Sunrise on Fallen Snow - She-cat - Tribe of Forgotten Waters
Nov 24, 2017 18:55:58 GMT -5
Fawn likes this
Post by Taxx on Nov 24, 2017 18:55:58 GMT -5
Name: Sunrise on Fallen Snow
Age: 54 moons
Gender: She-cat
Clan: Tribe
Rank: Prey-hunter
Picture:
Description: Frostfire’s pelt is a mix of white, cream, and ginger shades. Her body, from neck to paws to rump, is mostly white-and-cream, but her head and tail sport stripes and splashes of ginger. It’s most pronounced at the corner of her eyes and over the bridge of her nose, and on the back of her ears. Her tail is a solid ginger color.
Her fur is of medium length, soft and thickest around her neck and on her tail. Her ears are a bit on the larger side, rounding at the tip, and her eyes are a clear, water-shaded blue. The left eye is marred by three trails of raised scar tissue, a memoir of a badger attack that made the vision in that eye diminish; she can see, but everything is too blurry to be of much help.
Frostfire has a step that's steady, a bit heavy, like she’s got the world on her shoulders. She doesn’t have the same spring that she used to; her easy cheer and greetings to each Clanmate she passed has turned to a sullen demeanor, a withdrawn manner that only breaks when she is addressed.
Description Summary: Snowy white she-cat with ginger ears and tail and blue eyes
Personality: Frostfire’s personality has gone through quite the drastic change. As a kit, she was as sweet and happy as any kit could be, playing with her brothers with her mother and father watching over them. Both parents gave love in plenty, and Frostkit took it all and turned it into the upbeat, outgoing sort of cat that you either love or get tired of quickly.
She had an extremely close relationship with Dovesong, and a friendly if not as strong one with her father, Cloudflight. Calling to him to come see something, only to be told he had to go patrol, put up a bit of a wall between the two, and she came to understand that the tom was the sort to enjoy a bit of time alone from time to time, to respect boundaries and to expect the same of his own.
She took a great interest in the Clan’s goings-on, and it wasn’t too odd for her to end up sneaking out of Dovecloud’s grasp to sit on the edge of the crowd of warriors to listen to what the Clan’s leader had to say to the Clan, and just as often being dragged back to the nursery by an annoyed but amused Dovesong.
With a good memory, she heard and retained all sorts of information, as well as random comments overheard, and yet she didn’t quite have a grip on the fact that it wasn’t okay to repeat what she heard from a cat about another. She grasped that quickly, when her innocent repeatings of tidbits caused strife between the cats.
As a cat with a strong sense of family, Frostfire takes the losses hard, struggling to cope when one or another has been lost to illness or injury. Her own personal losses of mate and kits have affected her deeply, and for a long while it was difficult to get her out of the medicine cat den at all.
Her acceptance into the Tribe is not assured yet, but the difference in surroundings and the fact that she’s truly needed has helped drag her from her lethargy.
History: Dovesong and Cloudfilight were never mates, but both were content with that- Cloudflight gave Dovesong the kits she wanted, and Dovesong gave Cloudflight the joy of being a father without demanding the commitment he wasn’t willing to give. Both parents, at least, were very involved in the kits’ lives, pushing and encouraging them as they grew from kits to apprentices.
Sleetshine, an aunt, was asked to mentor her, and Frostpaw quite literally leaped into apprenticeship from the first. She trained hard, pitting herself against Icepaw, and doing her best to keep up with him in terms of learning. Snowpaw, who had been apprenticed to Rookfrost, had his own agenda.
An accident that happened halfway through her apprenticeship, however, put her training briefly on hold. A badger’s unexpected strike carved deep wounds across the left side of her face, from ear to eye. The two apprentices with her helped her get back to Rookfrost and Snowpaw, and her brother was the one to do the majority of her care. Under his gentle paws and the medicine cat’s supervision, the young she-cat began to heal. Her eye was kept plastered with leaves and poultices, and throughout the healing process, the fear that she would never see out of it again was a constant itch in the back of her mind.
It was not as bad as she feared- but it was close. She could see, but nowhere as clearly as with her uninjured right eye. It takes effort to focus on anything, and she had to learn to rely more on her good eye. Nightstep’s offer to help her was accepted gratefully, and between him, Sleetshine, and Frostpaw’s own determination, she was able to turn the supposed disadvantage to her favor.
Her training continued; Icepaw had become a warrior by then, taking the name Icewhisker, and Frostpaw vowed that she’d join him before too long- her spunk and cheer hardly diminished by her ordeal. And at fifteen moons, she got her own name: Frostfire.
The following moons were full of ups and downs: Snowpaw became a full medicine cat, Snowheart, and Dovesong took another mate, birthing five precious kits, little half-siblings for Frostfire to fawn over- only for greencough to take Dovesong and Galekit, among other family members. Firebird took in the four surviving kits, but Frostfire’s interest in them had faded- she could only think of her mother when she saw them, and the pain remained sharp for some time. Her normal cheer faded for some time, but with the gradual passing of time and her remaining family coaxing her, she began to recover.
Snowheart died of greencough some time after, but the loss, while painful, didn’t send Frostfire back into her depression; she clung this time to Icefeather, using him to help her get past the latest loss.
Perhaps having an apprentice helped too; Sandpaw needed her to keep up her training, and Frostfire couldn’t let down the eager apprentice. Dedicated and a hard worker, the light sand tabby reminded Frostfire of herself, and it was an easy six moons before she got her warrior name: Sandblaze.
Two more apprentices followed- the first reached warrior status as Sandblaze had, but the second fell ill during the outbreak of greencough and never recovered. Frostfire herself became ill, but she managed to overcome the disease. She was upset over her apprentice’s death when he had barely begun training, but again, Icefeather helped her.
The sudden attention of a tom after that outbreak at first confused Frostfire, but she grew used to it quickly and before long, both were inseparable. When she asked Bramblestorm why he’d taken such a sudden interest in her, he’d told her he’d liked her a long time- it was only when she grew sick that he realized he might lose her, without having ever told her he cared. It made Frostfire a bit guilty that she’d hardly taken notice of him before, but she made up for it- he was an easy tom to love.
They both agreed it would be best to wait to have kits until the sickness was gone; when the Clan began to eat better, and the last cat recovered, then they decided it was time. They were both ready, prey was becoming more plentiful quickly- why not?
It didn’t take much time for her to suspect her pregnancy, and a confirmation by Kindleflare was followed by a giddy announcement to Bramblestorm. Both were pleased, happy, and looking forward to the kits- the tom already suggesting names despite not knowing what the kits were.
The fire that was sparked by lightning destroyed more than the camp. Cats died, choked by smoke or succumbing to injuries from the flames themselves. Bramblestorm was one of them. She’d been one of the first out, but he had stayed behind to help others. She never knew what happened, just that she waited for him to appear, but the last sight she saw of him was his scorched body.
Grief pierced deep, confusion and sorrow and disbelief that things had turned so quickly. Her mate was dead, and he’d never see the kits he’d been so thrilled about… The fear, stress, and grief resulted in a miscarriage- her last link to her mate, gone.
In the aftermath, Frostfire became completely withdrawn, hardly stirring to help the rebuilding of the camp. She barely ate, or drank, or slept; her entire being was a haze of pain and loss. Nothing anyone said could snap her out of it; when the camp was recovered enough for them to move back in, she was settled into the medicine cat’s den so Kindleflare could keep an eye on her.
She got plenty of visitors in the following days, but none of them seemed to do any good; she hardly reacted to anything said, lying in the nest and deaf to the world going on around her.
Time, however, was all she would have needed- it was gradual, but the thought that she was being a burden on the Clan- taking without giving anything- had begun to prick at her. And at the same time, it was difficult for her to imagine going on without Bramblestorm, when so much would remind her of him, the future she’d almost had before the fire had destroyed it.
What other choice did she have? Joining another Clan was unthinkable- the possibility of having to one day fight against the family she knew and loved wasn’t something she could ever do. Go loner? She couldn’t deny the temptation, but what if something happened to her? What if she couldn’t find prey? What about in the cold of leafbare- could she survive on her own, with nobody else around?
The answer lay in a place she hadn’t considered: the mountains. The Tribe of cats who lived there. Cherrypool’s explanation to Kindleflare drew Frostfire’s attention. It was as good a solution as any… better than the ones she’d considered. She mentioned her desire to go along to Cherrypool, who shrugged her agreement.
Frostfire couldn’t go without telling at least one cat- the way she’d been acting, she knew many would think the worst. She decided to tell Mudpelt; the steady tom wouldn’t make a fuss or beg her to stay. He understood why she couldn’t- or at least, accepted her reasons explaining why she couldn’t. He promised not to tell until after she had gone.
She and Cherrypool left at dawn, early enough to avoid any awkward questions, but they’d barely made it out of the territory when Icewhisker caught up, announcing his intentions to go along. When he refused to be deterred, Frostfire gave in.
The journey itself was quick- by sunset they had arrived at the Tribe’s cave home, met by a patrol of cave-guards and prey-hunters who were heading there themselves after a hunt. And while Cherry was settled in, her position as kit-mother assured from the start, Icewhisker and Frostfire were taken on as prey-hunters, beginning an instruction of catching prey vastly different from the techniques they’d learned as apprentices.
Everything, from the cave to the cats (most of them) to the new skills she was learning, all served to drag Frostfire from her lethargy. Her easy-going cheer has yet to make its re-appearance, but she’s become a bit more social in the half-moon since arriving at the Tribe, and her outlook on life seems to be slowly improving.
Other: To be renamed Sunrise On Fallen Snow
Age: 54 moons
Gender: She-cat
Clan: Tribe
Rank: Prey-hunter
Picture:
Description: Frostfire’s pelt is a mix of white, cream, and ginger shades. Her body, from neck to paws to rump, is mostly white-and-cream, but her head and tail sport stripes and splashes of ginger. It’s most pronounced at the corner of her eyes and over the bridge of her nose, and on the back of her ears. Her tail is a solid ginger color.
Her fur is of medium length, soft and thickest around her neck and on her tail. Her ears are a bit on the larger side, rounding at the tip, and her eyes are a clear, water-shaded blue. The left eye is marred by three trails of raised scar tissue, a memoir of a badger attack that made the vision in that eye diminish; she can see, but everything is too blurry to be of much help.
Frostfire has a step that's steady, a bit heavy, like she’s got the world on her shoulders. She doesn’t have the same spring that she used to; her easy cheer and greetings to each Clanmate she passed has turned to a sullen demeanor, a withdrawn manner that only breaks when she is addressed.
Description Summary: Snowy white she-cat with ginger ears and tail and blue eyes
Personality: Frostfire’s personality has gone through quite the drastic change. As a kit, she was as sweet and happy as any kit could be, playing with her brothers with her mother and father watching over them. Both parents gave love in plenty, and Frostkit took it all and turned it into the upbeat, outgoing sort of cat that you either love or get tired of quickly.
She had an extremely close relationship with Dovesong, and a friendly if not as strong one with her father, Cloudflight. Calling to him to come see something, only to be told he had to go patrol, put up a bit of a wall between the two, and she came to understand that the tom was the sort to enjoy a bit of time alone from time to time, to respect boundaries and to expect the same of his own.
She took a great interest in the Clan’s goings-on, and it wasn’t too odd for her to end up sneaking out of Dovecloud’s grasp to sit on the edge of the crowd of warriors to listen to what the Clan’s leader had to say to the Clan, and just as often being dragged back to the nursery by an annoyed but amused Dovesong.
With a good memory, she heard and retained all sorts of information, as well as random comments overheard, and yet she didn’t quite have a grip on the fact that it wasn’t okay to repeat what she heard from a cat about another. She grasped that quickly, when her innocent repeatings of tidbits caused strife between the cats.
As a cat with a strong sense of family, Frostfire takes the losses hard, struggling to cope when one or another has been lost to illness or injury. Her own personal losses of mate and kits have affected her deeply, and for a long while it was difficult to get her out of the medicine cat den at all.
Her acceptance into the Tribe is not assured yet, but the difference in surroundings and the fact that she’s truly needed has helped drag her from her lethargy.
History: Dovesong and Cloudfilight were never mates, but both were content with that- Cloudflight gave Dovesong the kits she wanted, and Dovesong gave Cloudflight the joy of being a father without demanding the commitment he wasn’t willing to give. Both parents, at least, were very involved in the kits’ lives, pushing and encouraging them as they grew from kits to apprentices.
Sleetshine, an aunt, was asked to mentor her, and Frostpaw quite literally leaped into apprenticeship from the first. She trained hard, pitting herself against Icepaw, and doing her best to keep up with him in terms of learning. Snowpaw, who had been apprenticed to Rookfrost, had his own agenda.
An accident that happened halfway through her apprenticeship, however, put her training briefly on hold. A badger’s unexpected strike carved deep wounds across the left side of her face, from ear to eye. The two apprentices with her helped her get back to Rookfrost and Snowpaw, and her brother was the one to do the majority of her care. Under his gentle paws and the medicine cat’s supervision, the young she-cat began to heal. Her eye was kept plastered with leaves and poultices, and throughout the healing process, the fear that she would never see out of it again was a constant itch in the back of her mind.
It was not as bad as she feared- but it was close. She could see, but nowhere as clearly as with her uninjured right eye. It takes effort to focus on anything, and she had to learn to rely more on her good eye. Nightstep’s offer to help her was accepted gratefully, and between him, Sleetshine, and Frostpaw’s own determination, she was able to turn the supposed disadvantage to her favor.
Her training continued; Icepaw had become a warrior by then, taking the name Icewhisker, and Frostpaw vowed that she’d join him before too long- her spunk and cheer hardly diminished by her ordeal. And at fifteen moons, she got her own name: Frostfire.
The following moons were full of ups and downs: Snowpaw became a full medicine cat, Snowheart, and Dovesong took another mate, birthing five precious kits, little half-siblings for Frostfire to fawn over- only for greencough to take Dovesong and Galekit, among other family members. Firebird took in the four surviving kits, but Frostfire’s interest in them had faded- she could only think of her mother when she saw them, and the pain remained sharp for some time. Her normal cheer faded for some time, but with the gradual passing of time and her remaining family coaxing her, she began to recover.
Snowheart died of greencough some time after, but the loss, while painful, didn’t send Frostfire back into her depression; she clung this time to Icefeather, using him to help her get past the latest loss.
Perhaps having an apprentice helped too; Sandpaw needed her to keep up her training, and Frostfire couldn’t let down the eager apprentice. Dedicated and a hard worker, the light sand tabby reminded Frostfire of herself, and it was an easy six moons before she got her warrior name: Sandblaze.
Two more apprentices followed- the first reached warrior status as Sandblaze had, but the second fell ill during the outbreak of greencough and never recovered. Frostfire herself became ill, but she managed to overcome the disease. She was upset over her apprentice’s death when he had barely begun training, but again, Icefeather helped her.
The sudden attention of a tom after that outbreak at first confused Frostfire, but she grew used to it quickly and before long, both were inseparable. When she asked Bramblestorm why he’d taken such a sudden interest in her, he’d told her he’d liked her a long time- it was only when she grew sick that he realized he might lose her, without having ever told her he cared. It made Frostfire a bit guilty that she’d hardly taken notice of him before, but she made up for it- he was an easy tom to love.
They both agreed it would be best to wait to have kits until the sickness was gone; when the Clan began to eat better, and the last cat recovered, then they decided it was time. They were both ready, prey was becoming more plentiful quickly- why not?
It didn’t take much time for her to suspect her pregnancy, and a confirmation by Kindleflare was followed by a giddy announcement to Bramblestorm. Both were pleased, happy, and looking forward to the kits- the tom already suggesting names despite not knowing what the kits were.
The fire that was sparked by lightning destroyed more than the camp. Cats died, choked by smoke or succumbing to injuries from the flames themselves. Bramblestorm was one of them. She’d been one of the first out, but he had stayed behind to help others. She never knew what happened, just that she waited for him to appear, but the last sight she saw of him was his scorched body.
Grief pierced deep, confusion and sorrow and disbelief that things had turned so quickly. Her mate was dead, and he’d never see the kits he’d been so thrilled about… The fear, stress, and grief resulted in a miscarriage- her last link to her mate, gone.
In the aftermath, Frostfire became completely withdrawn, hardly stirring to help the rebuilding of the camp. She barely ate, or drank, or slept; her entire being was a haze of pain and loss. Nothing anyone said could snap her out of it; when the camp was recovered enough for them to move back in, she was settled into the medicine cat’s den so Kindleflare could keep an eye on her.
She got plenty of visitors in the following days, but none of them seemed to do any good; she hardly reacted to anything said, lying in the nest and deaf to the world going on around her.
Time, however, was all she would have needed- it was gradual, but the thought that she was being a burden on the Clan- taking without giving anything- had begun to prick at her. And at the same time, it was difficult for her to imagine going on without Bramblestorm, when so much would remind her of him, the future she’d almost had before the fire had destroyed it.
What other choice did she have? Joining another Clan was unthinkable- the possibility of having to one day fight against the family she knew and loved wasn’t something she could ever do. Go loner? She couldn’t deny the temptation, but what if something happened to her? What if she couldn’t find prey? What about in the cold of leafbare- could she survive on her own, with nobody else around?
The answer lay in a place she hadn’t considered: the mountains. The Tribe of cats who lived there. Cherrypool’s explanation to Kindleflare drew Frostfire’s attention. It was as good a solution as any… better than the ones she’d considered. She mentioned her desire to go along to Cherrypool, who shrugged her agreement.
Frostfire couldn’t go without telling at least one cat- the way she’d been acting, she knew many would think the worst. She decided to tell Mudpelt; the steady tom wouldn’t make a fuss or beg her to stay. He understood why she couldn’t- or at least, accepted her reasons explaining why she couldn’t. He promised not to tell until after she had gone.
She and Cherrypool left at dawn, early enough to avoid any awkward questions, but they’d barely made it out of the territory when Icewhisker caught up, announcing his intentions to go along. When he refused to be deterred, Frostfire gave in.
The journey itself was quick- by sunset they had arrived at the Tribe’s cave home, met by a patrol of cave-guards and prey-hunters who were heading there themselves after a hunt. And while Cherry was settled in, her position as kit-mother assured from the start, Icewhisker and Frostfire were taken on as prey-hunters, beginning an instruction of catching prey vastly different from the techniques they’d learned as apprentices.
Everything, from the cave to the cats (most of them) to the new skills she was learning, all served to drag Frostfire from her lethargy. Her easy-going cheer has yet to make its re-appearance, but she’s become a bit more social in the half-moon since arriving at the Tribe, and her outlook on life seems to be slowly improving.
Other: To be renamed Sunrise On Fallen Snow