Post by Jos on Apr 25, 2020 19:46:36 GMT -5
Name: Stoatclaw
Age: 47 moons
Gender: she-cat
Clan: NightClan
Rank: Warrior
Picture:
Description:
Stoatclaw is a lithe, ginger tabby she-cat with pale yellow eyes. Her paws, the tip of her tail, muzzle, and one spot on her bib, are white. Stoatclaw also has a battle scar on her hind left leg which is barely visible except for when Stoatclaw gets wet. Her pelt is plush and soft, and her tail is large and bushy. Her claws are always perfectly manicured, kept sharp and clean and ready for battle at all times.
Stoatclaw’s eyes are very expressive, and often betray her true feelings if any cat knows to look for it. They also show her kinder side, and it is not unheard of to see a little glimmer of affection in them every once in a blue moon.
Description Summary: Lithe, ginger she-cat with pale golden eyes.
Personality:
Stoatclaw is ambitious; she knows what she wants in her life and she refuses to give up until she has reached her goal or has no other option than to accept defeat. Even in the face of failure Stoatclaw is the kind of cat to re-evaluate her methods, even her goals, to adapt to changing circumstances. Perhaps it would be appropriate to call her an optimist.
But her ambition does not define her, not completely. Stoatclaw is shrewd and always looking for the next challenge, the next puzzle or the next game. She finds clan politics are much to her liking, and will gladly spend her time discussing strategies and puzzling over why which leader said what, or what they meant by the things that were not said but rather shown.
This can sometimes be an obsession for her and Stoatclaw has been known to miss the forest for the trees, as it were. She gets bogged down in the minutia of things, as well as trying to read-between-the-lines when there are no in-betweens to read from. Some may say she has a touch of paranoia. Despite her ambition and mild paranoia, Stoatclaw does try to be fair and have empathy towards her adversaries, whoever they may be.
History:
Kit
Stoatkit had a picturesque upbringing with her siblings Newtkit and Pipitkit. Their parents were older warriors and very much in love but had waited a lot longer than many couples to have their first litter. Her mother, Lightstep, was a kind and gentle caretaker. Stoatclaw remembers Lightstep always had time to play with her little ones. Not that Stoatclaw ever had any problems finding kits to play with—three was a good number to keep themselves plenty busy in the nursery. Of her father Sunstorm she remembered his love and knowledge for the world around them and the creatures they shared their territory with. Her parents encouraged her ambitious nature, never telling her that something was impossible, but teaching her that not all goals are wise. From the two of them, Stoatkit had learned empathy, foresight, and levelheadedness.
Apprentice
Stoatpaw was a keener. She was one of those apprentices who was always up at the crack of dawn, always the first to volunteer for something, and eager almost to a fault. Her mentor often joked that Stoatpaw was joined to him by the tail, but that was not far off from the truth. The plucky young apprentice spent most of her time listening to the older cats talk, and she developed a love for inter-clan gossip after her first clan gathering. She learned a lot from listening and watching, but was never one to be afraid to speak her mind, even when she was with older apprentices and even warriors. But this ambition came with a price. In her youthful exuberance it seemed that her relationship with her brother Newtpaw was a small sacrifice compared with her career as a warrior of NightClan. Stoatpaw would often find ways to put Newtpaw down as a sort of comparison: ‘well at least I’m not like Newtpaw’, or ‘I’m better than at least Newtpaw’. Stoatpaw had convinced her young self that it was simply how cats rose through the ranks. It was simply competition—her ascent to warriorhood ahead of Newtpaw only reinforced this idea.
Warrior
Stoatclaw was just as hard working as a warrior as she had been as an apprentice. Still eager to please, wanting a paw in every patrol and on the pulse of the clans, she spent her time as a warrior building a name for herself. Stoatclaw is happiest when she is leading patrols or helping to solve some issue within the clans. She wants to be seen as an indispensable cat in Nightclan, a cat who, when she died, the clan would be crushed by her death. She wanted to be remembered fondly by her clanmates, and never forgotten. A cat who only does as much as is expected will never be remembered. One who does that and more? That is a cat whose name will live on. And Stoatclaw was frustratingly certain that her name deserved to live on.
It was only when she was given an apprentice of her own that she learned the meaning of humility, and what it took to truly lead. Nutpaw, a little brown scruff of an apprentice, was not the kind of cat Stoatclaw thought she deserved. She reminded her too much of Newtpaw at that age and Newtpaw had graduated late, Stoatclaw could not have an apprentice graduate late. But she knew well enough that to deny an apprentice was almost unheard of, and there must be some good reason they had been paired, so Stoatclaw begrudgingly began training Nutpaw.
It did not start well. Despite Nutpaw’s best efforts, Stoatclaw was never pleased. She was hard on Nutpaw—too hard—and instead of encouraging the apprentice to try harder Stoatclaw eventually drove her away. Nutpaw had gone off into the forest, desperate to prove that she was warrior material. Stoatclaw was beside herself with worry, though she found Nutpaw alive and mostly unharmed, and she learned that a cats’ value is in their uniqueness.
Several moons later, long after Nutpaw had earned her warrior name, Stoatclaw lost her father, Sunstorm, who was killed by a fox while out in the territory. Stoatclaw will use this opportunity to hopefully reconnect with Newtstripe, whom she regrets bullying as apprentices.
RP Example:
Stoatclaw skidded to a halt and lifted her muzzle and opened her mouth to taste the air. Where in Starclan’s name was Nutpaw? Her pelt prickled uneasily and she felt as though her heart were racing like a rabbit as images swirled around her mind of her apprentice mauled and dying by the claws and teeth of a fox, badger, or dog. Or perhaps Nutpaw had run afoul of some twolegs? Maybe she had crossed into another clan’s border? Or had she simply run away? No matter what happened to her, Nutpaw was gone, and it was all Stoatclaw’s fault.
For a few terrifying heartbeats Stoatclaw could not find Nutpaw’s scent. Had she lost her? “There!” she had caught it on the breeze, coming from the mountain border. Bat Cave, Stoatclaw thought to herself. Why would Nutpaw go to Bat Cave? Stoatclaw shook her head; she could ask all of these questions once she knew Nutpaw was safe.
The ginger warrior began running, as fast as her feet could carry her, through Nightclan territory and towards their mountain border. Nutpaw’s scent was strong now, and a hope surged through every sinew in Stoatclaw’s body, making her run all the faster.
Then there was a sickening sound: a cat’s battle screech. Nutpaw’s battle screech.
Stoatclaw’s pelt grew cold with dread as she turned towards the sound, kicking up pine needles and loose earth as she did. Before she even knew what she was fighting Stoatclaw launched herself at a hulking figure that had Nutpaw pinned on the forest floor with one big paw. The scent of blood was strong but Stoatclaw dug her claws into the thick pelt and bit down hard on the neck of the creature. The scent flooded her senses: badger.
The badger bucked and turned, trying to shake Stoatclaw off. Eventually it slammed itself into the ground, but Stoatclaw had let go and leapt off at the last moment. Stoatclaw got her first good look at the creature and realized, with a silent prayer of thanks to Starclan, that this was a young badger. A full grown one would have been nearly impossible to fight off with only one warrior and an apprentice.
Stoatclaw was emboldened by her apprentice's exuberance as Nutpaw, limping but bushed out, took her place beside her mentor. Both she-cats yowled and spat at the badger, working in tandem to drive the beast back. The badger was unsure which cat was attacking when and it swung its big head from side to side in desperation before giving up and retreating.
The two she-cats watched it go, still bushed up and panting heavily. “What in Starclans name were you doing out here?” Stoatclaw demanded.
Nutpaw lowered her ears, “I’m sorry! I just wanted to prove to you that I can be a warrior, and I am learning. But I was wrong! You were right…” the apprentice looked exhausted and was favoring her left forepaw. Stoatclaw could see how crushed Nutpaw was, and the little brown she-cat could barely meet Stoatclaw’s gaze.
“Nutpaw…” Stoatclaw meowed sadly, nuzzling the young apprentice, “No. I was wrong. I’m hard on myself, too, and that works for me. But not for you, and I saw that but I didn’t change the way I was teaching you. It was me who failed you. I’m…sorry. If you want a new mentor, I would understand.” The ginger warrior closed her eyes, worried what Nutpaw was going to decide.
After a few tense heartbeats Stoatclaw felt Nutpaw bury her muzzle in Stoatclaw’s shoulder. “No, that’s okay Stoatclaw…but maybe back at camp we can have some fresh kill and a nap?”
Joy soared through Stoatclaws pelt as she pulled away from Nutpaw and began walking back to camp, “Freshkill and a nap sounds like a good plan to me. Of course, you’ll need to get your leg checked out.” she purred. Nutpaw limped proudly alongside her mentor, “Yeah. It’s just a little sore. That was so cool how you jumped on the badger’s back—but did you see how I swatted at that badger? He’ll think twice before coming into our territory again!”
Stoatclaw gave a little ‘mrow’ of laughter, “It sure will.”
Age: 47 moons
Gender: she-cat
Clan: NightClan
Rank: Warrior
Picture:
Description:
Stoatclaw is a lithe, ginger tabby she-cat with pale yellow eyes. Her paws, the tip of her tail, muzzle, and one spot on her bib, are white. Stoatclaw also has a battle scar on her hind left leg which is barely visible except for when Stoatclaw gets wet. Her pelt is plush and soft, and her tail is large and bushy. Her claws are always perfectly manicured, kept sharp and clean and ready for battle at all times.
Stoatclaw’s eyes are very expressive, and often betray her true feelings if any cat knows to look for it. They also show her kinder side, and it is not unheard of to see a little glimmer of affection in them every once in a blue moon.
Description Summary: Lithe, ginger she-cat with pale golden eyes.
Personality:
Stoatclaw is ambitious; she knows what she wants in her life and she refuses to give up until she has reached her goal or has no other option than to accept defeat. Even in the face of failure Stoatclaw is the kind of cat to re-evaluate her methods, even her goals, to adapt to changing circumstances. Perhaps it would be appropriate to call her an optimist.
But her ambition does not define her, not completely. Stoatclaw is shrewd and always looking for the next challenge, the next puzzle or the next game. She finds clan politics are much to her liking, and will gladly spend her time discussing strategies and puzzling over why which leader said what, or what they meant by the things that were not said but rather shown.
This can sometimes be an obsession for her and Stoatclaw has been known to miss the forest for the trees, as it were. She gets bogged down in the minutia of things, as well as trying to read-between-the-lines when there are no in-betweens to read from. Some may say she has a touch of paranoia. Despite her ambition and mild paranoia, Stoatclaw does try to be fair and have empathy towards her adversaries, whoever they may be.
History:
Kit
Stoatkit had a picturesque upbringing with her siblings Newtkit and Pipitkit. Their parents were older warriors and very much in love but had waited a lot longer than many couples to have their first litter. Her mother, Lightstep, was a kind and gentle caretaker. Stoatclaw remembers Lightstep always had time to play with her little ones. Not that Stoatclaw ever had any problems finding kits to play with—three was a good number to keep themselves plenty busy in the nursery. Of her father Sunstorm she remembered his love and knowledge for the world around them and the creatures they shared their territory with. Her parents encouraged her ambitious nature, never telling her that something was impossible, but teaching her that not all goals are wise. From the two of them, Stoatkit had learned empathy, foresight, and levelheadedness.
Apprentice
Stoatpaw was a keener. She was one of those apprentices who was always up at the crack of dawn, always the first to volunteer for something, and eager almost to a fault. Her mentor often joked that Stoatpaw was joined to him by the tail, but that was not far off from the truth. The plucky young apprentice spent most of her time listening to the older cats talk, and she developed a love for inter-clan gossip after her first clan gathering. She learned a lot from listening and watching, but was never one to be afraid to speak her mind, even when she was with older apprentices and even warriors. But this ambition came with a price. In her youthful exuberance it seemed that her relationship with her brother Newtpaw was a small sacrifice compared with her career as a warrior of NightClan. Stoatpaw would often find ways to put Newtpaw down as a sort of comparison: ‘well at least I’m not like Newtpaw’, or ‘I’m better than at least Newtpaw’. Stoatpaw had convinced her young self that it was simply how cats rose through the ranks. It was simply competition—her ascent to warriorhood ahead of Newtpaw only reinforced this idea.
Warrior
Stoatclaw was just as hard working as a warrior as she had been as an apprentice. Still eager to please, wanting a paw in every patrol and on the pulse of the clans, she spent her time as a warrior building a name for herself. Stoatclaw is happiest when she is leading patrols or helping to solve some issue within the clans. She wants to be seen as an indispensable cat in Nightclan, a cat who, when she died, the clan would be crushed by her death. She wanted to be remembered fondly by her clanmates, and never forgotten. A cat who only does as much as is expected will never be remembered. One who does that and more? That is a cat whose name will live on. And Stoatclaw was frustratingly certain that her name deserved to live on.
It was only when she was given an apprentice of her own that she learned the meaning of humility, and what it took to truly lead. Nutpaw, a little brown scruff of an apprentice, was not the kind of cat Stoatclaw thought she deserved. She reminded her too much of Newtpaw at that age and Newtpaw had graduated late, Stoatclaw could not have an apprentice graduate late. But she knew well enough that to deny an apprentice was almost unheard of, and there must be some good reason they had been paired, so Stoatclaw begrudgingly began training Nutpaw.
It did not start well. Despite Nutpaw’s best efforts, Stoatclaw was never pleased. She was hard on Nutpaw—too hard—and instead of encouraging the apprentice to try harder Stoatclaw eventually drove her away. Nutpaw had gone off into the forest, desperate to prove that she was warrior material. Stoatclaw was beside herself with worry, though she found Nutpaw alive and mostly unharmed, and she learned that a cats’ value is in their uniqueness.
Several moons later, long after Nutpaw had earned her warrior name, Stoatclaw lost her father, Sunstorm, who was killed by a fox while out in the territory. Stoatclaw will use this opportunity to hopefully reconnect with Newtstripe, whom she regrets bullying as apprentices.
RP Example:
Stoatclaw skidded to a halt and lifted her muzzle and opened her mouth to taste the air. Where in Starclan’s name was Nutpaw? Her pelt prickled uneasily and she felt as though her heart were racing like a rabbit as images swirled around her mind of her apprentice mauled and dying by the claws and teeth of a fox, badger, or dog. Or perhaps Nutpaw had run afoul of some twolegs? Maybe she had crossed into another clan’s border? Or had she simply run away? No matter what happened to her, Nutpaw was gone, and it was all Stoatclaw’s fault.
For a few terrifying heartbeats Stoatclaw could not find Nutpaw’s scent. Had she lost her? “There!” she had caught it on the breeze, coming from the mountain border. Bat Cave, Stoatclaw thought to herself. Why would Nutpaw go to Bat Cave? Stoatclaw shook her head; she could ask all of these questions once she knew Nutpaw was safe.
The ginger warrior began running, as fast as her feet could carry her, through Nightclan territory and towards their mountain border. Nutpaw’s scent was strong now, and a hope surged through every sinew in Stoatclaw’s body, making her run all the faster.
Then there was a sickening sound: a cat’s battle screech. Nutpaw’s battle screech.
Stoatclaw’s pelt grew cold with dread as she turned towards the sound, kicking up pine needles and loose earth as she did. Before she even knew what she was fighting Stoatclaw launched herself at a hulking figure that had Nutpaw pinned on the forest floor with one big paw. The scent of blood was strong but Stoatclaw dug her claws into the thick pelt and bit down hard on the neck of the creature. The scent flooded her senses: badger.
The badger bucked and turned, trying to shake Stoatclaw off. Eventually it slammed itself into the ground, but Stoatclaw had let go and leapt off at the last moment. Stoatclaw got her first good look at the creature and realized, with a silent prayer of thanks to Starclan, that this was a young badger. A full grown one would have been nearly impossible to fight off with only one warrior and an apprentice.
Stoatclaw was emboldened by her apprentice's exuberance as Nutpaw, limping but bushed out, took her place beside her mentor. Both she-cats yowled and spat at the badger, working in tandem to drive the beast back. The badger was unsure which cat was attacking when and it swung its big head from side to side in desperation before giving up and retreating.
The two she-cats watched it go, still bushed up and panting heavily. “What in Starclans name were you doing out here?” Stoatclaw demanded.
Nutpaw lowered her ears, “I’m sorry! I just wanted to prove to you that I can be a warrior, and I am learning. But I was wrong! You were right…” the apprentice looked exhausted and was favoring her left forepaw. Stoatclaw could see how crushed Nutpaw was, and the little brown she-cat could barely meet Stoatclaw’s gaze.
“Nutpaw…” Stoatclaw meowed sadly, nuzzling the young apprentice, “No. I was wrong. I’m hard on myself, too, and that works for me. But not for you, and I saw that but I didn’t change the way I was teaching you. It was me who failed you. I’m…sorry. If you want a new mentor, I would understand.” The ginger warrior closed her eyes, worried what Nutpaw was going to decide.
After a few tense heartbeats Stoatclaw felt Nutpaw bury her muzzle in Stoatclaw’s shoulder. “No, that’s okay Stoatclaw…but maybe back at camp we can have some fresh kill and a nap?”
Joy soared through Stoatclaws pelt as she pulled away from Nutpaw and began walking back to camp, “Freshkill and a nap sounds like a good plan to me. Of course, you’ll need to get your leg checked out.” she purred. Nutpaw limped proudly alongside her mentor, “Yeah. It’s just a little sore. That was so cool how you jumped on the badger’s back—but did you see how I swatted at that badger? He’ll think twice before coming into our territory again!”
Stoatclaw gave a little ‘mrow’ of laughter, “It sure will.”