught him how to lie, how to manipulate and gain the trust of others. But above all else, she taught him to be loyal to her alone. Every failed lie was met with a strike across the face- he learned fast, especially after he lost
a chunk of his ear to her claws.
At 4 moons, he began his physical training. He was taught how to hunt, and protect himself like any other apprentice as Darkivy kept up his mental training. By the time he was 9 moons old, Darkivy upped the ante, and started teaching him very specialized moves- how to camouflage with the surroundings, hiding imperceptibly in the shadows, and kill moves that would chill most normal cats to the bone. But Deadpaw was no normal cat. In the last two moons of his training, Darkivy made sure he perfected his physical lies, that is how to convincingly fight poorly so outsiders wouldn't suspect his specialized training.
Finally, at 15 moons old, his training was technically complete, and he was given the name Deadshadow. He didn't get a formal ceremony like a normal clan cat; just a meeting with the high ranks of Stormclan. Something about protecting his mission... the clan couldn't know about him until after he succeeded. Darkivy instructed him to hold out his right foreleg. Once he did so, she carved a
small crescent deep into the inside of his leg, permanently marking him as a special warrior of Stormclan.
Moons passed as he waited for the mission he'd been promised; the one that, once it was complete, would allow him to finally rejoin Stormclan and be accepted. The one that would make him a hero. Until then, he was sequestered in a den, by himself, on the edge of Stormclan territory. It was a lonely existence, the only thing he looked forward to were Darkivy's daily visits to make sure his training was still sharp.
Then, finally, one day it happened; Darkivy showed up at his den, and told him to follow her. They traveled a whole day's journey, deep into unknown territory. As they travelled, Darkivy filled him in on his mission. The target was a new clan called Cliffclan; they'd heard tale of the clan from a passing rogue whom they'd intercepted crossing Stormclan territory. Deadshadow was to infiltrate their ranks, and find out all that he could about this new clan, and report his findings back to Darkivy. If all went to plan, Stormclan would take over Cliffclan using their inside cat. This is what he'd been training his entire life for.
At sundown that night, Darkivy informed him that this is where she would leave him; Cliffclan was about half a day's journey south. They would meet again at this spot in 3 moons. There was one final thing to take care of before she left.... That's when she leapt at him, claws extended. He froze, as he was trained to
never attack a high rank of Stormclan, except in training sessions. Darkivy sunk her claws into his pelt, leaving him covered in scratches, one particularly
deep one on his back. After a few minutes, Darkivy sat back and admired her handiwork. Deadshadow had his teeth grit in pain, though he didn't dare let out any whimpers as blood trickled down his pelt.
"Now go bring glory to your clan."Tʜᴇ Mɪssɪᴏɴ;;Deadshadow stumbled in the direction Darkivy had sent him, hoping he found Cliffclan quickly enough. And sure enough, just as Darkivy said, about half a day later, he crossed the scent markers into the territory he only had to assume belonged to Cliffclan. He made his way as deep into the territory as he could before he finally collapsed from the blood loss and pain.
It wasn't long after that, that a calico she-cat appeared, moving warily towards him before calling out in panic and running towards him; "Rowanflame! Come quickly! There's someone hurt over here!" Sniffing him frantically, she spoke to him "It's alright, we've got you now. You're safe with Cliffclan." Success.
He was brought back to their camp, where a cat named Mothwatcher treated his wounds. The calico, he later learned was named Buzzardcry, came to visit him regularly. She was peculiar, and insisted that he keep a bird skull by his nest- something about them warding off death? He wasn't sure. He started to get close to Buzzardcry over the weeks he spent healing, learning as much as he could about Cliffclan. When asked about his story, Deadshadow lied through his teeth and spun her a sad tale on how he'd been kicked out of every place he'd tried to call home because he was a 'monster'. Of course, she had no reason not to believe him.
Over the next few moons, Deadshadow wove himself into the fabric of Cliffclan life. He joined patrols, hunted for others, and even helped fight back a fox that got a little too close to camp for the clan's liking. Here he was welcomed and respected, despite how he looked. Daily, he had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't his real home, that these weren't his clanmates. He couldn't forget his mission; his training. But as time wore on, it became increasingly difficult, especially as he and Buzzardcry grew closer... As the three moon mark approaches, Deadshadow has to decide where his loyalties really lie. Will he be a spy, or just continue blissfully living in his lies?
[1200/1200 words]
