Post by Tigerstorm on Feb 23, 2013 17:37:11 GMT -5
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AMBITIOUS -
In a short, blunt statement, Tigerstorm can easily be described as an ambitious cat. Not exactly one that will use dark means to get to it but one that is perfectly capable of setting aside some of the Warrior code to get what she desire most which is almost always something to do with power of any nature. Working perhaps even a little too hard to become top dog, most say it's why she was not chosen for deputy up until this point ; her sharp tongue and claws certainly needed more aging prior to being given such an honor.
LOYALTY -
While Tigerstorm seems to have no issues with acquiring a friend or two from a different clan, these are typically more pawn material than anything she has a real allegiance with. Though her loyalty to other clans' cats is not admirable, her loyalty and how greatly it belongs to her clan most certainly is. With an objective of one day leading her fellows as head of Riverclan, she sees no grand outlook in making friends with other clan cats since one day not too far off in the past, it's not unlikely that they'd meet in war with claws entangled rather than pleasant mews. In the end, doing what is best for her own clan is always top priority in her book even if it requires the bending of a few rules.
BOLD
Some could call it a positive trait, others a negative. But the she cat refuses to admit that she does anything bold in bad judgment and rather does only what she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt she can do ; a statement that is difficult to say when she once bit a twoleg kit on the ankle when it drew too close to camp. Though she's always first to lead dangerous scouting trips and have everyone come back alive, it's not uncommon for her to make off decision that are only fortunate to have good outcomes. Whether it be excellent foresight or just unbelievable strokes of luck, being so borderline reckless has mostly failed to cause long lasting troubles.
INTELLIGENCE -
In some ways, she is a pioneer of new ideas and new tactics, in others a clear case of curiosity killed the cat. From inspecting the old thunderpath as a kit and to investigating the caverns in adulthood, she not only runs into trouble but observes it closely making for not only fine stories to tell but also learning experiences that have made her all the wiser. As such, many cats of Riverclan won't show much hesitation when wondering about something foreign and even occasionally outside of territory knowledge.
CARING -
Granted it's a side only shown to those that are deemed a care worthy cause, it's a side of her that it rarely shown and can be seen very rarely. Affectionate to those that need it and those that may seem hurt or down and out, she's one to take on another cat's entire set of responsibilities just because they're in the medicine cat's den for a few moons. Though most outer clan cats would not be able to guess that she'd be one to keep another clanmate warm in leaf bare with an ever growing ginger coat.
OVER PROTECTIVE -
There is a distinct line between protective and over protective, and Tigerstorm doesn't fail to cross it more often than she should regarding cats she cares dearly for or her clan being in a scenario that provides immediate threats. With a muscular body and claws thick enough to strip bark from oaks, she's more than willing to charge head first into a dangerous scene if an ally is in a fix or her clan is placed under fire. An aspect that has lead to lives being saved at times, but more than often her body acquiring more scars than necessary.
LOW TOLERANCE -
Even if no one could describe Tigerstorm as the most impatient creature to ever strike the forest, her tolerance is strikingly low for cats that refuse to do what she will typically self deem a correct decision. Older apprentices and full grown warriors are no exceptions to her legendary wrath if they fail to check even one hunting spot while prey is low or don't tend to the elders when it's time ; Starclan forbid whine about it. At least one cat a season makes an absurd enough decision that she decides to privately unsheathe her claws.
LACK OF MORALS -
Though she disguises it as wise judgment or buries it all together, her morals typically lack where it's important. Having murdered more than one cat at certain points in time for less than admirable reasons, between her good deeds and bad it's difficult to say whether or not her lacking conscience has assisted her in life or dragged her through the mud. Less importantly, if all knew her actions behind closed doors it'd be hard to say just where she would end up upon death.
BLASPHEMOUS -
Struggle, loss and this harsher than reality leaf bare makes it difficult to believe Starclan doesn't just have it out for them. Though she doesn't disbelieve in them in the slightest, she doesn't believe that they are the epitome of saviors either. Perhaps for Thunderclan or for the ever religious Windclan they are but she refuses to do much but spit in the face of their starry ancestors by acting as she will and in her eyes defying the deadly future the deceased plan for them. If it were not for the nine lives blessed on leaders, she might have delved into a feline mannered atheism moons ago.
AGGRESSIVE -
For all good manners she is capable of, foul behavior is always at the ready to sour her reputation. Almost eager to sink or dig claws and fangs into an opponent, she seems to act on her angers justly but over does her punishments considerably in the process.
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Many could argue whether or not the pale brown she cat Sandpelt and deep ginger tom Foxtail loved each other when Reedkit was born. The kitten seemed to of been brought out of the season of lust and nothing more, a one night stand as far as cats went, but a female never quite friends with hard work was ever eager to spend a good few moons in the warmth of the Riverclan nursery. Most would relay the happening of Foxtail and Sandpelt's mate ship as an old tom that was just too tired to disagree with much and a she cat that would have best been suited for kittypet life with just how greatly she wished to be waited upon.
Son of a very peaceful tom and very selfish lass, every cat was pleasantly shocked to see Reedkit develop into the noble ginger tom known as Reedheart that was seemingly destined for greatness. Wise soul, it was almost as if Starclan had kissed his thick pelt with divinity far beyond his moons and a peaceful aura that could calm even the rowdiest crowd. With a proud clan and an even more proud set of parents, it wasn't wrong for Sandpelt to want to try for kits once more. Nor was it wrong for Foxtail to give into her hounding, as he could not of had much clue regarding the intentions of his so called mate.
Sandpelt was once again joyous to spend some of her last moons out of the elders den as she gave birth to a litter of two healthy kittens. Though Sandpelt had relayed quite the hissing fit to the medicine cat after her new kin was licked clean from bloody fluid, enough so that she had attracted a good half the clan to her birthing as snarls were aimed at their good meaning seer and medicine man. No one would think any queen would have problems with two healthy bundles of fur in a season were prey was bountiful and weather beautiful, but there the she cat laid with one kitten held close to a warm belly and the other quite unnaturally rejected. A tom she endearingly dubbed Featherkit with his downy, dark brown tabby fur the shade of a hawk's feather, nursed innocently while an unnamed she cat laid mewling in hunger beside it's mother. Was it sick, some chimed, was it deformed, other chirped, but Sandpelt's only complaint was the following ; it was no tom.
The logic of the borderline elderly feline came from the fact that her successful son was no daughter and she wanted more successors like he ; not daughters that might only ruin their chances or slow her newest son down. Yet all she managed from that point on was to gain the disgust of her eldest son and Foxtail. Reedheart was the one to wriggled into the warm nursery which housed such a cold heart and convince her with sly, carefully chosen words to nurse his newborn sister to the relief of medicine cat, father and clanmates all around who thought the mother the most absurd they observed in the creation of their clan. Even so, that night ended with both kittens fed and a chance for survival for both ; all they could wish for from this odd queen.
Disguised as endearing visits to a darling mother, Reedheart continued to ensure that both his new brother and sister stayed well fed and unharmed. Even as ears perked up from the folds they were stuck in and eyes opened, the growing warrior continued his visits while Foxtail took his residence in the elder's den soon after naming his new daughter Tigerkit. But as it turned out Sandpelt was far from the fool many others painted her as, and allowed Reedheart to pay special mind to his sister in worry that she'd be left behind in the wake of Featherkit. For someone with paws as full as her eldest boy could not of hoped to notice her mental poisoning of her new tom.
As moons passed, the kittens became more capable of standing on their own four legs and scampering about in the nursery and even outside, observing their clanmates and the latest apprentices doing duties that they envied at the moment. Even Reedheart began to relax his presence around the youngsters and never quite witnessed Sandpelt's sweet words to Featherkit, whispering to him whenever possible that it was grand to be great and kept him away from his sibling as if she were the plague. It was only natural for such an impressionable young tabby to even begin treating her like a cat with white cough towards the end of their last moon in the nursery. Yet Tigerkit took nothing her littermate did to heart yet, far too occupied observing the apprentices and elder warriors of Riverclan. Even taking small wonders to the shallowest edges of the river in the middle of the night.
APPRENTICEHOOD[/size]
It was not long in reality but seemed to be ages in the eyes of two eager kittens waiting for the new suffix. And the day came one fine morning with Tigerkit and Featherkit well groomed at the fore front of everyone's attention. In the announcement it was deemed that Featherkit became Featherpaw with the fairly young tom Snowface as a mentor and Tigerpaw would be given an older warrior to teach her the ways of the warrior, a tom named Dappleback was given the responsibility of mentor.
Placed into the apprentice dens, Featherpaw missed the safety of the nursery more so than his sister who clearly enjoyed the new freedom, even the most tasking of responsibilities were done with excitement on her behalf. Fortunately for Tigerpaw, her mother's lack of attention to her but over pleasing of Featherpaw had succeeded in little more than giving her daughter a healthy case of independence and Featherpaw accustomed to her babying. However, it only took a few hisses from his now elder's den bound mother to force himself to grow nearly as independent as his littermate, eagerly trying to best his fellows in all tasks done.
While majority of Featherpaw's stunts to gain attention just caused snorts and giggles, Snowface was steadily succeeding in making the tom viciously strong. Teaching mostly offensive moves, for once but not the last time it place him under Tigerpaw's envious eyes. For it was not that her teachings were worse, but it was that they were not as exciting. The grey tom with a tortoiseshell pattern upon his back taught her more so the ways of strategy and not to attack in such an offensive manner as Snowface taught. And even if moons passed and their teachings continued, Tigerpaw could not help but notice her brother appearing to walk much taller and appear far more muscular than herself who was filling with knowledge that went unappreciated.
As Dappleback and his apprentice grew ever closer and secrets were shared, when he felt she was plenty ready battling moves were taught and even when pitted against other apprentices in play fights, a mixture of strategy and claw work won her battles. But her sensation of being undermined by Featherpaw continued, only to be worsened not too many moons in the future.
Quite ready and even expecting any day to become full warriors, an ever distant duo was called forth one evening to join a squabble with Windclan over an ancient but ever problematic accusation of Riverclan stealing their rabbits in a drought. A false claim, in Tigerpaw's eyes, for it wasn't their fault that some of those fluffy beasts ran their way into Riverclan territory, but she trotted along with pride as other warriors joined to no doubt meet an awaiting group of Windclan warriors. The distance ever longer with blood rushing through her ears, to her knowledge this was most likely the task that would earn them their warrior names, and joy was suppressed as little words were exchanged before both groups were locked in combat.
Slashing and flailing in the fray, Tigerpaw was pulling her part in the scramble before suddenly in the haze she felt sharp fangs and claws rake at her front leg and tear away before she could catch but a glimpse of her assailant's brown fur. Afterwards, a limp hindered her step and a warrior assisted a very reluctant tabby to the side lines, insisting she would be of no use to her clan dead or injured ever worse. Though sitting out had it's own advantages, she found, being able to sit and watch even the Windclan specific battle moves and was also capable of seeing her clan walk away victorious with the moor accustomed felines retreating after a well fought match. Yet, in the fray and as they all padded back to their own respective camp, she noted a clear tuft of ginger fur in her own sibling's claws despite the lack of any orange feline being present in their neighbor's ranks.
Fighting suspicions, she and two others went to the medicine cat's den to have their wounds mended, Tigerpaw ordered to stay within the den for at least a few more days along with another she-cat named Webtail whom sustained far greater injuries.
However, no gash in her shoulder could match the pain met by having to watch her perhaps even treacherous brother commended for his bravery in the skirmish and be dubbed Featherclaw. But in fear of just seeming like a jealous kit, her tongue was held and she instead took her time to recover in the medicine cat's den with Webtail to keep her company.
It was less than even half a moon before she was back up and running, though with a scar to remind her of the silence she would come to regret in the future. But luckily, in the same moon the leader decided that not only could the apprentice den house an ever growing Maine Coon cat but it was certainly time. Only a week after her swift recovery and numerous victorious hunts, she was summoned to the front of the clan to receive the name of Tigerstorm ; a name that would most certainly fit a cat with a tempest personality and the unstoppable force that would prove to be her in the following seasons to come.
WARRIORHOOD - FIRST YEAR[/size]
Admittedly, the set back, albeit minor, from her warrior name certainly took it's toll on the young she cat. It was not only her delay but the reflection of her patch of missing fur in the reflection of the river and lake that had altered something and made her stay far from her littermate who was a charismatic cat amongst his mates but still was also an eager one to fight. The first to speak up at Gatherings to claim that Shadowclan or Windclan was trying to steal prey or take territory, making bigger fusses of small matters than need be but also feeding the minds of more blood lusting companions. And with not only his fellows cheering on his ludicrous actions, Sandpelt seemed to purr with pride upon hearing her son's exploits.
Meanwhile it seemed that Tigerstorm focused more so upon more training and observing her brother's wrongful ways that Reedheart, Foxtail, Dappleback and even Snowface on occasion disagreed heartily with. However, very little could stop his absurdity and Tigerstorm preformed as ordered. It was not until leafbare struck the forest that suspicions were confirmed and action was set to be taken.
In the heart of winter's icy grip, trees stripped of all of their leaves, it seemed a horrible season of greencough was striking their clan along with others. Though Riverclan was not struck the hardest, it did take two casualties by it's end ; a senior warrior by the name of Bluesplash and the elderly Sandpelt whom very little were saddened to see go. A former queen that always seemed to snap at kits and apprentices begging for tales of her younger days, only Featherclaw and an ever respectful Reedheart seemed to mourn deeply, Tigerstorm mourning far more for Bluesplash whom was usually a cat on morning patrols and vague friend. Though most cats placed no blame upon her for lack of concern, it made Featherclaw's terms with his sibling no better ; if it had a chance of worsening, that was.
With Sandpelt gone, a constant instigator in Featherclaw's aggressive attitude towards life itself it seemed, Foxtail observed life in his clan quietly in order to watch for at least a moon how little the brown tom altered. And with a cat so dangerous capturing carious hearts and pulling wool so conveniently other the eyes of those who didn't want to see all that was clearly in front of them, one night it was ever obvious that the matter needed handling. And whilst all the snoozed pleasantly in their respective dens, Tigerstorm was brought in secret to the edges of the lake by her sparsely active, ever aging father.
In the silence of early spring, he spoke of a conspiracy that his former mate had been feeding Featherclaw for moons upon moons ; a tale that he was destined to be grand. A prophecy of Starclan foretelling it, so she painted it, even though it took no genius of a cat to know that it was incredibly rare for their celestial ancestors to visit just average cats with dreams of the future. And if it were to come to any warrior, neither father nor daughter could fathom it coming to such a self centered queen who's goal in life seemed to forever be to leave a paw print upon her clan. The issue with the matter at hand though was urgent, seeing as Featherclaw was instructed to take his matters of his destiny with the most serious of attitudes and via any means necessary.
It was sheer luck that the false prophecy was relayed to Tigerstorm that night, as only two days later one of the oldest tomcats in Riverclan passed away in his sleep. For once, it was Reedheart and Tigerstorm mourning over a parent's body with their brother absent, evidently of favoring his father just as his sister did their mother.
The death of their father seemed to strike Reedheart the worse, sending the warrior into a slight depression as Tigerstorm seemed to take a different method of coping with the loss. Through her own sorrow, the she cat that once laid beside her in the medicine den, the black and white Webtail, now laid beside her in the warriors' den. The none too older she cat taking up grooming duties of her companion and often the one to get the ginger beast on her paws when something was not to be done.
Walks alongside the river with the smaller feline and eventually making her own sleeping spot big enough for two, it seemed that not only had she found a mate but the process had made her forsake more than just Foxtail's timely death.
For at the end of the year, gentle purrs exchanged between the two she cats were interrupted by a young apprentice's screeching ; the deceased body of the Riverclan deputy lay dead by the river, throat gauged and mouth agape in horror.
WARRIORHOOD - SECOND YEAR[/size]
It was determined that the former deputy passed from what was most likely a rogue, seeing as the clans had been at peace for many moons now. All the same, it was decided to send out extra patrols to check for foreign scents and double their scent markings to make it perfectly clear just who's territory they were about to cross. Yet, there was a definite air of mystery around the death of the old deputy, and one that didn't fall short of a few cats' eyes.
The idea that Featherclaw potentially murdered their deputy wasn't assisted by the fact that upon his death, Featherclaw was deemed capable of filling the position and gladly accepted. Which was certainly no crime and with the tom in such good relations with the Riverclan leader, Tigerstorm was wise to refrain from bringing up unproven theories and stir up the clan further after every cat was still shocked by the death of their fellow. But even so, it seemed that every other cat besides herself could forget of the suspicious death before she was able to even sleep peacefully with the potential toxic reign of her brother being held over her head.
Even so, sleep came eventually as most things did and by the point she was beginning to feel fully rested, a new batch of kits were of age to begin receiving their apprentice names. And with Featherclaw of already received an apprentice moons ago, it was by his good word that Tigerstorm took one of two apprentices that was now known as Nightpaw ; a small, black tom that was ever eager to learn the trades of his elders.
However, before she had the chance to speak much with her new underling, Featherclaw called the ginger tabby away for just a moment with a friendly wave of his bushy tail. For perhaps the first time since they were mere kits, her brother gave a lick to both her ear and scarred shoulder and an earnest apology for their own little competition that needed to end long ago. The apprentice was, in a way, hopes that she would take him as a token of apology. It was only unfortunate that Tigerstorm did not take their chat to heart or kindly for that matter.
Hissing to her sibling that the only reason he was deputy now was because he played a younger Reedheart to the clan and was a male just as their eldest brother was, though for now seemed far more loyal than their eldest littermate who seemed too preoccupied with out of camp matters lately to be considered as potential future leader. Not only did he only have to credit his position to his sex and persona, but she whispered into her brother's ear that she knew plenty of what he did to their former deputy. All prior to trotting off and leaving a cross tomcat behind her.
Though that was the last time they spoke outside of strictly clan related matters in quite awhile, it was not as if Tigerstorm wasn't busy with her duties as well as the ever growing bundle of black fur that seemed insistent on tracing her paw steps from sun up, to sun down. In the process of training her apprentice, most would say this was when she developed her severe case of personality ; an infectious case of investigating apprentice never did seem to leave the enormous Maine Coon.
Exploring the Caverns for dangers, Nightpaw swiftly adopted his mentor's bold nature and was taught just how to be cautious over plenty of time in his young days. At the end of it all, Tigerstorm produced quite the warrior the leader named Nightsplash one lovely evening. But in true clan fashion, one good event only foreshadowed terrible news for the future.
One early morning, the clan was awoken once more with wretched news of death delivered by Featherclaw, though this was far more personal than the last. At the border of Shadowclan territory laid the body of Reedheart, beside him a cat most only recognized as a she-cat whom usually sat awfully close to Reedheart during Gatherings. And even through the death scent clinging to her fur, her smell was distinct as something that occasionally upon her eldest brother's person after a long night out. Cedarpool as she was called revealed unintentionally just what the two of them were doing so far from camp a few times a moon ; a barely bulging stomach that was ripped open by claw let each cat present see tiny, unborn kits spilled unto the stained field.
The cats present ; Featherclaw, leader, Tigerstorm and Dappleback allowed their deputy to venture into Shadowclan territory and return with a gaggle of Shadowclan warriors to review the corpse of their own clanmate beside the Riverclan tom. As many could imagine, half of the Shadowclan patrol hissed in blame of their neighbors but the set that could have easily became violent was calmed by persuasive, deactivating mews as well as the death of both cats who had broken the Warrior code in the name of love. Love, but a breed of love that most frowned upon. All but Tigerstorm, as she assisted Dappleback in carrying back their stiff companion.
Love was most certainly love, it seemed, even if it was in the warrior code that it was wrong. And though she suspected Featherclaw of the duo's death, his scent was most certainly not on the bloody bodies, she observed that their death was most likely the result of some feline being displeased with their taboo. If it was not frowned upon so greatly, perhaps Reedheart and Cedarpool both would've still been amongst the living..
Returning to camp to preform vigil with Featherclaw and Reedheart's former, now elder mentor who even lent a paw in the burial of his old student. But even with body safely under the dirt to take it's place in the circle of life, as Tigerstorm laid against the furry body of her mate, her mind swirled with the idea of her own littermate murdering not only their eldest sibling but also his mate. Did he think it all just..? Or perhaps he was just ridding himself of competition. Whatever the reason, the she-cat humbly took it upon herself to rid them all of their cold blooded companion.
It was at the end of year two that catastrophe thrust itself like a wrench into her own plans.
WARRIORHOOD - THIRD YEAR[/size]
At the first gathering of the new year, Shadowclan was undoubtedly the ones with the biggest news. In regards to the death of Cedarpool, they believed they had finally found the cat which caused both clans such great grief. Expecting a lashing out towards Riverclan, Tigerstorm and every other cat was shocked to hear they had a prisoner ; a tabby rogue lurking about borders.
They had gotten little out of the young cat, only that he was scouting for a new territory for his group and had indeed killed a pregnant she-cat on his last visit. Also mentioning that there had been a scout before him that killed a cat near a river, the matter of just what to do suddenly became serious.
The foreigners would surely come looking for their buddy, and they hardly needed intruders, Shadowclan and Riverclan seeming most at threat. As it was, they took charge of deciding what was to be done, and chose to send out their own mixed member patrol to go find, and preferably destroy their rivals in land other than their own.
Not even a moon into the future, cats were chosen from Riverclan ; Featherclaw, Tigerstorm, Nightsplash and Dappleback. Along with cats from Shadowclan ; a calico she-cat named Cloudfoot, a white tom named Whitenose, a brown tabby named Oakstripe and a grey she-cat named Mossclaw. A group of eight cats to ensure that they would not fall short of man power when facing a gaggle of rouges that had seemed to of taken out two unsuspecting clan cats so far.
Granted as the group headed off into the distance they hardly got along at first, Featherclaw often trying to take control and Cloudfoot particularly having none of that, it took definite team work to work out of their territory and travel down the abandoned thunderpath in mere hopes of finding their criminals, traveling into an unknown not even the pioneers of their olden days had traveled.
In many a sense, Tigerstorm learned the value of clan versus friend on this journey and just how slim the lines could turn out to be when all you had was such a small group of felines to rely on. At least a moon into their journey, deep in the pines, this became clearer than it ever could of been with the enormous ginger tabby finding herself sleeping in between Nightsplash and Whitenose on a particularly cold night. For the time being, it mattered none who they were or where they came from, but only that they found the common problem.
"Starclan will guide us" Dappleback often chimed in when ever they would become lost or lacking in hope, only to hissed at by Cloudfoot that their starry ancestors would certainly not of followed them this far from home. Of course, potential spats between the two groups were typically stopped under the ever watchful eyes of Tigerstorm and Whitenose, Featherclaw too occupied in a Riverclan sided more than often to be any sort of assistance on that front. Meanwhile, whilst most cats made alliances within the four on four group, Whitenose and Tigerstorm seemed to of made the greatest ; becoming near leaders of their search party.
Perhaps, at the moment where she gained joint and silent leadership even over the Riverclan deputy, the taste of power striking her pallet was enough to corrupt her thinking long enough to make a series of dreadful mistakes. Or, maybe even more accurately, the taste fed a tribal want she had spawned from the moment her sibling seemed greatly favored, only having gotten worse but subdued when she received her warrior name at a later date due to Featherclaw's sabotage. Either way, the two led their group all the closer to their destination so they believed, and with as fine as job as they appeared to be doing, not a cat questioned them. Both average warriors seemed to be seizing what they had wanted and dreamed for since kithood and it was most likely best for no one to question them as power was never given up easily through out history.
In fact, many things could corrupt the mind of a power starved feline. A lesson soon to be learned when they felt almost like the edge of the spherical world would only be a few paw steps away. Placed in charge of finding everyone a safe place to sleep, Whitenose and Oakstripe would go only a little further to see if anything less open was available for them to seek shelter within. As it had often been during their journey, no such luck shined upon them and Tigerstorm was lucky to of found an enormous oak with a root and leaf cover to conceal the majority of them.
Although Whitenose and Oakstripe didn't report anything but there was no shelter up ahead, the fact didn't seem to bother any cat but Featherclaw and Cloudfoot whom seemed eager to know what awaited them but got no answer. And with the sky dark as night with no moon shining and clouds draping over the stars, it was no wonder each cat even on such tired paws had their own issues falling into slumber. Oakstripe particularly occupied with his shifting, Tigerstorm couldn't of been aware when she finally fell into slumber watching the brown tabby act as if ants had wormed their way into his coat.
It had felt like hours since sleep had washed over her, yet daylight never seemed to come even as Tigerstorm poked her head up from her snoozing ball. However, it was one oddity to see that dawn hadn't given light onto the landscape, it was another to see her clanmates and newest allies gone from her sides and to see a starry cat standing before her the moment her eyes came into proper focus. The cat before her resembling Reedheart spoke softly, in a voice barely audible, and Tigerstorm most certainly could not make out what ever her own dearly deceased brother was saying, however, a clearing not even a kit length away seemed to yield answers she had long sought for. The images of Featherclaw biting into her shoulder at their first battle, of him murdering both deputy and Reedheart with his mate. All suspicions confirmed, by what appeared to be a Starclan sent cat.. Before she could ask any questions, her sleep was quite suddenly interrupted as a yowl broke the silence of the night.
Bright green eyes searching for the immediate sound of the call, they first caught the fact that Whitenose and Featherclaw had gone missing, and with that realization came another yowl from the north. Lucidity fully regained, it took no time for Tigerstorm to run towards the sound and come upon a gruesome sight. Pale white pelt and blotched nose stained all with a crimson hue, Whitenose laid pinned, wounded but flailing underneath Featherclaw, held down by the monstrous Maine Coon. And to say the least, at that moment resolve flowed through the she cat's veins to not see another innocent cat be murdered again.
Charging forward, the two so involved with themselves didn't notice her until she had tackled Featherclaw to the ground and in a noisy scuffle, a deadly chomp to the back of her littermate's neck ended his reign of villainy. Or so she believed. In the background, Whitenose was given just enough time to stand upon wobbling paws before another cat barreled into the scene. Oakstripe was capable of striking Whitenose while he was still borderline down and out, and with a few yowls that Tigerstorm watched in shocked horror, the white tom seemed to bleed out on the now stained field in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere.
By that point, all of their group was awake and rushing to the scene. To them, all they saw was two dead cats and two that were scuffed up but alright. Taking a moment, Oakstripe took his time to explain the scenario.
Whitenose had revealed to him that he was, along with an unknowing Tigerstorm, leading them to no where special. Not only that, but the rogue had nothing to do with their clans' murders and Whitenose was all in all responsible for them. His sense of reasoning behind it all? That he would be chosen for this patrol, lead it, eliminate all but a few cats, and return to Shadowclan a hero that they'd talk about for many generations to come. Luckily, Featherclaw and Cloudfoot were capable of seeing through his facade and attempted to stop him.
Tigerstorm painted as the poor creature that had just lost her brother, since no cat saw her do her deed, the squad of any six now mourned deeply with the ginger tabby who reviewed her decisions. She had murdered her sibling in cold blood, because of a simple dream she had eager to prove herself right that decided to manifest in a hallucination of Starclan, and also because she was scared of Whitenose's death. For if Whitenose died, who better to take his place than Riverclan deputy..? The she-cat wanted power, perhaps even greater than her brother ever had.
Power had claimed it's first victim. Though it was far from over.
As the group decided to begin back tracking to return to the clans, Tigerstorm's leadership didn't seem to fade as they were lacking two of their cats, though by the time they were heading back, leafbare was striking the barren forest hard. Making prey scarce, and shelter an even greater asset to their safe return home. However, with starvation and a full on case of home sickness getting to ever cat, it was a recipe for disaster half way from their long trek out.
In a ground covered with snow, Tigerstorm and Cloudfoot went out hunting while the remainder of their group decided to try and find perhaps an old den used by a badger or fox to take shelter in for the night. By some stroke of luck, Tigerstorm was capable of finding a plump tree squirrel hiding away in the winter and Cloudfoot capable of finding a crow near frozen on a low hanging branch. With prey plentiful in comparison to the last few days, the ginger tabby thought their scouting had proven a success until Cloudfoot laid down her crow and confronted Tigerstorm on a matter that needed addressing ; her blunt murder of her own clanmate.
Stating that she had seen how she tore Featherclaw off of Whitenose and didn't bother to even question her own kin before killing him, she stated bluntly that they did not need a cat that disregarded the Warrior code or one that was probably conspiring with Whitenose to lead them completely off track with lies yet again. In short, Cloudfoot informed Tigerstorm that she'd be revealing her actions to the group and her leadership would fall. Though Cloudfoot's actions were justified and morally correct, it was there in the snow that her life came to an end.
This time, as to not cause a fuss and potentially attract her fellow clanmates, Tigerstorm's lunge was well timed and seemingly perfect as she delivered a deadly bite to her former companion from Shadowclan, murdering her and leaving her bleeding out in the silence of winter with snow accumulating on her calico coat. In many ways, she was horrified at what she had just done and with the ease it was done with, and all for the name of her power over a ramshackle group of cats just trying to make it back to their clans in one piece. In other ways, she felt the most powerful she had in her entire life, like the power of life and death rested definitely in her paws.
Bickering with horror and unjustified pride, Tigerstorm quickly made it back with only her squirrel and with a sorrowful mew informed every cat that Cloudfoot had fallen prey to a fox and they had to keep moving. On that whim, they all hurried along and grieved, Mossclaw and Oakstripe staring in grief up at the stars each night as if to wish their clanmate they thought had fallen so untimely best of luck in Starclan where the bitterness of leafbare would no longer nip at her fur.
Within the end of the year, the group now only consisting of five cats returned just around Gathering period to relay their findings.
WARRIORHOOD & DEPUTYHOOD - FOURTH YEAR[/size]
Whitenose's treachery, Featherclaw's death, Oakstripe's loyalty, Tigerstorm's leadership and Cloudfoot's death was spoken of. Shadowclan mourned and Riverclan did as well over the passing of their deputy. But soon enough, the cats divided and returned to their respectful territories. Mossclaw and Oakstripe to Shadowclan and Dappleback, Nightsplash and Tigerstorm to Riverclan.
The night was their return was a big one to say the least.
Riverclan celebrated as best they could and Dappleback retired himself to the elder's den with this journey being almost too much for his being, Nightsplash told tales of glory and Tigerstorm was called away into the leader's den. If all of their tales were true and her leadership was really so grand, she was to take the place of her fallen brother and become deputy of Riverclan. A position happily taken by the she-cat, but with her good news and the announcement, horrid news also involved her.
In the thick of leaf bare, a bout of greencough struck the clan once again and took some of the elder's lives and one of the apprentices, but it took only one warrior ; Webtail. As if the heavens were delivering a punishment for her murders, her mate had been taken away. The only possible thing that could've put a damper on her new position.
But time heals most wounds, and the duty of deputies was great enough to drown out her sorrow for the sake of the clan.
Thankfully, even in the spats of clan Tigerstorm hasn't murdered another cat in cold blood as of yet and even though her faith is Starclan has been near shattered, she's still quite the caring cat for her clan.
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TIGERSTORM.
LET'S KILL TONIGHT
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,7,true][atrb=valign,top] | ♠ NAME -- Tigerstorm ♠ AGE --48 moons ♠ ORIENTATION -- homosexual | ♠ CLAN -- Riverclan ♠POSITION -- Deputy ♠ GENDER -- She cat |
SHOW THEM ALL YOURE NOT THE ORDINARY TYPE
♠ PERSONALITY
See below.
♠ POSITIVE
AMBITIOUS -
In a short, blunt statement, Tigerstorm can easily be described as an ambitious cat. Not exactly one that will use dark means to get to it but one that is perfectly capable of setting aside some of the Warrior code to get what she desire most which is almost always something to do with power of any nature. Working perhaps even a little too hard to become top dog, most say it's why she was not chosen for deputy up until this point ; her sharp tongue and claws certainly needed more aging prior to being given such an honor.
LOYALTY -
While Tigerstorm seems to have no issues with acquiring a friend or two from a different clan, these are typically more pawn material than anything she has a real allegiance with. Though her loyalty to other clans' cats is not admirable, her loyalty and how greatly it belongs to her clan most certainly is. With an objective of one day leading her fellows as head of Riverclan, she sees no grand outlook in making friends with other clan cats since one day not too far off in the past, it's not unlikely that they'd meet in war with claws entangled rather than pleasant mews. In the end, doing what is best for her own clan is always top priority in her book even if it requires the bending of a few rules.
BOLD
Some could call it a positive trait, others a negative. But the she cat refuses to admit that she does anything bold in bad judgment and rather does only what she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt she can do ; a statement that is difficult to say when she once bit a twoleg kit on the ankle when it drew too close to camp. Though she's always first to lead dangerous scouting trips and have everyone come back alive, it's not uncommon for her to make off decision that are only fortunate to have good outcomes. Whether it be excellent foresight or just unbelievable strokes of luck, being so borderline reckless has mostly failed to cause long lasting troubles.
INTELLIGENCE -
In some ways, she is a pioneer of new ideas and new tactics, in others a clear case of curiosity killed the cat. From inspecting the old thunderpath as a kit and to investigating the caverns in adulthood, she not only runs into trouble but observes it closely making for not only fine stories to tell but also learning experiences that have made her all the wiser. As such, many cats of Riverclan won't show much hesitation when wondering about something foreign and even occasionally outside of territory knowledge.
CARING -
Granted it's a side only shown to those that are deemed a care worthy cause, it's a side of her that it rarely shown and can be seen very rarely. Affectionate to those that need it and those that may seem hurt or down and out, she's one to take on another cat's entire set of responsibilities just because they're in the medicine cat's den for a few moons. Though most outer clan cats would not be able to guess that she'd be one to keep another clanmate warm in leaf bare with an ever growing ginger coat.
♠ NEGATIVE
OVER PROTECTIVE -
There is a distinct line between protective and over protective, and Tigerstorm doesn't fail to cross it more often than she should regarding cats she cares dearly for or her clan being in a scenario that provides immediate threats. With a muscular body and claws thick enough to strip bark from oaks, she's more than willing to charge head first into a dangerous scene if an ally is in a fix or her clan is placed under fire. An aspect that has lead to lives being saved at times, but more than often her body acquiring more scars than necessary.
LOW TOLERANCE -
Even if no one could describe Tigerstorm as the most impatient creature to ever strike the forest, her tolerance is strikingly low for cats that refuse to do what she will typically self deem a correct decision. Older apprentices and full grown warriors are no exceptions to her legendary wrath if they fail to check even one hunting spot while prey is low or don't tend to the elders when it's time ; Starclan forbid whine about it. At least one cat a season makes an absurd enough decision that she decides to privately unsheathe her claws.
LACK OF MORALS -
Though she disguises it as wise judgment or buries it all together, her morals typically lack where it's important. Having murdered more than one cat at certain points in time for less than admirable reasons, between her good deeds and bad it's difficult to say whether or not her lacking conscience has assisted her in life or dragged her through the mud. Less importantly, if all knew her actions behind closed doors it'd be hard to say just where she would end up upon death.
BLASPHEMOUS -
Struggle, loss and this harsher than reality leaf bare makes it difficult to believe Starclan doesn't just have it out for them. Though she doesn't disbelieve in them in the slightest, she doesn't believe that they are the epitome of saviors either. Perhaps for Thunderclan or for the ever religious Windclan they are but she refuses to do much but spit in the face of their starry ancestors by acting as she will and in her eyes defying the deadly future the deceased plan for them. If it were not for the nine lives blessed on leaders, she might have delved into a feline mannered atheism moons ago.
AGGRESSIVE -
For all good manners she is capable of, foul behavior is always at the ready to sour her reputation. Almost eager to sink or dig claws and fangs into an opponent, she seems to act on her angers justly but over does her punishments considerably in the process.
♠ APPEARANCE
A Maine Coon in species, perhaps Tigerstorm truly does roughly resemble what a domesticated tiger a few hundred years down the evolutionary line would look like. Burnt orange pelt lighting her pelt like a raging fire, tabby stripes allow for better camouflage and one of the main reasons her prefix is what it is. Lengthy fur blessing her with a better disposition for leaf bare inconveniences than most, her borderline enormous size also gives her a boost when attempting to intimidate an enemy prior to launching an attack. Given her breed's distinct lengthy claws, her build seems to of been built for the sole purpose of barreling over enemies whilst ripping off an ear or two.
Quite the scarred monstrosity, from many a fight somewhere along the line a clip of her right eat has gone missing and a lengthy scar maims her left shoulder.
Quite the scarred monstrosity, from many a fight somewhere along the line a clip of her right eat has gone missing and a lengthy scar maims her left shoulder.
♠ HISTORY
PRE BIRTH - KITHOOD
Many could argue whether or not the pale brown she cat Sandpelt and deep ginger tom Foxtail loved each other when Reedkit was born. The kitten seemed to of been brought out of the season of lust and nothing more, a one night stand as far as cats went, but a female never quite friends with hard work was ever eager to spend a good few moons in the warmth of the Riverclan nursery. Most would relay the happening of Foxtail and Sandpelt's mate ship as an old tom that was just too tired to disagree with much and a she cat that would have best been suited for kittypet life with just how greatly she wished to be waited upon.
Son of a very peaceful tom and very selfish lass, every cat was pleasantly shocked to see Reedkit develop into the noble ginger tom known as Reedheart that was seemingly destined for greatness. Wise soul, it was almost as if Starclan had kissed his thick pelt with divinity far beyond his moons and a peaceful aura that could calm even the rowdiest crowd. With a proud clan and an even more proud set of parents, it wasn't wrong for Sandpelt to want to try for kits once more. Nor was it wrong for Foxtail to give into her hounding, as he could not of had much clue regarding the intentions of his so called mate.
Sandpelt was once again joyous to spend some of her last moons out of the elders den as she gave birth to a litter of two healthy kittens. Though Sandpelt had relayed quite the hissing fit to the medicine cat after her new kin was licked clean from bloody fluid, enough so that she had attracted a good half the clan to her birthing as snarls were aimed at their good meaning seer and medicine man. No one would think any queen would have problems with two healthy bundles of fur in a season were prey was bountiful and weather beautiful, but there the she cat laid with one kitten held close to a warm belly and the other quite unnaturally rejected. A tom she endearingly dubbed Featherkit with his downy, dark brown tabby fur the shade of a hawk's feather, nursed innocently while an unnamed she cat laid mewling in hunger beside it's mother. Was it sick, some chimed, was it deformed, other chirped, but Sandpelt's only complaint was the following ; it was no tom.
The logic of the borderline elderly feline came from the fact that her successful son was no daughter and she wanted more successors like he ; not daughters that might only ruin their chances or slow her newest son down. Yet all she managed from that point on was to gain the disgust of her eldest son and Foxtail. Reedheart was the one to wriggled into the warm nursery which housed such a cold heart and convince her with sly, carefully chosen words to nurse his newborn sister to the relief of medicine cat, father and clanmates all around who thought the mother the most absurd they observed in the creation of their clan. Even so, that night ended with both kittens fed and a chance for survival for both ; all they could wish for from this odd queen.
Disguised as endearing visits to a darling mother, Reedheart continued to ensure that both his new brother and sister stayed well fed and unharmed. Even as ears perked up from the folds they were stuck in and eyes opened, the growing warrior continued his visits while Foxtail took his residence in the elder's den soon after naming his new daughter Tigerkit. But as it turned out Sandpelt was far from the fool many others painted her as, and allowed Reedheart to pay special mind to his sister in worry that she'd be left behind in the wake of Featherkit. For someone with paws as full as her eldest boy could not of hoped to notice her mental poisoning of her new tom.
As moons passed, the kittens became more capable of standing on their own four legs and scampering about in the nursery and even outside, observing their clanmates and the latest apprentices doing duties that they envied at the moment. Even Reedheart began to relax his presence around the youngsters and never quite witnessed Sandpelt's sweet words to Featherkit, whispering to him whenever possible that it was grand to be great and kept him away from his sibling as if she were the plague. It was only natural for such an impressionable young tabby to even begin treating her like a cat with white cough towards the end of their last moon in the nursery. Yet Tigerkit took nothing her littermate did to heart yet, far too occupied observing the apprentices and elder warriors of Riverclan. Even taking small wonders to the shallowest edges of the river in the middle of the night.
APPRENTICEHOOD[/size]
It was not long in reality but seemed to be ages in the eyes of two eager kittens waiting for the new suffix. And the day came one fine morning with Tigerkit and Featherkit well groomed at the fore front of everyone's attention. In the announcement it was deemed that Featherkit became Featherpaw with the fairly young tom Snowface as a mentor and Tigerpaw would be given an older warrior to teach her the ways of the warrior, a tom named Dappleback was given the responsibility of mentor.
Placed into the apprentice dens, Featherpaw missed the safety of the nursery more so than his sister who clearly enjoyed the new freedom, even the most tasking of responsibilities were done with excitement on her behalf. Fortunately for Tigerpaw, her mother's lack of attention to her but over pleasing of Featherpaw had succeeded in little more than giving her daughter a healthy case of independence and Featherpaw accustomed to her babying. However, it only took a few hisses from his now elder's den bound mother to force himself to grow nearly as independent as his littermate, eagerly trying to best his fellows in all tasks done.
While majority of Featherpaw's stunts to gain attention just caused snorts and giggles, Snowface was steadily succeeding in making the tom viciously strong. Teaching mostly offensive moves, for once but not the last time it place him under Tigerpaw's envious eyes. For it was not that her teachings were worse, but it was that they were not as exciting. The grey tom with a tortoiseshell pattern upon his back taught her more so the ways of strategy and not to attack in such an offensive manner as Snowface taught. And even if moons passed and their teachings continued, Tigerpaw could not help but notice her brother appearing to walk much taller and appear far more muscular than herself who was filling with knowledge that went unappreciated.
As Dappleback and his apprentice grew ever closer and secrets were shared, when he felt she was plenty ready battling moves were taught and even when pitted against other apprentices in play fights, a mixture of strategy and claw work won her battles. But her sensation of being undermined by Featherpaw continued, only to be worsened not too many moons in the future.
Quite ready and even expecting any day to become full warriors, an ever distant duo was called forth one evening to join a squabble with Windclan over an ancient but ever problematic accusation of Riverclan stealing their rabbits in a drought. A false claim, in Tigerpaw's eyes, for it wasn't their fault that some of those fluffy beasts ran their way into Riverclan territory, but she trotted along with pride as other warriors joined to no doubt meet an awaiting group of Windclan warriors. The distance ever longer with blood rushing through her ears, to her knowledge this was most likely the task that would earn them their warrior names, and joy was suppressed as little words were exchanged before both groups were locked in combat.
Slashing and flailing in the fray, Tigerpaw was pulling her part in the scramble before suddenly in the haze she felt sharp fangs and claws rake at her front leg and tear away before she could catch but a glimpse of her assailant's brown fur. Afterwards, a limp hindered her step and a warrior assisted a very reluctant tabby to the side lines, insisting she would be of no use to her clan dead or injured ever worse. Though sitting out had it's own advantages, she found, being able to sit and watch even the Windclan specific battle moves and was also capable of seeing her clan walk away victorious with the moor accustomed felines retreating after a well fought match. Yet, in the fray and as they all padded back to their own respective camp, she noted a clear tuft of ginger fur in her own sibling's claws despite the lack of any orange feline being present in their neighbor's ranks.
Fighting suspicions, she and two others went to the medicine cat's den to have their wounds mended, Tigerpaw ordered to stay within the den for at least a few more days along with another she-cat named Webtail whom sustained far greater injuries.
However, no gash in her shoulder could match the pain met by having to watch her perhaps even treacherous brother commended for his bravery in the skirmish and be dubbed Featherclaw. But in fear of just seeming like a jealous kit, her tongue was held and she instead took her time to recover in the medicine cat's den with Webtail to keep her company.
It was less than even half a moon before she was back up and running, though with a scar to remind her of the silence she would come to regret in the future. But luckily, in the same moon the leader decided that not only could the apprentice den house an ever growing Maine Coon cat but it was certainly time. Only a week after her swift recovery and numerous victorious hunts, she was summoned to the front of the clan to receive the name of Tigerstorm ; a name that would most certainly fit a cat with a tempest personality and the unstoppable force that would prove to be her in the following seasons to come.
WARRIORHOOD - FIRST YEAR[/size]
Admittedly, the set back, albeit minor, from her warrior name certainly took it's toll on the young she cat. It was not only her delay but the reflection of her patch of missing fur in the reflection of the river and lake that had altered something and made her stay far from her littermate who was a charismatic cat amongst his mates but still was also an eager one to fight. The first to speak up at Gatherings to claim that Shadowclan or Windclan was trying to steal prey or take territory, making bigger fusses of small matters than need be but also feeding the minds of more blood lusting companions. And with not only his fellows cheering on his ludicrous actions, Sandpelt seemed to purr with pride upon hearing her son's exploits.
Meanwhile it seemed that Tigerstorm focused more so upon more training and observing her brother's wrongful ways that Reedheart, Foxtail, Dappleback and even Snowface on occasion disagreed heartily with. However, very little could stop his absurdity and Tigerstorm preformed as ordered. It was not until leafbare struck the forest that suspicions were confirmed and action was set to be taken.
In the heart of winter's icy grip, trees stripped of all of their leaves, it seemed a horrible season of greencough was striking their clan along with others. Though Riverclan was not struck the hardest, it did take two casualties by it's end ; a senior warrior by the name of Bluesplash and the elderly Sandpelt whom very little were saddened to see go. A former queen that always seemed to snap at kits and apprentices begging for tales of her younger days, only Featherclaw and an ever respectful Reedheart seemed to mourn deeply, Tigerstorm mourning far more for Bluesplash whom was usually a cat on morning patrols and vague friend. Though most cats placed no blame upon her for lack of concern, it made Featherclaw's terms with his sibling no better ; if it had a chance of worsening, that was.
With Sandpelt gone, a constant instigator in Featherclaw's aggressive attitude towards life itself it seemed, Foxtail observed life in his clan quietly in order to watch for at least a moon how little the brown tom altered. And with a cat so dangerous capturing carious hearts and pulling wool so conveniently other the eyes of those who didn't want to see all that was clearly in front of them, one night it was ever obvious that the matter needed handling. And whilst all the snoozed pleasantly in their respective dens, Tigerstorm was brought in secret to the edges of the lake by her sparsely active, ever aging father.
In the silence of early spring, he spoke of a conspiracy that his former mate had been feeding Featherclaw for moons upon moons ; a tale that he was destined to be grand. A prophecy of Starclan foretelling it, so she painted it, even though it took no genius of a cat to know that it was incredibly rare for their celestial ancestors to visit just average cats with dreams of the future. And if it were to come to any warrior, neither father nor daughter could fathom it coming to such a self centered queen who's goal in life seemed to forever be to leave a paw print upon her clan. The issue with the matter at hand though was urgent, seeing as Featherclaw was instructed to take his matters of his destiny with the most serious of attitudes and via any means necessary.
It was sheer luck that the false prophecy was relayed to Tigerstorm that night, as only two days later one of the oldest tomcats in Riverclan passed away in his sleep. For once, it was Reedheart and Tigerstorm mourning over a parent's body with their brother absent, evidently of favoring his father just as his sister did their mother.
The death of their father seemed to strike Reedheart the worse, sending the warrior into a slight depression as Tigerstorm seemed to take a different method of coping with the loss. Through her own sorrow, the she cat that once laid beside her in the medicine den, the black and white Webtail, now laid beside her in the warriors' den. The none too older she cat taking up grooming duties of her companion and often the one to get the ginger beast on her paws when something was not to be done.
Walks alongside the river with the smaller feline and eventually making her own sleeping spot big enough for two, it seemed that not only had she found a mate but the process had made her forsake more than just Foxtail's timely death.
For at the end of the year, gentle purrs exchanged between the two she cats were interrupted by a young apprentice's screeching ; the deceased body of the Riverclan deputy lay dead by the river, throat gauged and mouth agape in horror.
WARRIORHOOD - SECOND YEAR[/size]
It was determined that the former deputy passed from what was most likely a rogue, seeing as the clans had been at peace for many moons now. All the same, it was decided to send out extra patrols to check for foreign scents and double their scent markings to make it perfectly clear just who's territory they were about to cross. Yet, there was a definite air of mystery around the death of the old deputy, and one that didn't fall short of a few cats' eyes.
The idea that Featherclaw potentially murdered their deputy wasn't assisted by the fact that upon his death, Featherclaw was deemed capable of filling the position and gladly accepted. Which was certainly no crime and with the tom in such good relations with the Riverclan leader, Tigerstorm was wise to refrain from bringing up unproven theories and stir up the clan further after every cat was still shocked by the death of their fellow. But even so, it seemed that every other cat besides herself could forget of the suspicious death before she was able to even sleep peacefully with the potential toxic reign of her brother being held over her head.
Even so, sleep came eventually as most things did and by the point she was beginning to feel fully rested, a new batch of kits were of age to begin receiving their apprentice names. And with Featherclaw of already received an apprentice moons ago, it was by his good word that Tigerstorm took one of two apprentices that was now known as Nightpaw ; a small, black tom that was ever eager to learn the trades of his elders.
However, before she had the chance to speak much with her new underling, Featherclaw called the ginger tabby away for just a moment with a friendly wave of his bushy tail. For perhaps the first time since they were mere kits, her brother gave a lick to both her ear and scarred shoulder and an earnest apology for their own little competition that needed to end long ago. The apprentice was, in a way, hopes that she would take him as a token of apology. It was only unfortunate that Tigerstorm did not take their chat to heart or kindly for that matter.
Hissing to her sibling that the only reason he was deputy now was because he played a younger Reedheart to the clan and was a male just as their eldest brother was, though for now seemed far more loyal than their eldest littermate who seemed too preoccupied with out of camp matters lately to be considered as potential future leader. Not only did he only have to credit his position to his sex and persona, but she whispered into her brother's ear that she knew plenty of what he did to their former deputy. All prior to trotting off and leaving a cross tomcat behind her.
Though that was the last time they spoke outside of strictly clan related matters in quite awhile, it was not as if Tigerstorm wasn't busy with her duties as well as the ever growing bundle of black fur that seemed insistent on tracing her paw steps from sun up, to sun down. In the process of training her apprentice, most would say this was when she developed her severe case of personality ; an infectious case of investigating apprentice never did seem to leave the enormous Maine Coon.
Exploring the Caverns for dangers, Nightpaw swiftly adopted his mentor's bold nature and was taught just how to be cautious over plenty of time in his young days. At the end of it all, Tigerstorm produced quite the warrior the leader named Nightsplash one lovely evening. But in true clan fashion, one good event only foreshadowed terrible news for the future.
One early morning, the clan was awoken once more with wretched news of death delivered by Featherclaw, though this was far more personal than the last. At the border of Shadowclan territory laid the body of Reedheart, beside him a cat most only recognized as a she-cat whom usually sat awfully close to Reedheart during Gatherings. And even through the death scent clinging to her fur, her smell was distinct as something that occasionally upon her eldest brother's person after a long night out. Cedarpool as she was called revealed unintentionally just what the two of them were doing so far from camp a few times a moon ; a barely bulging stomach that was ripped open by claw let each cat present see tiny, unborn kits spilled unto the stained field.
The cats present ; Featherclaw, leader, Tigerstorm and Dappleback allowed their deputy to venture into Shadowclan territory and return with a gaggle of Shadowclan warriors to review the corpse of their own clanmate beside the Riverclan tom. As many could imagine, half of the Shadowclan patrol hissed in blame of their neighbors but the set that could have easily became violent was calmed by persuasive, deactivating mews as well as the death of both cats who had broken the Warrior code in the name of love. Love, but a breed of love that most frowned upon. All but Tigerstorm, as she assisted Dappleback in carrying back their stiff companion.
Love was most certainly love, it seemed, even if it was in the warrior code that it was wrong. And though she suspected Featherclaw of the duo's death, his scent was most certainly not on the bloody bodies, she observed that their death was most likely the result of some feline being displeased with their taboo. If it was not frowned upon so greatly, perhaps Reedheart and Cedarpool both would've still been amongst the living..
Returning to camp to preform vigil with Featherclaw and Reedheart's former, now elder mentor who even lent a paw in the burial of his old student. But even with body safely under the dirt to take it's place in the circle of life, as Tigerstorm laid against the furry body of her mate, her mind swirled with the idea of her own littermate murdering not only their eldest sibling but also his mate. Did he think it all just..? Or perhaps he was just ridding himself of competition. Whatever the reason, the she-cat humbly took it upon herself to rid them all of their cold blooded companion.
It was at the end of year two that catastrophe thrust itself like a wrench into her own plans.
WARRIORHOOD - THIRD YEAR[/size]
At the first gathering of the new year, Shadowclan was undoubtedly the ones with the biggest news. In regards to the death of Cedarpool, they believed they had finally found the cat which caused both clans such great grief. Expecting a lashing out towards Riverclan, Tigerstorm and every other cat was shocked to hear they had a prisoner ; a tabby rogue lurking about borders.
They had gotten little out of the young cat, only that he was scouting for a new territory for his group and had indeed killed a pregnant she-cat on his last visit. Also mentioning that there had been a scout before him that killed a cat near a river, the matter of just what to do suddenly became serious.
The foreigners would surely come looking for their buddy, and they hardly needed intruders, Shadowclan and Riverclan seeming most at threat. As it was, they took charge of deciding what was to be done, and chose to send out their own mixed member patrol to go find, and preferably destroy their rivals in land other than their own.
Not even a moon into the future, cats were chosen from Riverclan ; Featherclaw, Tigerstorm, Nightsplash and Dappleback. Along with cats from Shadowclan ; a calico she-cat named Cloudfoot, a white tom named Whitenose, a brown tabby named Oakstripe and a grey she-cat named Mossclaw. A group of eight cats to ensure that they would not fall short of man power when facing a gaggle of rouges that had seemed to of taken out two unsuspecting clan cats so far.
Granted as the group headed off into the distance they hardly got along at first, Featherclaw often trying to take control and Cloudfoot particularly having none of that, it took definite team work to work out of their territory and travel down the abandoned thunderpath in mere hopes of finding their criminals, traveling into an unknown not even the pioneers of their olden days had traveled.
In many a sense, Tigerstorm learned the value of clan versus friend on this journey and just how slim the lines could turn out to be when all you had was such a small group of felines to rely on. At least a moon into their journey, deep in the pines, this became clearer than it ever could of been with the enormous ginger tabby finding herself sleeping in between Nightsplash and Whitenose on a particularly cold night. For the time being, it mattered none who they were or where they came from, but only that they found the common problem.
"Starclan will guide us" Dappleback often chimed in when ever they would become lost or lacking in hope, only to hissed at by Cloudfoot that their starry ancestors would certainly not of followed them this far from home. Of course, potential spats between the two groups were typically stopped under the ever watchful eyes of Tigerstorm and Whitenose, Featherclaw too occupied in a Riverclan sided more than often to be any sort of assistance on that front. Meanwhile, whilst most cats made alliances within the four on four group, Whitenose and Tigerstorm seemed to of made the greatest ; becoming near leaders of their search party.
Perhaps, at the moment where she gained joint and silent leadership even over the Riverclan deputy, the taste of power striking her pallet was enough to corrupt her thinking long enough to make a series of dreadful mistakes. Or, maybe even more accurately, the taste fed a tribal want she had spawned from the moment her sibling seemed greatly favored, only having gotten worse but subdued when she received her warrior name at a later date due to Featherclaw's sabotage. Either way, the two led their group all the closer to their destination so they believed, and with as fine as job as they appeared to be doing, not a cat questioned them. Both average warriors seemed to be seizing what they had wanted and dreamed for since kithood and it was most likely best for no one to question them as power was never given up easily through out history.
In fact, many things could corrupt the mind of a power starved feline. A lesson soon to be learned when they felt almost like the edge of the spherical world would only be a few paw steps away. Placed in charge of finding everyone a safe place to sleep, Whitenose and Oakstripe would go only a little further to see if anything less open was available for them to seek shelter within. As it had often been during their journey, no such luck shined upon them and Tigerstorm was lucky to of found an enormous oak with a root and leaf cover to conceal the majority of them.
Although Whitenose and Oakstripe didn't report anything but there was no shelter up ahead, the fact didn't seem to bother any cat but Featherclaw and Cloudfoot whom seemed eager to know what awaited them but got no answer. And with the sky dark as night with no moon shining and clouds draping over the stars, it was no wonder each cat even on such tired paws had their own issues falling into slumber. Oakstripe particularly occupied with his shifting, Tigerstorm couldn't of been aware when she finally fell into slumber watching the brown tabby act as if ants had wormed their way into his coat.
It had felt like hours since sleep had washed over her, yet daylight never seemed to come even as Tigerstorm poked her head up from her snoozing ball. However, it was one oddity to see that dawn hadn't given light onto the landscape, it was another to see her clanmates and newest allies gone from her sides and to see a starry cat standing before her the moment her eyes came into proper focus. The cat before her resembling Reedheart spoke softly, in a voice barely audible, and Tigerstorm most certainly could not make out what ever her own dearly deceased brother was saying, however, a clearing not even a kit length away seemed to yield answers she had long sought for. The images of Featherclaw biting into her shoulder at their first battle, of him murdering both deputy and Reedheart with his mate. All suspicions confirmed, by what appeared to be a Starclan sent cat.. Before she could ask any questions, her sleep was quite suddenly interrupted as a yowl broke the silence of the night.
Bright green eyes searching for the immediate sound of the call, they first caught the fact that Whitenose and Featherclaw had gone missing, and with that realization came another yowl from the north. Lucidity fully regained, it took no time for Tigerstorm to run towards the sound and come upon a gruesome sight. Pale white pelt and blotched nose stained all with a crimson hue, Whitenose laid pinned, wounded but flailing underneath Featherclaw, held down by the monstrous Maine Coon. And to say the least, at that moment resolve flowed through the she cat's veins to not see another innocent cat be murdered again.
Charging forward, the two so involved with themselves didn't notice her until she had tackled Featherclaw to the ground and in a noisy scuffle, a deadly chomp to the back of her littermate's neck ended his reign of villainy. Or so she believed. In the background, Whitenose was given just enough time to stand upon wobbling paws before another cat barreled into the scene. Oakstripe was capable of striking Whitenose while he was still borderline down and out, and with a few yowls that Tigerstorm watched in shocked horror, the white tom seemed to bleed out on the now stained field in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere.
By that point, all of their group was awake and rushing to the scene. To them, all they saw was two dead cats and two that were scuffed up but alright. Taking a moment, Oakstripe took his time to explain the scenario.
Whitenose had revealed to him that he was, along with an unknowing Tigerstorm, leading them to no where special. Not only that, but the rogue had nothing to do with their clans' murders and Whitenose was all in all responsible for them. His sense of reasoning behind it all? That he would be chosen for this patrol, lead it, eliminate all but a few cats, and return to Shadowclan a hero that they'd talk about for many generations to come. Luckily, Featherclaw and Cloudfoot were capable of seeing through his facade and attempted to stop him.
Tigerstorm painted as the poor creature that had just lost her brother, since no cat saw her do her deed, the squad of any six now mourned deeply with the ginger tabby who reviewed her decisions. She had murdered her sibling in cold blood, because of a simple dream she had eager to prove herself right that decided to manifest in a hallucination of Starclan, and also because she was scared of Whitenose's death. For if Whitenose died, who better to take his place than Riverclan deputy..? The she-cat wanted power, perhaps even greater than her brother ever had.
Power had claimed it's first victim. Though it was far from over.
As the group decided to begin back tracking to return to the clans, Tigerstorm's leadership didn't seem to fade as they were lacking two of their cats, though by the time they were heading back, leafbare was striking the barren forest hard. Making prey scarce, and shelter an even greater asset to their safe return home. However, with starvation and a full on case of home sickness getting to ever cat, it was a recipe for disaster half way from their long trek out.
In a ground covered with snow, Tigerstorm and Cloudfoot went out hunting while the remainder of their group decided to try and find perhaps an old den used by a badger or fox to take shelter in for the night. By some stroke of luck, Tigerstorm was capable of finding a plump tree squirrel hiding away in the winter and Cloudfoot capable of finding a crow near frozen on a low hanging branch. With prey plentiful in comparison to the last few days, the ginger tabby thought their scouting had proven a success until Cloudfoot laid down her crow and confronted Tigerstorm on a matter that needed addressing ; her blunt murder of her own clanmate.
Stating that she had seen how she tore Featherclaw off of Whitenose and didn't bother to even question her own kin before killing him, she stated bluntly that they did not need a cat that disregarded the Warrior code or one that was probably conspiring with Whitenose to lead them completely off track with lies yet again. In short, Cloudfoot informed Tigerstorm that she'd be revealing her actions to the group and her leadership would fall. Though Cloudfoot's actions were justified and morally correct, it was there in the snow that her life came to an end.
This time, as to not cause a fuss and potentially attract her fellow clanmates, Tigerstorm's lunge was well timed and seemingly perfect as she delivered a deadly bite to her former companion from Shadowclan, murdering her and leaving her bleeding out in the silence of winter with snow accumulating on her calico coat. In many ways, she was horrified at what she had just done and with the ease it was done with, and all for the name of her power over a ramshackle group of cats just trying to make it back to their clans in one piece. In other ways, she felt the most powerful she had in her entire life, like the power of life and death rested definitely in her paws.
Bickering with horror and unjustified pride, Tigerstorm quickly made it back with only her squirrel and with a sorrowful mew informed every cat that Cloudfoot had fallen prey to a fox and they had to keep moving. On that whim, they all hurried along and grieved, Mossclaw and Oakstripe staring in grief up at the stars each night as if to wish their clanmate they thought had fallen so untimely best of luck in Starclan where the bitterness of leafbare would no longer nip at her fur.
Within the end of the year, the group now only consisting of five cats returned just around Gathering period to relay their findings.
WARRIORHOOD & DEPUTYHOOD - FOURTH YEAR[/size]
Whitenose's treachery, Featherclaw's death, Oakstripe's loyalty, Tigerstorm's leadership and Cloudfoot's death was spoken of. Shadowclan mourned and Riverclan did as well over the passing of their deputy. But soon enough, the cats divided and returned to their respectful territories. Mossclaw and Oakstripe to Shadowclan and Dappleback, Nightsplash and Tigerstorm to Riverclan.
The night was their return was a big one to say the least.
Riverclan celebrated as best they could and Dappleback retired himself to the elder's den with this journey being almost too much for his being, Nightsplash told tales of glory and Tigerstorm was called away into the leader's den. If all of their tales were true and her leadership was really so grand, she was to take the place of her fallen brother and become deputy of Riverclan. A position happily taken by the she-cat, but with her good news and the announcement, horrid news also involved her.
In the thick of leaf bare, a bout of greencough struck the clan once again and took some of the elder's lives and one of the apprentices, but it took only one warrior ; Webtail. As if the heavens were delivering a punishment for her murders, her mate had been taken away. The only possible thing that could've put a damper on her new position.
But time heals most wounds, and the duty of deputies was great enough to drown out her sorrow for the sake of the clan.
Thankfully, even in the spats of clan Tigerstorm hasn't murdered another cat in cold blood as of yet and even though her faith is Starclan has been near shattered, she's still quite the caring cat for her clan.
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♠ ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE
In the dark of night, wind swirled like the wake of an angered sky goddess and battered with sheer rage at all it could find. Howling like a gravely wounded warrior fighting back all the cats in the forest, the mighty force battered at the trees icy and bare as they were in winter's wake. Extending branches from even the strongest of oaks snapped and fell unto the snow, making tufts of power fly up in it's wake only to get carried off by the same force that brought it down. But as Riverclan was, a storm typically didn't bother them with eons of experience with the tempest they always chose to make their camp close to, yet this was no average gale.
Like bold ancestors before her, the Maine Coon cat known as Tigerstorm stood upon a boulder that was repeatedly sloshed with the river's foaming fury, the water doing what seemed to be it's best to break the rock before it but not succeeding in the slightest. Everything else could fall in it's immediate surge except for rocks, it seemed, and if it were not for ginger tabby fur rippling violently in the northern winds brushes Tigerstorm would not of looked too far from rock herself. Gazing up at the sky with unblinking eyes, jade green eyes reflected a hideous sight for a night like this ; even if the moon was supposed to be i a crescent shape and stars shining bright, black clouds darker than sin itself blocked everything out. Only the snow upon the ground put everything in contrast.
Starclan was forsaking them, drastically so, and even if she was not a cat that believed Starclan was always out for everyone's best interest nor were they always the gods which sent death defying storms, she had to admit things were different. Imbeciles believed false prophets and wanted to change a system that worked and just needed tweaking from time to time. Nothing needed to be scratched out and rewritten in stone. Sniffing at the very thought, her exhale sent out a smokey vapor from each nostril as she gazed upon the displeased river for a moment. A moment, perhaps, but one big enough to make a discovery.
Ice. Ice was floating upon the river, threatening to crust over the beastly creature if it stayed calm for too long. As if fighting it's fate tooth and claw, a sudden wave slammed against Tigerstorm's rock and the crash of thin ice was hear, and dreadfully cold droplets of water were lost on a coat simply made for the chill.
"It couldn't be.." she murmured, eyes widening as she watched the sight. Impossible, no, improbable.. The river couldn't freeze over like that! But with the water levels just growing higher, duty called and she charged into camp with her news.
"The river, the river's going to flood!" the deputy yowled, attracting every cat's attention, before she came to stand still in the center of camp, ignoring some questioning eyes on her pelt. "And I do believe that it might just freeze in this forsaken weather."
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MAY YOUR FATE SERVE YOU WELL
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