Post by Phoenix on Jun 2, 2020 17:53:47 GMT -5
Basics
NAME: shrikekit - shrikepaw - shrikesong
AGE: sixty moons
GENDER: she-cat
CLAN: treeclan
RANK: warrior
AGE: sixty moons
GENDER: she-cat
CLAN: treeclan
RANK: warrior
Identification
PICTURE: image
BRIEF: a pretty white bengal she-cat with piercing pale blue eyes
DETAILED:
BRIEF: a pretty white bengal she-cat with piercing pale blue eyes
DETAILED:
Elegance personified, Shrikesong is a gorgeous she-cat who moves with the easy confidence of one who has faced trouble and come out the other side to realize she is stronger than she initially believed. More out of habit than any particular fussiness, her appearance is respectably maintained, and all across her body, a constellation of black rosettes and stripes is plastered over a backdrop of silvery white. The pattern becomes more delicate on her head, carefully outlining piercing pale blue eyes and small features upon which usually rests a plesant smile. Indeed, such warmth is evident in the way she carries herself, always open and welcoming. Always moving. Though in truth she is but of an average size, short fur accentuates an already lean frame and gives the impression of long legs and a longer body. Perhaps it is the size of her heart or the strength of the fire in her soul, but Shrikesong often seems larger than she is. And she is not above taking advantage of it to leap to another's defense.
Behavior
SONG: rise
LIKES: spending time with loved ones, watching her kits grow up, making others smile
DISLIKES: violence, fear, injustice, suffering
DETAILED:
LIKES: spending time with loved ones, watching her kits grow up, making others smile
DISLIKES: violence, fear, injustice, suffering
DETAILED:
Some cats are sand, shifting and changing with the ebb and flow of time, but not Shrikesong. Shrikesong is bedrock: solid, steady, and resolute in her ways. A stable, comfortable childhood with loving and attentive parents has produced an intelligent, thoughtful she-cat with a very strong moral compass and a worldview as generous as her heart. Indeed, the warmth of her smile and the kindness in her eyes make it clear, even within moments of meeting her, that the she-cat has a large heart. Sensitive and a natural caregiver, she will never hesitate to help others, always willing to shoulder the burden so her companion doesn’t have to – even at her own expense. Maintaining enough emotional distance to keep everything in perspective does not come naturally to Shrikesong, but what others see as a danger, she sees as a strength. If they asked her, she would say that in a world of warriors who are quick to unsheathe their claws, there can never be enough empathy and understanding - it is a lesson that she had to learn herself and has never forgotten. There would, undoubtedly, be less misery if they could all sit back every now and then and remember that they were all the same in the end: flesh and blood and bone just trying to find happiness.
To that end, she is a steadfast believer in second chances. There are no bad cats – only unfortunate circumstances and bad decisions – so she makes it a point to give others the benefit of the doubt. If individuals are given the opportunity to do so, they will be kind and good and make the right choice. Though Shrikesong says she only trusts in the good of others until they give her a reason to believe otherwise, she won’t deny that she fully believes that even the worst cats can be redeemed with enough love and kindness. The idea that someone would go out of their way to intentionally hurt others, that someone could somehow derive some sort of sick pleasure from targeting weaker individuals is unthinkable.
For her entire life, a strong sense of justice has led her to speak out in defense of others, but motherhood has taken her protective streak and made it introspective. What kind of example is she setting for her kits? What kind of world does she want to leave behind for them? The minute she looked at her helpless kits and realized that she would do anything for them, she knew that she wanted to protect them from the worst of what life had to offer. She would raise them and teach them compassion and loyalty and responsibility. She would leave them a better, kinder, fairer world – one where bitter grudges gave way to forgiveness and border disputes were solved with words instead of claws – and, she resolved, she would start building it herself.
Optimistic at best and foolhardy at worst, she sees the world more for what it could be than what it is, but her desire to keep the cup half full does not by any means indicate naivety. Intellectually, Shrikesong knows all too well the pain and fear that the valley inflicts on its inhabitants, but why should she linger over the misery? For the owner of such a keen mind, she is very good at being willfully blind. She is not a bad cat, but she finds comfort in the way certain things fit neatly into the little organized boxes in her mind. Those that do not, well, it’s easier to sweep those aside and try to forget about them. Such harsh realities are especially difficult for her to swallow, particularly those unfair twists and turns of life for which there are no logical explanation. As a result, unacknowledged denial has become an old and equally unacknowledged friend, driving her to great lengths to try to rationalize unfortunate events, to make something out of nothing, until she is finally forced to accept the unpleasant truth for what it is.
Perhaps due to the amount of uncomfortable soul searching and the loss of innocence that accompanied them, those few moments where she could no longer turn a blind eye stick in her mind. She has certain beliefs to which she remains steadfast, but as time passes, she has been forced to acknowledge the occasional exceptions to those rules. No cat is without their skeletons under their nest, though Shrikesong’s is living and breathing and located just across the border: Clovermask, warrior of NightClan. This she-cat and Shrikesong’s feelings toward her are complicated. The younger cat has always had a bit more steel in her than Shrikesong did, but the NightClan warrior’s attack on Shrikesong’s mate revealed the dangers of that strength – and the depth of Clovermask’s possessiveness. An old, maternal affection has become intertwined with a more recent disillusioned wariness. Even as a part of her longs for the simpler days when Clovermask was a trusted friend, she knows that the only thing she can trust now about the other she-cat is just how untrustworthy she is. It hurts her heart that their relationship has deteriorated so, but the other warrior is a clear danger to her family. Now that her kits have left the safety of the nursery, they must be kept away from Clovermask, regardless of how she herself feels toward the other cat.
Fortified with the realization that she will do anything to keep her kits safe, Shrikesong has found that she has plenty of fire to match Clovermask's steely ice.
Shrikesong’s worldview is built upon the following tenets, which she strives to embody and for her are set in stone:
To that end, she is a steadfast believer in second chances. There are no bad cats – only unfortunate circumstances and bad decisions – so she makes it a point to give others the benefit of the doubt. If individuals are given the opportunity to do so, they will be kind and good and make the right choice. Though Shrikesong says she only trusts in the good of others until they give her a reason to believe otherwise, she won’t deny that she fully believes that even the worst cats can be redeemed with enough love and kindness. The idea that someone would go out of their way to intentionally hurt others, that someone could somehow derive some sort of sick pleasure from targeting weaker individuals is unthinkable.
For her entire life, a strong sense of justice has led her to speak out in defense of others, but motherhood has taken her protective streak and made it introspective. What kind of example is she setting for her kits? What kind of world does she want to leave behind for them? The minute she looked at her helpless kits and realized that she would do anything for them, she knew that she wanted to protect them from the worst of what life had to offer. She would raise them and teach them compassion and loyalty and responsibility. She would leave them a better, kinder, fairer world – one where bitter grudges gave way to forgiveness and border disputes were solved with words instead of claws – and, she resolved, she would start building it herself.
Optimistic at best and foolhardy at worst, she sees the world more for what it could be than what it is, but her desire to keep the cup half full does not by any means indicate naivety. Intellectually, Shrikesong knows all too well the pain and fear that the valley inflicts on its inhabitants, but why should she linger over the misery? For the owner of such a keen mind, she is very good at being willfully blind. She is not a bad cat, but she finds comfort in the way certain things fit neatly into the little organized boxes in her mind. Those that do not, well, it’s easier to sweep those aside and try to forget about them. Such harsh realities are especially difficult for her to swallow, particularly those unfair twists and turns of life for which there are no logical explanation. As a result, unacknowledged denial has become an old and equally unacknowledged friend, driving her to great lengths to try to rationalize unfortunate events, to make something out of nothing, until she is finally forced to accept the unpleasant truth for what it is.
Perhaps due to the amount of uncomfortable soul searching and the loss of innocence that accompanied them, those few moments where she could no longer turn a blind eye stick in her mind. She has certain beliefs to which she remains steadfast, but as time passes, she has been forced to acknowledge the occasional exceptions to those rules. No cat is without their skeletons under their nest, though Shrikesong’s is living and breathing and located just across the border: Clovermask, warrior of NightClan. This she-cat and Shrikesong’s feelings toward her are complicated. The younger cat has always had a bit more steel in her than Shrikesong did, but the NightClan warrior’s attack on Shrikesong’s mate revealed the dangers of that strength – and the depth of Clovermask’s possessiveness. An old, maternal affection has become intertwined with a more recent disillusioned wariness. Even as a part of her longs for the simpler days when Clovermask was a trusted friend, she knows that the only thing she can trust now about the other she-cat is just how untrustworthy she is. It hurts her heart that their relationship has deteriorated so, but the other warrior is a clear danger to her family. Now that her kits have left the safety of the nursery, they must be kept away from Clovermask, regardless of how she herself feels toward the other cat.
Fortified with the realization that she will do anything to keep her kits safe, Shrikesong has found that she has plenty of fire to match Clovermask's steely ice.
Shrikesong’s worldview is built upon the following tenets, which she strives to embody and for her are set in stone:
- Cats are inherently good, and bad circumstances that make them do bad things.
- It is important to stand up for those you love and what you believe in.
- Leave the world a better place than the one you joined.
(There may be some exceptions, but we don't talk about those.)
History
FAMILY
KIT:
APPRENTICE:
WARRIOR:
MOTHER: mom
FATHER: dad
SIBLINGS: badgerbite
FATHER: dad
SIBLINGS: badgerbite
KIT:
Though time has since stolen many of the specifics, Shrikesong looks back at her time in the nursery with a warm fondness. In those days, the sun was always shining and prey never ran short. She remembers playing with her younger brother (by minutes at most but every second matters with these things), Badgerkit, in the camp. They ran around and tumbled all day long on those beautiful perfect days before curling up together, nestled safely against their mother’s side, when the moon rose. (She also remembers the fierce fights with him, trading insults one moment and then making up many moments later, as only siblings can, though she doesn’t like to linger on those memories.)
In those days, the nursery was full of life, and theirs was not the only litter of energetic kits. Jaykit and Ashkit called the next nest over home, and the two brothers were Shrikekit’s and Badgerkit’s most frequent playmates. Of the four of them, Shrikekit and Jaykit were the closest, bonding over the annoyance of having younger brothers. He was outgoing and friendly, a counterpart to her more reserved nature, and she always admired that about him. The two of them, sometimes accompanied by their brothers, went on all sorts of make-believe adventures, usually acting out scenes of nobility and courage from the stories they listened to at the end of the day. Other times they made up their own, pretending that they were Shrikestar and Badgerstar and Jaystar and Ashstar and that all of their clans had to work together to save the valley from chaos. That particular game was a favorite of hers – the cooperation, the ability to help and protect others, the bravery all appealed to her.
Carried along by the blow of time, days passed rather quickly, though it didn’t always feel like it. Under their parents’ watchful eyes and loving care, Shrikekit and Badgerkit grew into pleasant young cats. They were never much trouble; generally averse to risk, the former was perfectly content to stay within the bounds of the rules, while the latter was perfectly happy to construct mossballs and bat them around camp. Sometimes their parents called on them to help out – spend time with the elders, clean out the nursery, run and fetch prey from the pile for so-and-so, come watch the kits – and though she didn’t realize it then, it was during those tasks that Shrikekit was learning the most important lesson: how to make the world a better place.
In those days, the nursery was full of life, and theirs was not the only litter of energetic kits. Jaykit and Ashkit called the next nest over home, and the two brothers were Shrikekit’s and Badgerkit’s most frequent playmates. Of the four of them, Shrikekit and Jaykit were the closest, bonding over the annoyance of having younger brothers. He was outgoing and friendly, a counterpart to her more reserved nature, and she always admired that about him. The two of them, sometimes accompanied by their brothers, went on all sorts of make-believe adventures, usually acting out scenes of nobility and courage from the stories they listened to at the end of the day. Other times they made up their own, pretending that they were Shrikestar and Badgerstar and Jaystar and Ashstar and that all of their clans had to work together to save the valley from chaos. That particular game was a favorite of hers – the cooperation, the ability to help and protect others, the bravery all appealed to her.
Carried along by the blow of time, days passed rather quickly, though it didn’t always feel like it. Under their parents’ watchful eyes and loving care, Shrikekit and Badgerkit grew into pleasant young cats. They were never much trouble; generally averse to risk, the former was perfectly content to stay within the bounds of the rules, while the latter was perfectly happy to construct mossballs and bat them around camp. Sometimes their parents called on them to help out – spend time with the elders, clean out the nursery, run and fetch prey from the pile for so-and-so, come watch the kits – and though she didn’t realize it then, it was during those tasks that Shrikekit was learning the most important lesson: how to make the world a better place.
APPRENTICE:
After six picture perfect moons in the nursery, it was with some trepidation that Shrikepaw moved with Badgerpaw to the apprentice’s den. She had grown accustomed to the routine as a kit, and she enjoyed the comfortable familiarity of knowing what to expect; the process of changing everything had her hesitating uncertainly. What if she didn’t like it? What if she and her mentor, a young tom named Crookedclaw, didn’t get along? What if she was horrible at everything and they decided she wasn’t cut out to be a warrior after all?
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried. The first week or so was painless. She picked up the basics easily and her dedication and worth ethic made up for what she lacked in natural ability. Lionstar knew what he was doing when it came to pairing mentors and apprentices – until he didn’t. Everything when downhill as the confident, perfect warrior who knew everything slowly fell away to reveal an insecure first-time mentor who wasn’t sure how to handle a determined young apprentice who demanded to know everything. (If she knew everything, then she didn’t have to worry about unpleasant surprises because she could prepare for them in advance.) Hers and Crookedclaw’s promising relationship started to deteriorate as she found herself growing increasingly frustrated with what he couldn’t do.
Badgerpaw was having difficulties of his own. As the youngest and smallest tom in the den, he often found himself the victim of the older toms’ harsh words. Jaypaw and Ashpaw, who had become apprentices a moon before them, never participated in the teasing, but they also never really stopped it either. Shrikepaw urged her brother to stand up for himself, especially against Darkpaw, who was the worst of the lot. Insisting that he was fine, Badgerpaw never did, so she stepped in and fought his battles for him, facing off against Darkpaw to try and spare her brother some pain. She was angry with Jaypaw and Ashpaw, too, for refusing to step up to try to stop the bullying. There was, after all, strength in numbers – plus she had expected better of them.
A moon passed and then another and the situation with Crookedclaw didn’t improve. She complained to her parents, and when they told her to take a deep breath and give him a chance – but she had given him a whole two moons, didn’t they understand? – she went and complained to Lionstar. She wanted a new mentor, one who could keep up with her and didn’t look like he would be knocked over by a stiff breeze. But Lionstar, who she was sure would understand because he was Lionstar, was as unhelpful as her parents. Talk with him, the leader urged. If Crookedclaw was doing something wrong, it wasn’t intentional. It never hurt to supplement her training by working with other warriors, but her mentor was a good cat, with more to teach than just hunting and fighting; she would be wise to learn from him – to give him a second chance. If she did – and gave him a real one – and it still didn’t work out, he promised, he would find someone else to teach her.
Shrikepaw tried, but old habits were hard to kill. They fell into their old routine of unimpressed apprentice and mentor who was trying his best. Frustration at feeling like she wasn’t learning anything and the fear of not being good enough combined with her growing irritation at Darkpaw's behavior and everyone’s unwillingness, especially Jaypaw’s, to do anything about it.
Everything came to a tipping point when she finally snapped and lashed out at Darkpaw. The fight was short but fierce (as it turned out, she actually had learned things under Crookedclaw’s uninspiring tutelage), and it ended when Jaypaw stepped in between them. With a pointed look at Darkpaw, he promised that the bully would stop picking on those weaker than him, and could Shrikepaw please calm down before someone really got hurt? She rounded on the peacemaker, flinging insults instead of claws, demanding to know how he could defend such a mean cat and declaring that his past moons of indifference coupled with this defense of him made Jaypaw just as bad as Thrushpaw. Then she stormed off.
Things changed after her outburst. On the Brightside, Darkpaw was leaving her brother alone and there were no repercussions for fighting because the apprentices involved seemed to have silently reached a collected agreement to not speak of the event to anyone. On the downside, they also weren’t really talking to her. Jaypaw wouldn’t even look at her. Only Badgerpaw really spoke with her anymore, but after him quietly saying he appreciated how much she cared for him, he reiterated that he’d been find and didn’t need the help. And also, she’d really hurt Jaypaw’s feelings and might want to apologize for what she’d said to him. Shrikepaw was telling the truth when she said she didn’t want to talk about it. For moons, nothing really changed, though the uneasy tension slowly dissipated into noticeably awkward silences.
Then, finally, it became too much.
When he proposed the hunting practice, Crookedclaw certainly hadn’t been expecting his fierce apprentice to fall apart on him as soon as he commented on how she looked tired and asked how she was doing. With a supportive silence, he listened as Shrikepaw explained everything – how she’d fought off the bully and yelled at her best friend and now he wasn’t speaking to her anymore but how could he be angry when he had just stood by and let Darkpaw pick on Badgerpaw? And she’d also realized during that fight that she had actually been learning from him, which meant that he did know something and she felt bad about how she’d treated him but didn’t know how to fix it and if he even still liked her and everything was just a mess and not going at all how it was supposed to.
Crookedclaw had been quiet for a little while as she waited tensely for his response before he finally asked if that was why she never seemed to like him – because he couldn’t answer all of her questions. When she said yes in a very small voice, he had nodded as if everything suddenly made sense. Then, without probing further into that train of thought, he asked how much she knew about Darkpaw's family. As it turned out, he knew a lot more than she did. Darkpaw's parents were unforgiving, he said, the type who believed that intimidation meant strength and respect came from fear. His mother, especially, was a brutal mentor who had no time or patience for weakness – TreeClan was too soft, she said – and he imagined that she would only be harder to impress as a mother. (When Shrikesong later asked how Crookedclaw was so familiar with the ways Darkpaw's mother taught, he’d simply given her a small smile and shaken his head. At her pitying expression, he reminded her that they could not change the past, only learn from it.) Imagine a young tom who wanted his parents’ approval and was driven to putting down others to try to earn it. Perhaps such a cat was not as deserving of her anger as he was her sympathy and compassion; after all, it was their love and loyalty to each other that made TreeClan warriors strong, not the number of unsheathed claws.
That night, a certain Darkpaw was very surprised to receive an unsolicited apology from a she-cat who still pointedly did not approve of his behavior but was sorry for attacking him all the same.
Life improved after that. Their conversation had been the turning point in hers and Crookedclaw’s relationship. As they grew closer and Shrikepaw truly gave him the second chance like she had promised Lionstar all those moons ago, she slowly realized how unfair she’d been. The minute she had decided that her mentor didn’t know anything, she had blinded herself to all of the evidence suggesting otherwise. He did know something – he knew quite a bit and was quite good at teaching it once he found his confidence, actually – but he’d been just as nervous and scared of messing up as she had. He was just like the rest of them: someone who made mistakes and wasn’t infallible and was simply trying his best. And that was okay, because he was a genuinely good cat with a kind heart and seemingly infinite patience, and in the end that was more important than anything else. After she finally worked up the courage to apologize to him, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
Jaypaw still wasn’t talking to her. She tried to pretend it didn’t bother her, but she was never good at lying. When she told Crookedclaw about him and how she couldn’t reconcile the cat she thought of as her best friend with the stranger who got angry at her for getting angry at him for not standing up to Darkpaw, her mentor mildly pointed out that maybe, like Darkpaw, her friend had his reasons for his actions. The cat she described from her time in the nursery did not sound like a cat who would stand aside for no good reason.
Much to her chagrin, her mentor was right. In a halting but much needed conversation, Jaypaw explained that when he’d noticed the way Badgerpaw was letting Darkpaw target him, he’d asked why and what could he do to stop it. Badgerpaw explained, with a wisdom beyond his years, that the bully’s words never bothered him and that he did not fight back, because if Darkpaw was focusing on him, then he wasn’t hurting anyone else. Having sharp words thrown at him was fine because Badgerpaw knew he could handle it, so he’d asked Jaypaw not to intervene – that was the only way he wouldn’t have come to her brother’s defense: why hadn’t she known that? She should have, Shrikepaw said, and that conversation had ended with an apology and a tentative promise to try to rebuild their friendship.
By the time her warrior ceremony rolled around, Shrikepaw had learned far more than she had expected to. Certainly her hunting skills were nothing to scoff at – and her fighting ability wasn’t too shabby either, though that was more from dogged determination than particular talent – but more importantly, she had learned the dangers of idolizing others, the value of standing in another cat’s pawsteps, and the importance of second chances. And though she would never stop standing up to the injustices she saw, she would at least try to listen and talk first, before she unsheathed her claws.
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried. The first week or so was painless. She picked up the basics easily and her dedication and worth ethic made up for what she lacked in natural ability. Lionstar knew what he was doing when it came to pairing mentors and apprentices – until he didn’t. Everything when downhill as the confident, perfect warrior who knew everything slowly fell away to reveal an insecure first-time mentor who wasn’t sure how to handle a determined young apprentice who demanded to know everything. (If she knew everything, then she didn’t have to worry about unpleasant surprises because she could prepare for them in advance.) Hers and Crookedclaw’s promising relationship started to deteriorate as she found herself growing increasingly frustrated with what he couldn’t do.
Badgerpaw was having difficulties of his own. As the youngest and smallest tom in the den, he often found himself the victim of the older toms’ harsh words. Jaypaw and Ashpaw, who had become apprentices a moon before them, never participated in the teasing, but they also never really stopped it either. Shrikepaw urged her brother to stand up for himself, especially against Darkpaw, who was the worst of the lot. Insisting that he was fine, Badgerpaw never did, so she stepped in and fought his battles for him, facing off against Darkpaw to try and spare her brother some pain. She was angry with Jaypaw and Ashpaw, too, for refusing to step up to try to stop the bullying. There was, after all, strength in numbers – plus she had expected better of them.
A moon passed and then another and the situation with Crookedclaw didn’t improve. She complained to her parents, and when they told her to take a deep breath and give him a chance – but she had given him a whole two moons, didn’t they understand? – she went and complained to Lionstar. She wanted a new mentor, one who could keep up with her and didn’t look like he would be knocked over by a stiff breeze. But Lionstar, who she was sure would understand because he was Lionstar, was as unhelpful as her parents. Talk with him, the leader urged. If Crookedclaw was doing something wrong, it wasn’t intentional. It never hurt to supplement her training by working with other warriors, but her mentor was a good cat, with more to teach than just hunting and fighting; she would be wise to learn from him – to give him a second chance. If she did – and gave him a real one – and it still didn’t work out, he promised, he would find someone else to teach her.
Shrikepaw tried, but old habits were hard to kill. They fell into their old routine of unimpressed apprentice and mentor who was trying his best. Frustration at feeling like she wasn’t learning anything and the fear of not being good enough combined with her growing irritation at Darkpaw's behavior and everyone’s unwillingness, especially Jaypaw’s, to do anything about it.
Everything came to a tipping point when she finally snapped and lashed out at Darkpaw. The fight was short but fierce (as it turned out, she actually had learned things under Crookedclaw’s uninspiring tutelage), and it ended when Jaypaw stepped in between them. With a pointed look at Darkpaw, he promised that the bully would stop picking on those weaker than him, and could Shrikepaw please calm down before someone really got hurt? She rounded on the peacemaker, flinging insults instead of claws, demanding to know how he could defend such a mean cat and declaring that his past moons of indifference coupled with this defense of him made Jaypaw just as bad as Thrushpaw. Then she stormed off.
Things changed after her outburst. On the Brightside, Darkpaw was leaving her brother alone and there were no repercussions for fighting because the apprentices involved seemed to have silently reached a collected agreement to not speak of the event to anyone. On the downside, they also weren’t really talking to her. Jaypaw wouldn’t even look at her. Only Badgerpaw really spoke with her anymore, but after him quietly saying he appreciated how much she cared for him, he reiterated that he’d been find and didn’t need the help. And also, she’d really hurt Jaypaw’s feelings and might want to apologize for what she’d said to him. Shrikepaw was telling the truth when she said she didn’t want to talk about it. For moons, nothing really changed, though the uneasy tension slowly dissipated into noticeably awkward silences.
Then, finally, it became too much.
When he proposed the hunting practice, Crookedclaw certainly hadn’t been expecting his fierce apprentice to fall apart on him as soon as he commented on how she looked tired and asked how she was doing. With a supportive silence, he listened as Shrikepaw explained everything – how she’d fought off the bully and yelled at her best friend and now he wasn’t speaking to her anymore but how could he be angry when he had just stood by and let Darkpaw pick on Badgerpaw? And she’d also realized during that fight that she had actually been learning from him, which meant that he did know something and she felt bad about how she’d treated him but didn’t know how to fix it and if he even still liked her and everything was just a mess and not going at all how it was supposed to.
Crookedclaw had been quiet for a little while as she waited tensely for his response before he finally asked if that was why she never seemed to like him – because he couldn’t answer all of her questions. When she said yes in a very small voice, he had nodded as if everything suddenly made sense. Then, without probing further into that train of thought, he asked how much she knew about Darkpaw's family. As it turned out, he knew a lot more than she did. Darkpaw's parents were unforgiving, he said, the type who believed that intimidation meant strength and respect came from fear. His mother, especially, was a brutal mentor who had no time or patience for weakness – TreeClan was too soft, she said – and he imagined that she would only be harder to impress as a mother. (When Shrikesong later asked how Crookedclaw was so familiar with the ways Darkpaw's mother taught, he’d simply given her a small smile and shaken his head. At her pitying expression, he reminded her that they could not change the past, only learn from it.) Imagine a young tom who wanted his parents’ approval and was driven to putting down others to try to earn it. Perhaps such a cat was not as deserving of her anger as he was her sympathy and compassion; after all, it was their love and loyalty to each other that made TreeClan warriors strong, not the number of unsheathed claws.
That night, a certain Darkpaw was very surprised to receive an unsolicited apology from a she-cat who still pointedly did not approve of his behavior but was sorry for attacking him all the same.
Life improved after that. Their conversation had been the turning point in hers and Crookedclaw’s relationship. As they grew closer and Shrikepaw truly gave him the second chance like she had promised Lionstar all those moons ago, she slowly realized how unfair she’d been. The minute she had decided that her mentor didn’t know anything, she had blinded herself to all of the evidence suggesting otherwise. He did know something – he knew quite a bit and was quite good at teaching it once he found his confidence, actually – but he’d been just as nervous and scared of messing up as she had. He was just like the rest of them: someone who made mistakes and wasn’t infallible and was simply trying his best. And that was okay, because he was a genuinely good cat with a kind heart and seemingly infinite patience, and in the end that was more important than anything else. After she finally worked up the courage to apologize to him, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
Jaypaw still wasn’t talking to her. She tried to pretend it didn’t bother her, but she was never good at lying. When she told Crookedclaw about him and how she couldn’t reconcile the cat she thought of as her best friend with the stranger who got angry at her for getting angry at him for not standing up to Darkpaw, her mentor mildly pointed out that maybe, like Darkpaw, her friend had his reasons for his actions. The cat she described from her time in the nursery did not sound like a cat who would stand aside for no good reason.
Much to her chagrin, her mentor was right. In a halting but much needed conversation, Jaypaw explained that when he’d noticed the way Badgerpaw was letting Darkpaw target him, he’d asked why and what could he do to stop it. Badgerpaw explained, with a wisdom beyond his years, that the bully’s words never bothered him and that he did not fight back, because if Darkpaw was focusing on him, then he wasn’t hurting anyone else. Having sharp words thrown at him was fine because Badgerpaw knew he could handle it, so he’d asked Jaypaw not to intervene – that was the only way he wouldn’t have come to her brother’s defense: why hadn’t she known that? She should have, Shrikepaw said, and that conversation had ended with an apology and a tentative promise to try to rebuild their friendship.
By the time her warrior ceremony rolled around, Shrikepaw had learned far more than she had expected to. Certainly her hunting skills were nothing to scoff at – and her fighting ability wasn’t too shabby either, though that was more from dogged determination than particular talent – but more importantly, she had learned the dangers of idolizing others, the value of standing in another cat’s pawsteps, and the importance of second chances. And though she would never stop standing up to the injustices she saw, she would at least try to listen and talk first, before she unsheathed her claws.
WARRIOR:
For a while, life was good, and Shrikesong was happy. Despite the messy experiences of the past few moons, the drama had been left behind in the apprentice’s den, for they were all eager to move on and prove themselves as TreeClan’s newest warriors. To her relief, the awkwardness of her original post-reconciliation conversations with Jayflight had faded to comfortable familiarity, and they were well on their way to being fast friends once again. Perhaps even more surprising was the reappearance of Darkpaw – now Darkscar – in her life. In the moons that they had more or less avoided each other, he had done some growing up and wanted some forgiveness of his own – specifically from Shrikesong and Badgerbite, who had both borne the brunt of his unpleasant attentions. At first, she hadn’t quite known what to think of him, but then she remembered how grateful she was to have received a second chance with Jayflight and decided to grant her own. They became very tentative acquaintances.
Though she didn’t know it at the time, Shrikesong’s decision to hunt along the NightClan border changed her life. The pleasant morning and successful hunt turned into a nightmare when she found herself on the receiving end of a fox’s greedy claws. In hindsight, the plump rabbit was not worth the trouble it brought, but with adrenaline racing through her veins, the young warrior chose fight instead of flight. Had a NightClan apprentice not intervened, then she would have died that day. The younger she-cat bravely attacked her assailant, and the two of them chased it off. After thanking her savior – Cloverpaw, she learned she was called – profusely and accepting some help back to camp, Shrikesong and the other cat parted ways. She watched as Cloverpaw left, dwarfed by a warrior on each side, and idly wondered if they would have been friends had they been born in the same clan. She had certainly seemed nice enough, not to mention that any cat who would rush to the aid of another couldn’t be too bad – even if they were from NightClan.
Much to her surprise, she was assigned her first apprentice shortly after, and when the sun set on that first day of training, she found herself seeking out Crookedclaw and apologizing once more for her younger self. Little Antpaw had the energy and tenacity of the animals for which she was named; Shrikesong could not help but see herself in the apprentice, which quite frankly was more intimidating than it was comforting. Though he had not been above chuckling at the irony, Crookedclaw had reassured her that she would be an exceptional mentor. He had watched her grow into a knowledgeable, patient, and kind young she-cat. While Shrikesong was concerned about a repeat of her own experiences as an apprentice, he knew that she had nothing to fear. When the dreaded rift between her and Antpaw never came to pass, Shrikesong admitted that once again, her old mentor knew what he was talking about.
And then, just like that, he was gone.
She hadn’t been there, but the aftermath of a Demon attack was never pretty. Crookedclaw had used his body to protect Jayflight’s brother and her childhood friend, Ashcloud, from the brunt of the attack, sparing him just enough so that the younger tom had managed to flee. But he didn’t make it far. When he finished with Crookedclaw, the lynx tracked down the injured warrior and finished him too. Their deaths rocked Shrikesong’s world. They were so senseless. Crookedclaw and Ashcloud had both been good cats who deserved better – it was here that she learned first-hand just how unfair life could be – and she wanted to rage and cry and scream at the injustice. But she didn’t. A dutiful warrior and steadfast friend, she gathered up the broken pieces of her heart and spent the long days training Antpaw and comforting Jayflight for the unexpected loss of his brother. Crookedclaw and Ashcloud. She felt their absences like a missing limb.
Perhaps that was why, when she and Clovermask ran into each other again, she let the wariness of neighbors turn so easily into the familiarity of friends. The NightClan warrior had greeted her with an eager affection, and though she had initially been cautious, Shrikesong found her guard falling the longer and more often they talked. At Gatherings, at the border, they planted and nurtured the seeds of a friendship. Shrikesong saw a younger she-cat with no one to turn to for support and her heart latched on. She had been unable to help Crookedclaw and Ashcloud when they needed her most, but she could still be there for Clovermask; she would do for her new friend what she couldn’t do for her old ones. As she had with Antpaw (now Antstep), she offered advice and understanding, trusting that while the other she-cat was different, she still had a good heart. The circumstances of her youth garnered her great sympathy, but the NightClan warrior’s success at overcoming them earned her even more admiration. They became closer than they should have, the two of them, but blinded by her heart, Shrikesong did not see the warning signs until after Clovermask had already become a cherished friend.
Still, it was partly the result of the friendship that her heart had healed enough for her to be a shoulder to cry on for Darkscar when he lost his beloved mentor. Over the past few moons, their tentative relationship had started developing into a true friendship, but it was only when he turned to her – she had so recently lost her own mentor, after all – for comfort that the transformation fully took root. Shrikesong, who had never been one to stand by while another was in pain, tossed aside the last of her reservations toward the former bully. Like Clovermask, he had been a good cat caught in bad situations, and as he matured, he had changed and worked hard to make amends. When the grief faded, their newly forged friendship remained.
Moons passed. Shrikesong nurtured her many friendships, working to find time in between warrior duties to spend with Badgerbite, Jayflight, Darkscar, Antstep, and Clovermask. It was her favorite kind of balancing act – and, if she started spending more time with Darkscar, well, who could blame her? Somewhere along the line, the troubled young apprentice had grown into a thoughtful, dependable warrior (who wasn’t too hard on the eyes either). Much to Badgerbite’s and Jayflight’s amusement, her heart had begun to sprout wings and flutter every time he was around. Did he feel the same? She wasn’t sure, and she was too scared to ask. They danced around each other like nervous apprentices until finally she spoke up – and then, well, that was that: TreeClan had their newest couple.
Though she had every intention of doing so, Shrikesong never ended up telling Clovermask about this newest development. What exactly kept her lips shut, she didn’t quite know, but it never felt like the right time. Perhaps it was because of the generations of mistrust between their clans. Perhaps it was because part of her likened Clovermask to her charge and mother’s didn’t really tell their daughters about these things. Or perhaps it was simply because she subconsciously expected – no, knew – that Clovermask would never and could never understand matters of the heart.
Regardless of the reasoning behind it, that ignorance resulted in a nasty surprise for both she-cats when Clovermask abruptly told Shrikesong that she should leave TreeClan for NightClan. But she was expecting kits, Shrikesong protested. Even better, Clovermask said, before quickly launching into an elaborate story about the kits being of loner blood. The TreeClan warrior herself only stared at her friend in stunned silence. No, she had corrected slowly, utterly bewildered. The kits belong to her mate, a full-blooded warrior of TreeClan – and here she finally elaborated on her relationship with Darkscar.
The NightClan warrior immediately withdrew, and Shrikesong felt her distance like a claw to the chest. She felt bad – she knew Clovermask had no one else in her life – and wished that she hadn’t withheld the knowledge about her mate. She should have told her friend about him from the beginning and made sure to reassure her that she was still important to her. Darkscar thought she was wasting her energy worrying about a she-cat who wouldn’t do the same for her, but Shrikesong argued that he didn’t know Clovermask like she did. The other she-cat was lonely and didn’t have many friends, so she was likely insecure about being replaced – not to mention it was entirely understandable to be put out upon learning that an old, trsuted friend had been keeping something as big as finding a mate secret. Admittedly, she didn’t have as nearly a good explanation for the surprising invitation to join NightClan, but she didn’t like lingering on that memory. It would just be another oddity about Clovermask that she was willing to brush aside because she didn’t want to dig too deep into something that likely stemmed from the same abandonment issues as everything else.
A little hurt by the abrupt loss of contact, she gave Clovermask her space, but guilt and concern inevitably drove her back to the NightClan border. This time, when the two she-cats crossed paths, they were not along; Darkscar had been unwilling to let his mate meet with the other warrior by herself, just in case. His instincts proved to be spot on. Much to Shrikesong’s horror, Clovermask launched herself at him and was deaf to any of the TreeClan she-cat’s attempts to get her to stop. Only when Shrikesong was forced to lash out in return, striking her friend on the shoulder, did the other she-cat stop. Utterly stunned and betrayed, Shrikesong demanded to know why Clovermask had done that, but the other warrior only disappeared back into her territory.
The cuts on Darkscar were, thankfully, superficial, but the wounds that the attack left on Shrikesong’s heart did not heal so easily. She had always known Clovermask was different than her – ice to her fire – but never had she thought violence would enter into their relationship.
As time passed, the sting of the betrayal faded into memory; Shrikesong had more important matters to attend to: namely the birth of her two kits. The tiny kittens were her pride and joy, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them. With Darkscar by her side, she worked to give them the best upbringing she could, balancing her desire to spoil them with the responsibility of shaping them into good cats. When she thought of what she wanted to give them, she finally understood the lesson that her own parents had instilled in her when she was young: she, too, wanted to leave the world a better place for her offspring.
Despite Shrikesong’s happiness, Clovermask was never far from her thoughts. If she couldn’t trust the she-cat around her mate, then there was no way she would trust her around her children. When they were kittens protected by the relative safety of TreeClan’s camp and the nursery, the shade of her former friend felt like a distant threat, but as soon as they received their apprentice names, her vague worry crystallized into a sharpened fear. It had been seasons since she had last heard from Clovermask, but a slowly coiling dread in her stomach suggest that the NightClan warrior was up to something. An attack on her mate accompanied the end of such a silence last time. Shrikesong would not let this one end with the blood of her kits on Clovermask’s claws as well.
Though she didn’t know it at the time, Shrikesong’s decision to hunt along the NightClan border changed her life. The pleasant morning and successful hunt turned into a nightmare when she found herself on the receiving end of a fox’s greedy claws. In hindsight, the plump rabbit was not worth the trouble it brought, but with adrenaline racing through her veins, the young warrior chose fight instead of flight. Had a NightClan apprentice not intervened, then she would have died that day. The younger she-cat bravely attacked her assailant, and the two of them chased it off. After thanking her savior – Cloverpaw, she learned she was called – profusely and accepting some help back to camp, Shrikesong and the other cat parted ways. She watched as Cloverpaw left, dwarfed by a warrior on each side, and idly wondered if they would have been friends had they been born in the same clan. She had certainly seemed nice enough, not to mention that any cat who would rush to the aid of another couldn’t be too bad – even if they were from NightClan.
Much to her surprise, she was assigned her first apprentice shortly after, and when the sun set on that first day of training, she found herself seeking out Crookedclaw and apologizing once more for her younger self. Little Antpaw had the energy and tenacity of the animals for which she was named; Shrikesong could not help but see herself in the apprentice, which quite frankly was more intimidating than it was comforting. Though he had not been above chuckling at the irony, Crookedclaw had reassured her that she would be an exceptional mentor. He had watched her grow into a knowledgeable, patient, and kind young she-cat. While Shrikesong was concerned about a repeat of her own experiences as an apprentice, he knew that she had nothing to fear. When the dreaded rift between her and Antpaw never came to pass, Shrikesong admitted that once again, her old mentor knew what he was talking about.
And then, just like that, he was gone.
She hadn’t been there, but the aftermath of a Demon attack was never pretty. Crookedclaw had used his body to protect Jayflight’s brother and her childhood friend, Ashcloud, from the brunt of the attack, sparing him just enough so that the younger tom had managed to flee. But he didn’t make it far. When he finished with Crookedclaw, the lynx tracked down the injured warrior and finished him too. Their deaths rocked Shrikesong’s world. They were so senseless. Crookedclaw and Ashcloud had both been good cats who deserved better – it was here that she learned first-hand just how unfair life could be – and she wanted to rage and cry and scream at the injustice. But she didn’t. A dutiful warrior and steadfast friend, she gathered up the broken pieces of her heart and spent the long days training Antpaw and comforting Jayflight for the unexpected loss of his brother. Crookedclaw and Ashcloud. She felt their absences like a missing limb.
Perhaps that was why, when she and Clovermask ran into each other again, she let the wariness of neighbors turn so easily into the familiarity of friends. The NightClan warrior had greeted her with an eager affection, and though she had initially been cautious, Shrikesong found her guard falling the longer and more often they talked. At Gatherings, at the border, they planted and nurtured the seeds of a friendship. Shrikesong saw a younger she-cat with no one to turn to for support and her heart latched on. She had been unable to help Crookedclaw and Ashcloud when they needed her most, but she could still be there for Clovermask; she would do for her new friend what she couldn’t do for her old ones. As she had with Antpaw (now Antstep), she offered advice and understanding, trusting that while the other she-cat was different, she still had a good heart. The circumstances of her youth garnered her great sympathy, but the NightClan warrior’s success at overcoming them earned her even more admiration. They became closer than they should have, the two of them, but blinded by her heart, Shrikesong did not see the warning signs until after Clovermask had already become a cherished friend.
Still, it was partly the result of the friendship that her heart had healed enough for her to be a shoulder to cry on for Darkscar when he lost his beloved mentor. Over the past few moons, their tentative relationship had started developing into a true friendship, but it was only when he turned to her – she had so recently lost her own mentor, after all – for comfort that the transformation fully took root. Shrikesong, who had never been one to stand by while another was in pain, tossed aside the last of her reservations toward the former bully. Like Clovermask, he had been a good cat caught in bad situations, and as he matured, he had changed and worked hard to make amends. When the grief faded, their newly forged friendship remained.
Moons passed. Shrikesong nurtured her many friendships, working to find time in between warrior duties to spend with Badgerbite, Jayflight, Darkscar, Antstep, and Clovermask. It was her favorite kind of balancing act – and, if she started spending more time with Darkscar, well, who could blame her? Somewhere along the line, the troubled young apprentice had grown into a thoughtful, dependable warrior (who wasn’t too hard on the eyes either). Much to Badgerbite’s and Jayflight’s amusement, her heart had begun to sprout wings and flutter every time he was around. Did he feel the same? She wasn’t sure, and she was too scared to ask. They danced around each other like nervous apprentices until finally she spoke up – and then, well, that was that: TreeClan had their newest couple.
Though she had every intention of doing so, Shrikesong never ended up telling Clovermask about this newest development. What exactly kept her lips shut, she didn’t quite know, but it never felt like the right time. Perhaps it was because of the generations of mistrust between their clans. Perhaps it was because part of her likened Clovermask to her charge and mother’s didn’t really tell their daughters about these things. Or perhaps it was simply because she subconsciously expected – no, knew – that Clovermask would never and could never understand matters of the heart.
Regardless of the reasoning behind it, that ignorance resulted in a nasty surprise for both she-cats when Clovermask abruptly told Shrikesong that she should leave TreeClan for NightClan. But she was expecting kits, Shrikesong protested. Even better, Clovermask said, before quickly launching into an elaborate story about the kits being of loner blood. The TreeClan warrior herself only stared at her friend in stunned silence. No, she had corrected slowly, utterly bewildered. The kits belong to her mate, a full-blooded warrior of TreeClan – and here she finally elaborated on her relationship with Darkscar.
The NightClan warrior immediately withdrew, and Shrikesong felt her distance like a claw to the chest. She felt bad – she knew Clovermask had no one else in her life – and wished that she hadn’t withheld the knowledge about her mate. She should have told her friend about him from the beginning and made sure to reassure her that she was still important to her. Darkscar thought she was wasting her energy worrying about a she-cat who wouldn’t do the same for her, but Shrikesong argued that he didn’t know Clovermask like she did. The other she-cat was lonely and didn’t have many friends, so she was likely insecure about being replaced – not to mention it was entirely understandable to be put out upon learning that an old, trsuted friend had been keeping something as big as finding a mate secret. Admittedly, she didn’t have as nearly a good explanation for the surprising invitation to join NightClan, but she didn’t like lingering on that memory. It would just be another oddity about Clovermask that she was willing to brush aside because she didn’t want to dig too deep into something that likely stemmed from the same abandonment issues as everything else.
A little hurt by the abrupt loss of contact, she gave Clovermask her space, but guilt and concern inevitably drove her back to the NightClan border. This time, when the two she-cats crossed paths, they were not along; Darkscar had been unwilling to let his mate meet with the other warrior by herself, just in case. His instincts proved to be spot on. Much to Shrikesong’s horror, Clovermask launched herself at him and was deaf to any of the TreeClan she-cat’s attempts to get her to stop. Only when Shrikesong was forced to lash out in return, striking her friend on the shoulder, did the other she-cat stop. Utterly stunned and betrayed, Shrikesong demanded to know why Clovermask had done that, but the other warrior only disappeared back into her territory.
The cuts on Darkscar were, thankfully, superficial, but the wounds that the attack left on Shrikesong’s heart did not heal so easily. She had always known Clovermask was different than her – ice to her fire – but never had she thought violence would enter into their relationship.
As time passed, the sting of the betrayal faded into memory; Shrikesong had more important matters to attend to: namely the birth of her two kits. The tiny kittens were her pride and joy, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them. With Darkscar by her side, she worked to give them the best upbringing she could, balancing her desire to spoil them with the responsibility of shaping them into good cats. When she thought of what she wanted to give them, she finally understood the lesson that her own parents had instilled in her when she was young: she, too, wanted to leave the world a better place for her offspring.
Despite Shrikesong’s happiness, Clovermask was never far from her thoughts. If she couldn’t trust the she-cat around her mate, then there was no way she would trust her around her children. When they were kittens protected by the relative safety of TreeClan’s camp and the nursery, the shade of her former friend felt like a distant threat, but as soon as they received their apprentice names, her vague worry crystallized into a sharpened fear. It had been seasons since she had last heard from Clovermask, but a slowly coiling dread in her stomach suggest that the NightClan warrior was up to something. An attack on her mate accompanied the end of such a silence last time. Shrikesong would not let this one end with the blood of her kits on Clovermask’s claws as well.