[Fawn]

Name: Shadowkit - Shadowpaw - Shadowchaser
Age: 6 Moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: NightClan
Rank: Kit, Medicine Cat

DSC_6123.jpg by Petr Mára, on Flickr


::: Žofka ::: by Petr Mára, on Flickr

Description:

Given the name Shadowkit for being, essentially, a tinier version of his adopted father Hollowcry, the two are exceptionally similar. With the same rich brown coloring and luminous golden eyes, he appears to be Hollowcry’s tiny doppelganger. His whiskers are even a light, complementary brown, and his fur is short, lying close to the body though still giving off the appearance of softness.

As an adult, he will be sleek and handsome, able to blend in with the shadows and take full advantage of NightClan’s preference for nocturnal hunting. Though he lacks the dappled fur of his three elder sisters, he seems to have inherited some of their grace and nimbleness; not a particularly tall cat, the length of his limbs and tail create almost an optical illusion. Though halfway in size between Echobreeze and Hollowcry, you would hardly know it until he stood shoulder to shoulder with his adopted-father, and it became clear there was roughly an inch in height difference between them.

His talents will be in speed and stealth, and his body seems built for it. Neither exceptionally strong or exceptionally fast, he is simply clever and very very good at avoiding things. Like a shadow, he is hard to hit.
Like a shadow, he is hard to notice when he doesn’t want to be.

Additional Photos: www.flickr.com/photos/petrmara/albums/72157594275390543

Description Summary: Thin dark-brown tom with luminous golden eyes and short fur.

Personality:

A polite tom, Shadowkit may be a shadow of his adopted father but he walks in Echobreeze’s pawsteps; without her stammer, he is merely a kind, well-mannered tom who prefers to be agreeable to argumentative. It’s as if his sisters took all of the more volatile, powerful personality traits, and he was left with honesty, politesse, charity, and inquisitiveness. There’s the other half of the coin, however; ‘greed’ seems to be a learned trait passed on from Hollowcry. Shadowkit wouldn’t say he is particularly possessive, but every now and again there is a childish flare of selfishness, as he becomes unwilling to share the mouse his father brought him or he holds close the story the elders’ told him when the other kits ask him to repeat it.

He means no harm, really. Shadowkit can’t really explain that occasional compulsion to keep things to himself, to hold things close at heart, but it’s present. There’s a very strong possibility that it has something to do with three big sisters who seem to be the best at so many things. He will never have Thornpaw’s head for strategy, Darkpaw’s knack for fighting or Cobrapaw’s cunning, so he clings to the things that feel distinctly… his.

Because of his need to hold onto things, Shadowkit can be somewhat manipulative; never with his family, but with his peers and other Clanmates, he can manage to find the right word to say or even the right expression to make that will yield the best results. It’s not out of mean-spiritedness, but more of a survival technique, a brand of cunning all his own.

Limber both in body and in mind, Shadowkit will be the tom that has a variety of friends; he does not pick and choose who he calls a friend and who he calls an enemy, he prefers to hoard them all the way a dragon hoards gold. If you are friends with all your denmates, then there is never any sense of longing, as if you crave something you cannot have. Perhaps, if he had been born with a littermate to compete with, Shadowkit may have turned out a little… aggressive? A little more selfish or dark-hearted in his behaviors?

But he did not, and with Echobreeze’s and Hollowcry’s sole attention for the first few moons of his life, he has grown into a well-balanced young cat that, short of any disasters of the heart or body, should grow into a fine warrior.

History:

Ebonywing had not wanted a kit. Not really. Caught up in a whirlwind romance with a senior warrior much older than she, that blissful three-moon period ended as quickly - and abruptly - as it started. After finding out with both joy and trepidation that she was pregnant, Ebonywing confronted the father of her litter, Pinefur, but any peaceable discussions over forming their own little family quickly broke down. Pinefur was uninterested in parenthood, and, barring severe circumstances that would give her no choice, Ebonywing didn't want to raise the litter by herself.

Hurt that Pinefur didn't seem to care - about her, about their litter, about their relationship - Ebonywing spent a bitter moon in the nursery leading up to the kitting. Not even Pinefur's brother, Briarthroat, acting as mediator could find a resolution between careless sire and jilted lover. Each day, she grew more restless. She just wanted to forget she'd ever made such a mistake in the first place. Not about to sacrifice personal freedom for an unwanted litter, as soon as a tiny scrap of black fur was brought into the world, Ebonywing gave it away.

Fearing she would grow attached or that her suppressed maternal instincts would talk her out of her decision, Ebonywing left the scrap of fur in the care of another queen. Echobreeze.

With Echobreeze to take care of it, Ebonywing faded back into the rest of NightClan society, and out of that kitten's life. The kit was named Shadowkit after his striking resemblance to his adoptive father, Hollowcry. A bit small compared to his three healthy foster-siblings, Shadowkit was always padding behind them, trying his best to keep up - never knowing that Echobreeze and Hollowcry weren't even his birth parents.

Though the rest of the Clan is generally aware of the truth, it's become an unspoken rule that Echobreeze and Hollowcry should be the ones to talk to him about it. Now that he is about to take his first steps into the world of apprenticeship, the time to discuss his heritage is quickly approaching.

Now old enough to pad after his sisters with curiosity in his eyes and questions on his tongue, Shadowkit is by no means a bothersome kit, in fact he’s quite mild-mannered and polite, and like all kits his age, he aspires to be a warrior like his parents. He’s in no rush to grow up, however, with the weather transitioning into leafbare, he’s a bit uninterested in leaving the nursery so soon.

Apprenticeship

Shadowchaser's complicated past has taken another turn. Around the time that the greencough epidemic struck NightClan, Pinefur began to have a change of heart. But how does a cat approach their kit, who has such a happy family without him, and tell him the truth?

You don't.

Any opportunities to connect with his son (albeit while keeping his identity a secret) were cut short. Greencough devastated NightClan, and took so many from their ranks; Pinefur included. Shadowchaser also lost his adopted father, Hollowcry, and to this day is unaware that he lost both father figures in one season. Ebonywing remains alive, but has made no efforts to contact her son or let him know the truth about his parentage.

Medicine Cat

Sootfeather's kitting (WIP)

RP Example:

It was lonely, sleeping in a nest all by himself. Smokefur's den was a delight for the curiously-inclined, but when that wonderment faded and his head ached from all the knowledge he'd tried to absorb that day, all Shadowpaw truly wanted was to curl up with his family. Shadowpaw gently kneaded his nest, causing the scents of Hollowcry, Echobreeze, and his three sisters to waft up in a comforting aroma. He'd asked for a little of their bedding, and they'd obliged, even with minimal teasing from his sisters.

Shadowpaw settled down, burying his nose in the moss that smelled most like his mother, and laid his tail over his eyes to keep out even a hint of light. "Goodnight Smokefur," he yawned, "Dream well." Despite the homesickness, the small black-furred tom was asleep even before he could hear his mentor's reply.

”I swear to take no more than I need, Mr. Spider.”
The arachnid chittered at him angrily, guarding a thick mass of cobwebs that the apprentice was trying to get at. Withdrawing his paw lest he get bitten, Shadowpaw sighed. “Yes, I know you spent days working on it, Mr. Spider. I’m sorry, but I don’t want anyone to die because we didn’t have enough cobwebs.” Smokefur was much better at this than he was; the spiders didn’t like him very much.

The spider turned its back to him.

Shadowpaw sat as patiently as he could manage, wracking his brains for a solution that wouldn’t involve rudeness or brute strength. Neither of those things really appealed to him. A trade! What spider could resist a fair trade?

“I’ll bring you some flies,” he mewed, tempting the spider to turn around and consider his words. “Nice juicy ones, right from the ambush pond.”

The spider chittered thoughtfully, and Shadowpaw thought he saw reluctant interest in those eight shiny black eyes. He was finally getting somewhere!

”Shadowpaw! Shadowpaw, Darkpaw’s got a thorn stuck in her shoulder!”

The spider negotiations were abruptly ended, however, as the call of his sister, Cobrapaw, drew him back from his whimsical dreams. Shadowpaw lurched to his paws, shaking a few scraps of moss from his pelt and hurrying to meet his siblings. Darkpaw was hissing under her breath, with Cobrapaw sniffing what must’ve been the point of entry. Thornpaw, unsurprisingly, was standing nearby, but she greeted him with a smile.

Shadowpaw put on a look of confusion, pointing to Thornpaw with his tail.
”But Thornpaw’s right here.”

”Haha, very funny. Just get this stupid thing out already!” Darkpaw’s tail lashed like a wind-whipped reed.

He let the playfulness go, and went back into the medicine cat’s den. What do we need for thorns? Dock leaves soothe scratches… Did this count as a scratch? Aware that his sister was probably very uncomfortable, Shadowpaw hurried as much as he could without dropping anything. Taking a leaf of dock, he hopped on three legs (a little wad of cobweb on his front right paw) to Darkpaw’s side. Shadowpaw sat up on his haunches, and felt around for the thorn, clasping it as carefully as he could with his teeth. ”Sowwy.” This was going to hurt a bit. With a steady grasp, Shadowpaw pulled the thorn free, spitting it on the ground beside them. ”Thornpaw, can you throw that away please? I don’t want anyone else stepping on it.” That seemed like the right thing to do.

Darkpaw had grunted in pain when he’d pulled the thorn out (it had been almost as long as a cat’s claw!), and still looked like she wanted to cuff him around the ears, but she held still as the dock was chewed up and applied to the little scratch. The cobwebs were dabbed on to hold the dock in place.

It was just a little scratch, so she won’t need it on all day. Shadowpaw’s tail wove thoughtful S-patterns in the air behind him. ”Go easy on your shoulder for a bit, Darkpaw. You can take it off at moonhigh.” After a moment, Shadowpaw added. ”Sorry, you never mentioned how you got the thorn stuck in your shoulder?”

Thornpaw purred behind him, obviously having returned from disposing of her namesake. Her claws unsheathed as she dropped into a playful crouch. ”Like this!”

Shadowpaw ducked just in time, as an orange-and-ginger she-cat flew over him to land near Cobrapaw. He shook his head, not sure whether to feel good to be included in their roughhousing, or resigned to their triple aggression for the rest of his moons.

Something tells me this won’t be the last time I have to patch one of them up.

But he didn’t mind. Their places were on the battlefield, or in the pine forests hunting for the Clan. His place was right here, tending to the injured and the infirm, supporting the Clan and his kin in subtler but no less vital ways.

Other:
Adopted by Echobreeze & Hollowcry.
Applying for Medicine Cat Apprentice of NightClan!