ｊｕｓｔ ｔｈｅ ｂｅｇｉｎｎｉｎｇ．．． limited spaces . open . post away

[uncanny valley]

N A M E "Well, I'm sure not Nightpaw!"
This she-cat's name is Nightheart.

A G E "I'm not an elder yet, haha! I'm
barely a warrior, in fact." She is 18
moons, a new warrior.


R A N K "I wonder. My name's a warrior
name, I'm eighteen moons, and I've
already told you I'm a new warrior.
That must mean I'm... a kittypet.
I'm a warrior, mouse-brain!"


R A N K wanted "Being leader'd
be pretty cool, huh? But every cat
says that, so let's be original and
say that when I'm older, I want to
be an apprentice." Nightheart is
happy being a warrior for now,
since she's so young, though she
is as ambitious as the next cat.

A P P E A R A N C E "Black."
Nightheart has sleek black fur,
much shorter than your average
cat from the mountains. Her eyes
are icy blue, making her seem a
lot less friendly than she actually
is. Nightheart's fur is very soft,
and she is quite slim and pretty,
even if she doesn't think so.

L O V E "Well, you won't see
me going all goo-goo eyed over a
handsome tom. I look for a clever
one, intelligent and curious and
open-minded. And I suppose it
doesn't hurt if... they're... easy
on the eyes, too...."
Nightheart has a big crush on
Swiftspark, and tries not to
make it too obvious so as not
to lose face.

F A M I L Y "Who needs them?
I'll come right out and admit everything
about my useless family. Kittypet lumps.
They just sat around all day waiting for
things to happen."
Nightheart's family were all kittypets,
something she has no trouble dwelling
on. Her mother's name was Rosie and
her father's was, boringly, Tom. She
also had some littermates, Button and
Cloudy.

P E R S O N A L I T Y Nightheart is an outgoing, reasonably ambitious, and totally frank she-cat. She tells it like she sees it; don't ask her a question unless you're prepared for an insensitive answer. Nightheart is bold, and very outspoken; this garners her both lots of friends and lots of enemies. She's funny, but in a more biting, sarcastic sort of fashion; her monologues are peppered with witticisms, and her retorts are sharp and quick. She's good at thinking on the spot, and is very aware of the consequences of every action; she's not the type to plunge headfirst into danger. She's the type who will assess it first, decide that it's dangerous, and then plunge in - with a plan. Nightheart isn't fearless, even if she is bold. She's very insecure about herself at times, and sometimes develops something of an inferiority complex: that is, she thinks the other warriors are all better at something than she is. However, when these times arise, she deals with them in her own way: through sharp remarks and confident-seeming speeches to friends... and enemies. She's not the type of cat one can be neutral about; either she's your friend, or you hate her guts.
While most hard, sardonic she-cats seem to have a soft core deep within, Nightheart retains her sarcastic, dry humor to the depths of her personality. She likes kits as much as the next cat, of course, but isn't crazy over them. She isn't the sort of kindhearted, warm and loving cat you should spill your innermost secrets to; for this reason, while she has many friends, she has none that are very close.
Nightheart is a very intelligent she-cat; this is a quality she finds important in others. She puts intelligence before almost anything, before warrior skills, strength, bravery, kindness... anything except, perhaps, humor (though, the way she sees it, the two go hand in hand). Nightheart's not a very strong warrior; she would sooner outwit an enemy than fight with claws, but once she does, she's not bad at it, using speed to her advantage. Nightheart doesn't think of herself as very attractive, even though she is one of the prettiest cats in the Clan; she would sooner someone look at her mind rather than her looks.


H I S T O R Y"Fft. History. The past is the past, but whatever, if you really want to know, I'll explain; I'm not the kind of cat who avoids talking about stuff. My family were all kittypets. I didn't want to be a kittypet. Bad stuff happened, then the Twolegs left, and I jumped out of the tree before it fell, so to speak."
The sleek, black she-kit's paws darted out to strike the swiftly falling flakes of snow; her paw, as always, hit the cold glass that the Twolegs had stupidly placed over one of the entrances to their nest; of course, her family all called it the "house," but one cat in Twolegplace, who was the mate of a nearby kittypet, had told Night stories of the Clan of cats who lived in the cold of the mountains, and Night had picked up every word of their terminology. Nest. It sounded cozier than "house," somehow, and Night liked it.
The trumping of feet told her that one of the Twolegs was coming; the volume of the steps told her that it was one of the bigger ones, which didn't seem to like her. Night darted away from the window and crouched beneath a fake plant, her ears pricked.
"Night, come out of there!" That was her mother, Rosie, a dark ginger she-cat with Night's ice-blue eyes; the resemblance stopped there. Rosie was gentler than Night, and seemed to like the "housefolk," which Night had taken to calling Twolegs.
Night's father, Tom, padded in from the next room. He was a large tom, dark gray with yellow eyes and a much coarser pelt than Night and Rosie. He reached his head up as one of the Twolegs walked by to place their hand on it; Night shivered. How they could be so comfortable around Twolegs was a mystery to her.
Night's littermates bounced in suddenly, tumbling over one another the way three-moon old kits typically did. "Button! Cloudy! Wanna play hunt with me?" Night called out, jumping out from behind the plant and over to her littermates. Cloudy was a gray tabby with yellow eyes; Button was a dark brown tabby, and his eyes were the same yellow colour. They both looked up at her now with two identical pairs that were both the same colour and both confused. "Why would we play hunt?" Button mewed. "The housefolk always give us food. Besides, it's boring."
"It wouldn't be boring outside," Night insisted; she glanced at her parents pleadingly. "Can we go? Please, please, please?"
Of course, Rosie shook her head. "Of course not!" She shuddered a little, as if the thought were repulsive to her. "It's far too cold out there. You'll freeze."
"Would not," Night muttered, but she knew better than to argue; she'd had this conversation many times before. Next to her, Cloudy jumped wildly at her, as if he were planning on squashing her with his belly; she darted nimbly to the side, then stretched her front legs out and tripped up her littermate. He stumbled and squeaked pitifully.
"Night doesn't play like a normal cat! She's tricksy!" he wailed.
"Am not!" Night protested. "I just use smart ways instead of belly flops!"
Button ran over to Cloudy and glared at Night. "Why can't you be a normal cat?" he hissed; Night, rather than crouching down, bushed up her fur and hissed right back, a lot louder than her annoying brother had. Suddenly, a Twoleg's paw came swiping down from nowhere, and Night's hiss tapered off into a squeak as she darted away....

"What do you mean, leaving?"
Three moons had passed, and Night and her brothers were growing up. But while Cloudy and Button seemed less and less playful each day, Night only got more and more energetic, less likely to lie beside the fire with her family.
"I mean, the housefolk are packing things up," Tom explained in his gravely voice. "Look." He gestured out the window with his tail.
An enormous monster stood in the driveway; its paws were easily the size of three of her father, and its belly was bigger than anything Night had ever seen, except for the Twoleg nests.
"Are they leaving us here?" Night wondered, tipping her head to the side; at that, Cloudy squeaked, horrified.
"I don't want to stay here, Father!" he wailed, and Button nodded vigorously. "I want to go with the housefolk!"
"Don't worry," Rosie purred, coming up behind them. "They're taking us with them; you'll see."
Night stepped away from the glass, staring at Rosie and Tom. "No way," she spat. "I'm not leaving here and being some little kittypet forever?"
"What's a kittypet?" Button mewed, flopping onto his belly in a patch of sunshine.
Night arched her back and leaped to the floor. "I'm going to be a warrior, like that strange cat who comes to visit," Night proclaimed. "I'm going to be the best warrior ever!" She heard the sound of the door opening, the footsteps of the Twolegs, and darted between their feet, panicked that she was going to lose her one chance to become a warrior... a warrior of MintClan!

"Are you cold?" Briarfern fretted, looking back at the young kit following her through the forest.
Night was puffing; she had never walked this far. "No," she mewed. It wasn't a particularly cold day, and Night was, if anything, warm beneath her black pelt, which was touched by the sun.
"You're going to be a good warrior," Briarfern told the kit, touching her shoulder with her nose. "I'm sure my Clan will welcome you."

"Nightpaw! Nightpaw!" Nightpaw lifted her head high as the Clan chanted her new name; with her old name, simple Night, she was casting off her old life, as well: a life of fireside calm, warmth and comfort, constant food. She was exchanging it for life in the bitter cold, with constant danger and excitement, not knowing if she was going to eat every day or even survive to the next moon.
And for once, she felt alive.

N A M E "Pinepaw, of course! It's the name
you yell when I get into trouble, heh."
Pinepaw, when he is a warrior, hopes
to be known as Pineshadow, or cool
things along those lines.

A G E "Oh, that's an easy one! Okay, I'm
an age between one and one thousand
moons. Guess! Go on, you'll get it."
Pinepaw is eight moons.


R A N K "Boy, do you ask tough questions!
Well, I'm not an elder, and I'm not a kit.
Look, I already told you my name was
Pinepaw, didn't I? Work it out!"


R A N K wanted "Well, I sort of
want to be a Pinepaw when I'm older."
Pinepaw claims that he doesn't care,
but he does secretly want to be deputy.

A P P E A R A N C E "How I look? Well,
I look... like... a cat. A really, really
attractive cat." Pinepaw is a sleek
black and white cat with deep green
eyes. His paws are white, like he's
stepped into a drift of snow and it
clung to his pelt. Pinepaw is leaner
than most, and his pelt is a bit thin
for the cold here; however, it is
fluffier than it looks. Pinepaw is
quite handsome.

L O V E "I'd say I'm loveable! But I
guess it's not my opinion that counts,
huh?" Pinepaw has a small crush on
Meadowpaw.

F A M I L Y "At one point, I had
some." His mother, Briarfern; his
father, an unknown kittypet; and
his littermates, Shiverkit, Snowkit,
and Graypaw. All of his littermates
are dead, and his mother and father's
locations are unknown.

P E R S O N A L I T Y Pinepaw is a very outgoing cat, popular among the other apprentices. When there's mischief abound, he'll be one of the first cat's you'll look at. Pinepaw loves to be the center of attention, and handles the spotlight well; he's very likeable, with his fun-loving nature and frequent witticisms. His humour is very sharp-tongued, and this can either make him come across as funny or rude. Sarcasm is Pinepaw's favourite weapon, but he doesn't use it all the time; wouldn't want to wear it out, right? He manages to keep humour fresh, which is one of the traits that makes him so amusing, though Pinepaw can find humour in nearly everything, even things that aren't funny.
On the flip side, Pinepaw is very highly strung for such a humorous cat. Don't expect him to be a laid back sort of apprentice; he is always going, and rarely is able to pay attention in training sessions, making him a difficult cat to train. Goofing off is his specialty, and causing mild amounts of trouble is the icing on the cake; some might say that makes him immature, and he would be inclined to agree. Pinepaw, when he's angry, doesn't just yell; he turns his humor into a tool that he can use against the offender. Pinepaw can be too proud; sometimes, he can even come across as slightly arrogant. This arrogance is, perhaps, what makes him able to stand up in front of the entire Clan and say something funny. Pinepaw has no stage fright, that's for sure. He's infinitely confident in front of a group, and has large amounts of charisma... heck, a cat like him needs it. He can certainly use charm when he gets into trouble.
Pinepaw is an optimist. He can only look on the bright side, and doesn't see bad things in a situation until it has actually become bad, in which case he can only see the way out. He is poised, confident, and has a strong way of speaking that makes one really listen to what he's saying, regardless of whether it's useful or not. Pinepaw also has a loving side; deep down, he genuinely cares about others, and while you'll never see him being "gentle," per se, he can be "kind"... and his best form of kindness is his humor. He finds
that making another laugh is the best way to cheer them up, and sees this as his gift to the Clan and his friends: humor, which can be used in many, many ways.


H I S T O R Y "There really isn't much to tell. I was born, I was an apprentice, I've lived in the Clan.
End of story." That is the abridged version of Pinepaw's story, the one he likes to tell whenever he's asked about the past, which isn't very often. However, Pinepaw's tale is more detailed than that, and only his great sense of humor has kept him from dwelling on his past; he's not the type to become lost in memories, only the type to cruise through life with a smile on his face. That doesn't make
the past un-happen, though.
Briarfern licked her kits, her rough tongue rasping over each one; she smiled and purred indulgently as a small black and white tom reached up his paw to dab at her nose and gave a small mew. "I'll name you Pinekit," she decided, looking up at the tree that towered above them, "for the tree that has sheltered me." Her gaze travelled along her kits, landing finally on a white she-cat. "And you will be Snowkit. For the snow that sheltered me, too." Her nest was made of snow now; it was fluffy, but cold, and she felt a twinge of worry for her kits; what would happen to them in the cold? Would she ever be able to take them back to the Clan, where they belonged? "You'll be Graykit," she meowed, nuzzling the scrap of gray fur. "And finally, Shiverkit." The last kit was trembling like a leaf in a breeze, and Briarfern once again felt a small panicked sensation. Briarfern had fallen in love with a kittypet; the shame tugged at her pelt, but she knew that this kittypet had had a warrior's spirit, and a fierce love for her, too. But when she had found out they were to have kits, that changed everything. The Clan, she figured, would never accept her kits. She had tried to go back to the kittypet's Twoleg nest, only to find the nest empty. Dark. As if her mate had never lived there. Choking on shaking sobs, Briarfern scraped her claws against the bark of the tree, hoping to find it hollow. Finally, her claws found purchase in the flaky wood, and she stripped away a small section of bark, scooping up her kits one by one and bundling them inside. But when she reached
Shiverkit, she noticed that he was no longer trembling; he was completely, perfectly still. Briarfern let out a shocked wail and crouched beside the tiny kit, wrapping her paws around him until the mewls of her surviving kits jolted her back to the tree, where she kept them warm with her own body, wrapping around them as tightly as she could. Despite this, Snowkit died in the night when she fell into the snowdrift, and by the morning, Briarfern could see that her remaining kits were breathing slowly; she had to do something. Wearily, she took Graykit in her mouth and carried him to the MintClan camp, setting him in front of the entrance; she then raced back as fast as her numb, frozen paws would carry her, hoping against hope that Pinekit was still alive. When she arrived, her littlest kit was trembling from the cold, huddled in a ball; an eagle's cry above Briarfern told her that predators already knew her kit was here. She ran him back to camp, too, stopping every once in a while to lick him vigorously. She reached the camp entrance in time to meet a patrol; the soft crunch of snow made her freeze where she was standing.
"Briarfern?" one of the warriors mewed, incredulous.
"Please take care of my kits," she replied hoarsely, going on to tell them the whole story, everything about her mate, the kittypet. "I know they will be accepted here, even if I won't."
"What are you doing?" the cat growled, as Briarfern turned into the trees.
"Going to find the one cat who still loves me," Briarfern rasped, her paws breaking into as swift a run as she could manage in the cold, leaving behind a chorus of hisses from the warriors who felt betrayed.

"Graypaw! Pinepaw! Graypaw! Pinepaw!" Pinepaw felt a glow of pride as the Clan chanted his new name; he and Graypaw had spent four long moons not knowing who their parents were, and then two more under the burden of the truth. Pinepaw hadn't been too bothered by it, but his brother had; Graypaw had always hoped that their parents were secretly great warriors, or something like that.
"We're apprentices!" Graypaw's eyes shone for the first time in several sunrises, and Pinepaw shoved him playfully, purring happily not just at their apprenticeship, but also at how happy his brother was.

"So where do you think we should hunt?" Graypaw's light gray fur blended in nicely against the snow; Pinepaw sighed, knowing that his mostly-black pelt stuck out like a shadow.
"Dunno," Pinepaw mewed, shrugging. "Let's split up, okay? You can go that way, and I'll go this way. We'll be done in no time! Meet back here."
Graypaw nodded, and sped off quickly; Pinepaw also trotted off. There was no time for games here; it was the two apprentices' first solo assignment. They had to bring back enough prey to feed the elders and queens. Pinepaw dropped into a crouch as he heard the soft sound of shifting snow; his paws were light on the fluffy white powder, and he sprang, claws outstretched, to sink them into a startled mouse.
Pinepaw looked up, feeling the warmth of satisfaction; he picked up the mouse and buried it in the snow to preserve it before scenting the air again, letting his ears swivel around, searching for noises that would give away the location of prey. Instead, he heard something much worse.
Graypaw's shriek pierced the air, and Pinepaw raced through the forest desperately, searching for his brother. "Graypaw!" he yowled, claws sending snow flying as he struggled to dig them into hard ground and push off faster. When Pinepaw finally reached Graypaw, an eagle's talons were already gripping his brother, carrying him away; his terrified shrieks had faded, leaving Pinepaw standing in the ringing silence, every sound muffled by snow so that when he wailed aloud in horror and shock the sound sank into the deep, white drifts that absorbed it so well....

ɪ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇ ɪғ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʟᴀᴜɢʜ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ sᴇɴsᴇ, ᴡᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏғ ʟɪғᴇ.

[free.]

{ Thank You }

[»fly away]

>> No problem! And accepted, sailboat123 }

[lacke]

I may end up changing their history later on. :> Also, this is a wip.

ＣＨＥＲＲＹＨＥＡＲＴ
ｔｈｅ ｃａｌｍ ｏｎｅ || ２５ ｍｏｏｎｓ || ｗａｒｒｉｏｒ || ｓｈｅ－ｃａｔ

basics
name; cherryheart
age; 25 moons
gender; she-cat
rank; warrior
outside
fur color; calico-and-white
eye color; a beautiful turquoise color
scars; she has three claw marks on her cheek
deformations; none
inside
personality; calm, quiet, reserved
likes; hunting, climbing, smiling
dislikes; lightning, loud noises.
fears; drowning
someone special?
crush; none
mate; maybe in the future
kits; maybe in the future

description is a wip.











Nobody really knows where Cherryheart got her calm trait. It seemed to appear out of nowhere. As an apprentice, she was rather hyper and outgoing, but as she aged and matured, she seemed to mellow out and go quiet. However, she isn't ALWAYS quiet, she just doesn't really talk unless someone talks to her, or she wants to talk to somebody. Or if she has to talk. Then its different. With her being quiet, it makes her appear shy and unfriendly at times, but when you get to know her, you will see that she is the complete opposite. This is where the 'reserved' factor also takes place. With her being reserved, she never really tells anyone how shes feeling, and she can often mask her emotions behind her smiles. She began to be reserved when her father had died from a fox.

ＳＮＡＫＥＴＡＩＬ
ｔｈｅ ｌａｚｙ ｏｎｅ || １６ ｍｏｏｎｓ || ｗａｒｒｉｏｒ || ｔｏｍ

basics
name; snaketail
age; 16 moons
gender; tom
rank; warrior
outside
fur color; brown tabby
eye color; pale green
scars; none
deformations; none
inside
personality; outgoing, lazy, reserved.
likes; water, thunder, hunting.
dislikes; awkward silences.
fears; falling from high heights
someone special?
crush; none
mate; none
kits; none

wip.

[»fly away]

>> Accepted. Adding to the front. }

[littleotter710]

❀ ａｃｏｒｎｗｈｉｓｋｅｒ
ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴜɢʜ



[size=85]. name;

acornwhisker

. age;

twenty moons

. gender;

tom

. kin;

[strike]barkclaw > brother
badgertail > father
moonflight > mother

. mate / kits;

none

[/strike]

[the vamps.]

|mooseleaps eyes are a chestnut hazel.|

[lichenfeather]

Username;; Lichenfeather

Name;; They call me Stonesong. The first part of my name, 'stone' as for the colour of my pelt. The suffix, 'song' is for my strangely lilting mew.
Age;; I, like my sister am 25 moons old.
Gender;; I am a tom.
Rank;; I am a warrior.

Relationships;; My father was the brave warrior Bluetail and my mother, the enduring Willowshine. I miss them both very much. My sister is Moonshine, and is one of my best friends. I currently have no interest in finding myself a mate.
Personality;; Some may call me gruff and cold-hearted, but I am actually a big softie, just a little cautious. I believe every cat should follow their heart, and not necessarily be bound to the Clan even if they were born of it. I dislike arguments and spats, and do my best to keep out of them. Despite my aversion to violence and more bestial nature, I will fight if I need to. I am civilized and polite, being civil to every cat, no matter my personal feelings. I like to have close friends and experience new things. All in all, I'd say I'm a pretty cool cat.
Eyes;; My eyes are a deeper blue than those of Moonshine's. Mine are like a midnight storm, when the lightning flashes against the clouds, illuminating the sky.
Pelt;; My pelt is the deep, dark grey of the stones that surround us. It is thicker than Moonshine's, but thinner than many cats. It does its job and keep me warm, however.
Build;; I am slightly smaller than most cats, but stocky and strong. I have a large chest and large paws. My haunches are powerful, making leaping easy. My shorter legs, however, make me race to keep up with my Clanmates.

{pictures are only approximations. they belong to their rightful owners.}

[darĸнowl]

{{ Hi there husky! I read through everything and I really like it so could you reserve a female warrior's spot for me, if that's ok? Her name's Echowave. Actually just noticed another cat with the same prefix so I'll change that. Ignore that... ahahaha
Thanks! I'll post the form tonight, maybe. I'm just seeing a friend soon so I don't have time yet. Never mind that, she cancelled on me so I can post it sooner :3 }}

[darĸнowl]

{ mintclan } • { twenty-three moons } • { warrior }

ᴺᴬᴹᴱ → "My name is Palewave. Why do you ask?" The whole of this she-cat screams 'mystery'. She looked nothing like her parents at birth. She earned the prefix pale from her mother, because of her shockingly light calico pelt unlike any other. She received wave at her naming ceremony because her bright, enticing blue eyes changed colours and moods as easily as the ocean itself. They were sharp and powerful; the only powerful detail about her.
ᴳᴱᴺᴰᴱᴿ → "...Is it really that hard to figure it out?" She-cat. Plain and simple.
ᴬᴳᴱ → "I'm twenty-seven moons. Why do you need to know all of this?"
ᴿᴬᴺᴷ → "I'm a warrior of Mintclan."

ᴾᴱᴿˁᴼᴺᴬᴸᴵᵀʸ → Damaged. Mysterious. Extremely Clever. Compassionate. Quiet. Troubled Insomniac.
Palewave tends to be on the quiet side, mainly because she is a little shy. She strays away from other cats, yet she knows that she belongs in the Clan. She will one moment be basking in the sun outside in the camp, other times hiding the warriors den. She always does as asked, but will usually ask the queens if they need anything: moss, fresh-kill, cotton, anything; she will do it. Palewave likes to watch the kits play and always has ever since she can remember. She's always dreamed of wanting a family of her own - though the moment she was told she was nothing special by her mentor, her dreams were crushed immediately. She grew up lonely, watching from the sidelines. Her family died when she was very young and so resulted in her inability to socialize properly - she grew up damaged and afraid of nearly everything.

Lately, she seems to want to help out more but also seems to space out frequently when she feels alone or depressed - which is increasing by the day. She had always been a strong she-cat and will one day pass that onto an apprentice of some sort; never giving up in anything, though inside her spirit is broken and forgotten like an ancient stone by the sea as waves crash down on it repeatedly mercilessly, slowly wearing it away each year. She's got a loving soul, never wishing any pain or suffering upon anyone that would need comfort. Palewave just needs someone to give her the chance to show that side of her.
Most of her life, she's been suffering with a case of insomnia. It doesn't matter how tired she may feel, sleep won't come easy for Palewave. If it does, it's with nightmares. It started around the same time the teasing began when she was still barely an apprentice. She couldn't make friends and they called her names, always making her feel confused and different from the clan though she is pure Mintclan blood. She still has a sort of exhausted looking face from her countless sleepless nights. Her mind on the other hand, brilliant, is always running. Always thinking. Never lets her sleep or rests. Always ticking. One of the things most cats don't know about her is her massive intellect and sharp mind. But she never speaks so no one would ever hear her. She was never treated properly and therefore would react to a compliment or any kindness quite badly. She would be in shock if anyone were to befriend her since she has none in particular. She got used to being alone and never complains about it but will always live in sorrow watching her clanmates adjust and slowly live happily in their newer home while she cannot.
Likes; Wandering the forest alone, running, climbing, darkness, the smell of rain, swimming, shrews, kits
Dislikes; Fighting (not because she doesn't like violence but because she can't fight as well as everyone else), not being accepted, her nightmares.
ᴬᴾᴾᴱᴬᴿᴬᴺᶜᴱ → Lithe and agile, this she-cat's body is made for running and swimming. She has a thin body hidden beneath her beautiful, soft fur that makes her fast and light on her feet. However, the price she pays for her being skinny is the fact she isn't strong. At all. Palewave has a lovely, lightly coloured under-pelt. It's a soft, dove grey basecoat mixed in with white to evenly blend the two into a very pale shade. It looks nearly white, really, but up close you can see the soft tint of pale grey. Overtop the basecoat are soft patches of very light ginger - hardly even passing as an orange and mostly look sandy - and patches of grey only a few shades darker than her basecoat smudging together. She isn't exactly a calico for she hardly passes as one as per to the colours looking so light and different, but that's the closest anyone can think of to describe her as. That is the very reason for her name. Her legs sort of fade out going downwards to appear snowy white, all the way top her snowy paws. No single cat can deny she holds the key to beauty in her paws. She is the perfect size (well, that being very small), the perfect shape, the perfect complexion. Everything about her appearance screams beauty, and its no surprise if any toms grew crushes on her if they weren't making fun of her growing up. She has no clue she is considered pretty since no one, not even her mother told her that.

нolland road - мυмғord & ѕonѕ
« «

So I was lost, go count the cost,
Before you go to the holland road,
With your heart like a stone you spared no time in lashing out,
And I knew your pain and the effect of my shame, but you cut me down, you cut me down,

And I will not tell the thoughts of hell
That carried me home from the Holland road
With my heart like a stone and I put up no fight
To your callous mind, and from your corner you rose to cut me down, you cut me down,

So I hit my low, but little did I know that would not be the end,
From the holland road well I rose and I rose, and I paid less time,
To your callous mind, and I wished you well as you cut me down, you cut me down,

But I'll still believe though there's cracks you'll see,
When I'm on my knees I'll still believe,
And when I've hit the ground, neither lost nor found,
If you'll believe in me I'll still believe

But I'll still believe though there's cracks you'll see,
When I'm on my knees I'll still believe,
And when I've hit the ground, neither lost nor found,
If you'll believe in me I'll still believe

Palewave's eyes are pools of a ceaseless ocean blue, hence the suffix to her name, wave. Pure, metallic light-blue, the color of the shallow, teal blue waters at some angles, and icy, pale blue in the direct sunlight most of the time. It gives the color of her eyes the most dashing thoughts, allowing anyone to look at her eyes to be stuck in the swirling of the colors. Too in between light and dark to be blue-green exactly when she's out of the sun; the complete difference of the flat teal. They're very confusing to look at. Yet, looking at this she-cat’s eyes, it is almost memorizing. Sun crisped colors entwined together to make the orbs of this cat. They seem to fit her coloring of her body with the perfection of Starclan. Illusion plays a major part in this cat’s pelt and eye color. Whether one truly looks at this she-cat or just glances, no one can miss how she is a pretty she-cat; though she honestly cannot tell what is beautiful about her. She shines in a different way, she never taunts her beauty, just allows herself to sink in shyness and hide away from the ‘awes’ of herself. Being the complete opposite of what anyone could call intimidating, she is not threatening, but the surprising thing about her eyes is that they are actually frightening to look at for too long. They are very pale most of the time, just like her pelt and almsot seem ghostly now thanks to her tiredness. They are piercing and powerful. They could reveal what she is thinking easily, but she chooses not to ever let them do so. She keeps them emotionless and blank, which makes them all the more frightening.

She could catch nearly any tom's attention, for she's looks gentle, delicate and vulnerable, though she believes no one pays her any attention like that. Beautiful, but fragile. The only real reason she seems to try and appear happy is to hide the hurt she feels inside. Palewave is a thoughtful she-cat and is often times described as absent-minded.

Though she appears harmless to the clan, Palewave has the ability to look almost as dangerous as an angered bear just from one deathly look. Though she cannot fight as much as her clanmates, she's always got ferocity and anger just building up inside her like a bomb about to explode. Amazingly, she remains well-kept on the outside. What she looks like to the waking world is the complete opposite in her dreams and thoughts. Her body was always never really meant for long-term fights - she just isn't really that muscular - and therefore led to the endless tormenting she received by her mentor. Thanks to her agile body frame, she's a quick runner and an amazing climber those are the only positive aspects of her thin body-type.
ᶜᴿᵁˁᴴ → None
ᴹᴬᵀᴱ → None
ᴷᴵᵀˁ → None
ᴷᴵᴺ → Pebblefur;; Father;; Deceased; Battle ϰχϰ
Rosethorn;; Mother;; Deceased; Sickness ϰχϰ
Berrydew;; Brother;; Deceased; Died in the rockslide ϰχϰ
Rainshadow;; Sister;; Missing; Unknown ϰχϰ
ᴴᴵˁᵀᴼᴿʸ → Palewave was one of two sisters in the strangely intelligent litter of three, and her mother and father were perfectly happy with that. From the moment they were born, it was obvious who Rosethorn and Pebblefur seemed to show favouritism to and that was not Palewave. Two moons after their birth, Pebblefur was killed in a in a brutal fight and left Rosethorn a heartbroken queen. When Palewave and her siblings were four moons old, Rosethorn couldn't bear it anymore. She tried jumping off of a high ledge, wanting to be rid of herself so desperately but some warriors stopped her. They reminded her of that lovely litter she still had to take care of even if she really didn't care about herself. She gave up on the suicide attempts and just didn't take care of herself. She fed and cleaned and took care of Palekit, Rainkit and Berrykit but she did not do so for herself. She seemed to always stare at Palekit with a strange look, as if she never belonged. She looked too different from the others. She was a light calico while her sister was a solid black she-cat and her brother was strong tom with grey-and-white patches. Rainkit's pelt came from Rosethorn's family; her own father was a solid black tom. Berrykit's pelt came from Pebblefur's side of the family and he had his father`s exact eyes. But there were no calicos in their family. She died soon after, not waking up one morning because she was malnourished and severely depressed.

Palewave and her littermates each had their apprentice ceremonies alone and abandoned with no parents to look on proudly and cats seem to respect her from her parents's tragic deaths. They trained together but Palewave had been held back - it seemed she wasn't fit to become a warrior yet, unlike her brother and sister. Other cats made fun of her and she seemed to want to give up and her mentor really had no faith in her. Emberthorn pushed her hard everyday though it was exceptionally harder for her to fight. That was why she had been held back. He had no clue why, but he was soon to learn from the medicine cat what was wrong with her. She was never going to grow any bigger and she was weaker than the others. She was more easliy proned to extreme blood loss and injury than others. She was informed of this later. Emberthorn made sure to remind her how stupid she was, which is the main reason she never says anything anymore, even though she really is brilliant - if she ever pointed anything out or made her mentor seem wrong, she would be rewarded with a slashed cheek. Finally, after 3 more moons of extra training, she received her full name. Beforehand, she had been told quite harshy by her mentor that she would be useless as a proper warrior even though she had tried as hard as she could. He insisted she be used for something else; it seemed to have her as an apprentice was an embarassment to him. Emberthorn attempted to get rid of her by suggesting she train under the medicine cat but the medicine cat already had an apprentice. He continued to train her as she pushed on and sometimes abused her without anyone knowing in his own frustration with her. But in the result of her efforts, she finally received her warrior name. She never forgot Emberthorn`s taunting and harshness.

Only a few moons later, they had been out for a walk after the three littermates had finally found time for all three to spend the day together. Tragically, they had crossed over a badger's path to it's burrow. Being the vicious creature it was, it attacked at once, leaving Palewave and Rainshadow extremely injured though they fought valiantly. Palewave had been smashed aside by the badger, winded and unable to move. Thanks to her undeveloped bone structure, that kind of injury was enough to seriously hurt her and hinder her from any other movements. Before it could close in on her for the final killing blow, her brother somehow blocked the way. Berrydew defended his sister successfully, leaving it badly injured in his own rage and protection towards Palewave since he and Rainshadow were the only two cats to show her love. Before the badger retreated, it trapped him inbetween it's jaws, crushing his leg horribly with it's sharp, large teeth. It had broken his leg but he was alive. It took a few moons for him to get back to doing the usual. Palewave would never forget how her brother was so courageous and daring that he'd almost risked his life for her. It was a miracle he was alive. Nearly a moon later, twolegs came into the forest to find the badger that had somehow been spotted near the city. Instead, they found Rainshadow who tried her hardest to drive them off to protect the Clan but ended up getting captured by them. Screaming and writhing, Palewave had to be held down by the patrol of warriors who had been with her to stop her from following her sister. But it was too late. She was trapped in a monster and gone.

She grew up with Berrydew but still felt isolated and by herself. It seemed she wasn't respected in the clan like her brother was. Over the time, she learned how to appear like everything was alright. No one ever challenged her in much, though she never really needed to be since she was always silent. Berrydew was always worrying about her because she never spoke. He was the only one who knew of the horrible things Thistlefoot did to her, but he could never tell anyone since the arrogant warrior was, well, arrogant, but respected because he was such a highly skilled fighter. Palewave had frequent nightmares after her parent`s deaths, Thistlefoot, and her sister disappearing. She'd wake up constantly, yelling their names desperately into the night. Sadly, no one would answer. But Berrydew would hold her and sleep beside her until the nightmares went away.

The day the rockslide happened, she was still quite young. Still a new warrior, along with Berrydew. Thanks to her quick movements and lithe figure, she had managed to dodge most of the boulders. But her brother was not as lucky as her. He was crushed horribly. Hearing him cry out across the clearing, Palewave made her way to him as fast as she could. She had no strength to move such an object and there was no hope in saving him but she never accepted that, promising him she would get him out. But he knew he wouldn`t. He died in minutes. Palewave had no choice but to leave him, no matter how much she wanted to stay with him. She had nothing without him, and wanted to just stay and die as well, but Stonestar forced her to leave. Another boulder headed her way as she tried to reach the remaining cats and she jumped out of the way just in time. But someone else had been caught right in front of the spot she had been standing on. It was Emberthorn. Screaming and lashing and cursing, he blamed her for this. Told her if she had been the one to be crushed, he would`ve lived through this. Blood pouring from his mouth, he never stopped staring at her, screaming in rage. He died soon after, looking absolutely insane as he did. Palewave, shaking and sobbing, made her way to the remnants of the clan and followed them to their new home, alone and broken.

It came to her knowledge then why so many cats didn't seem to care for her company - because she was viewed as 'useless'. It hurt, but she worked so hard to prove herself to her clanmates. She never got one of those looks. The looks a tom would flash towards a pretty she-cat. Someone that was funny. Or strong. But Palewave was neither. Or, at least, no one thought she was because no one wanted to bother finding anything out about her. Palewave was never given the chance in the sunlight. And the brutal, forceful warrior training excluded a lot of opportunities for her to be happy. No one but her littermates could see how smart she was, and still is. Her brain's always ticking and always sharp but still, that is one of the few untapped wonders about her that no one has discovered. She has been losing sleep all her life - suffering through the events she'd been through and listening to the cats her age tease and mock her repeatedly for moons led to her terrible insomnia. Nightmares would be the things welcoming her if she were to actually find sleep. She's always looked tired and almost ghostly thanks to that. She has much beauty, but her dark side that seemed to be revealed after her brother and mentor's deaths not long ago pushed many even farther away from her. After all, who wanted to spend time with a lonely, sad, skinny thing like her?


Form by Keriae
Images and songs belong to rightful owners