Flystar Shadowclan leader

[ḞḶIṆṪ]

Name: Flystar

Gender: She-cat

Moons: 38 moons

Rank: Leader

Clan/Land: Shadowclan


Description:

EYES: Flystars lovely eyes steal the forests green. Her home is in the swaying ferns and knotted trees of Shadowclan and her orbs seem to reflect those surroundings. As if born to gaze upon the forest Flystars eyes glint like young buds in new leaf. Darker veins of green ripple inward to twin black slashes. The ripples give her eyes the texture of shady full leaves under the sun. When light dances on her orbs they sparkle with life.

FUR: Her largest feature, Flystars fur is easily mistaken to be plain tabby brown. However, her dark pelt is anything but ordinary. It has none of the traditional tabby markings other pelts bear and instead steals across her fur, a solid shade. A blend of both dark chocolate and dry brown, Flystars fur looks like a shadowy dust cloud seen through the suns rays. Indeed it has been described to resemble tree bark. Speckled threwout her pelt are stunning blue gray flecks. They dot her paws and ankles extending down her spine. Only a few break code and appear on her ears and nose. Her light step bounces on every whisker and hair. She has a light pelt consisting of longer courser and shorter rabbit-hare strands. It provides a cool relief under the relentless sun but gives little comfort in winter when even the breath freezes over.

WEIGHT: Like any small and fast warrior of the marsh, Flystars weight equals only 13 pounds. This makes her quick and light on her paws. She gains agility and speed by being small. Shadowclanners are some of the most graceful cats due to their often sticky environment.

BUILD: Flystars agile body doesn’t allow for many surprises. She is a typical Shadowclan cat in every way. Born with their characteristic body, Flystar slides through life on a small frame. Looking at her narrow shoulders and hips she doesn’t look the part of a strong adversary. Her body simply seems light and airy, something that might drifted away at a sign of wind. But beneath her wispy fur is an ample layer of wiry muscle. Taunt from swift hunts and long patrols, Flystar has all the strength she needs. Her legs are especially powerful and make her a slightly tall cat. She has a strong back tapering into an average flickering tail. Although she resembles a bird, Flystar packs all the power of a true warrioress.

SCRAPES/SCARS: Resembling cross hairs, two smooth streaks part her fur on her hind left leg. One, she remembers well, grew from a tooth of a fellow warrior, a she-cat who detested Flysteps deputyship. The other came on the eve of her leaders death. Flystep defended his life when a revenged dog broke into camp. She also bears a small indent on her front paw from a miss placed step and a well placed thorn.

FULL DESCRIPTION: Balanced on the light build of a Shadowclan cat, Flaystar’s body looks to have drifted in with the wind. Skin deep though and a hard layer of muscle bunches beneath her pelt. Her bronze fur consists of two levels, coarse longer strands at the edge of her pelt, and softer velvety threads making up the majority of her fur. Her stunning eyes glow with a color only trees usually bear. Olive, leaf, or budding flower their shade of green is uncanny. Only two seeable lines tear her pelt on her hind leg. She is of Shadowclan, and she is well adapted for it.





History // Past:

NEWLY BORN: Flystar and her sister’s young voices first touched the air one cold morning in the beginning of leaf bare. Frost turned the ground outside to crystal and sun drops danced its surface to a smooth icy layer. Flykit and Thistlekit had no worries of the clouds over head in fact they wouldn’t see them for several more moons. Flykit had more important things to do then worry over weather. She still had a name to earn. A kitless queen came to help Grasswishker care for her new children and picked the unnamed Flykit up for a cleaning in her den. Flykit squealed, the moment her paws touched down she was off. As fast at her rumpley legs could scoot she made for mom. The slight queen Grasswishker was so touched and impressed she named her dark little girl Flykit.

KIT HOOD: Near their 4th moon Flykit and Thistlekit loved nothing more then being out of the nursery. Flykit dazzled in her mixed chocolate dust laced fur and Thistlekit sparkled in her pail brown figure. The two loved to play with the apprentices who, in general, didn’t want to hang around them. Both Flykit and Thistlekit proved to be strong and healthy, Flykit already was thundering around camp at a run with her equally fast sister on her tail.

When the snow started to fall both were delighted by the white glimmer it gave to camp. They loved to play in it and toss it; Thisltekit even discovered you could eat it and it turned to water. Amid the playful fights hunger broke lose and soon the glittery snow lost it’s appeal as the camp lost weight.

Thistlekit woke Flykit in the predawn of their 5th moon on life. She was awake and exited, the apprentices were going out to try and catch prey from the neighboring Slyclan territory. Flykits eyes widened when Thistlekit said she planned to go along. Flykit chose not to go, unaware she would never see Thistlekit the same again.

Near noon of the same day Thistlekit and the apprentices had not returned. The half starved camp was in a frenzy, the constant snow had blown away both their sent and tracks. Afraid for her sister, Flykit quickly whipped her fur through the snow to hide her color better and slipped through a hole in the nursery she and her sister had made before the prey famine. She shook beneath her velvet fur and darted off.

APPRENTICESHIP: Flykits paws failed to break the icy layer coating the ground as she moved below her leader. She couldn’t admit to not being proud or happy but their was such a loss in her heart. It swelled there, next to her empty side where Thistlekit should be, on the ground apprentices who would now be warriors should have sat just moments ago. Starring at her paws she waited to her new mentor’s name.

Featherdrift! Flypaw winced as her new name rang on lips of every cat. Like an old sluggish elder she dragged herself up and over to the honey warrioress and looked into the amber eyes of disdain as their frost bit noses touched.

Her new mentor proved as cold as the wind that stung Flypaws eyes. Despite her speed Featherdrift insisted on making her run the boarders every couple days. Her broken mew hissed in Flypaws ears orders that were to dictate every part of her life. During those horrid runs by the Riverclan boarder she couldn’t keep the blood from engulfing her mind again and again. Slowly, Featherdrift began the task of teaching Flypaw to fight and hunt. She had a vicious sense of gentile when it came to practice fighting and Flypaws sharp tongue didn’t help relations between the two. It earned her several scrapes and burses when they whirled in practice battle.

Featherdrift eventually learned of Flypaws disposition. Flypaw fumbled through the territory, searching in the slush for any of the soggy prey when Featherdrift rasped of her mousebrainedness. She pointed where the pray could clearly be scented and sent Flypaw off. Little Flypaw knew she’d never be able to find it but poked into every bramble anyway. It wasn’t hard for Featherdrift to figure out Flypaws lack of tracking abilities were do to her inability to scent. From then on the runs were replaced with hunting practice. Flypaw was miserable under Featherdrift but did learn what she secretly called ‘hidden hunting’ it worked well only with pray she could hear or see, like mice drinking from the river or birds pecking at seeds. Still it worked and she managed to bring in an impressive amount during her exam. With spring prey was on the return and Flypaws skills were gaining strength.

Meanwhile, back at camp Thistlepaw’s tattered soul was losing strength. Flypaw had visited her sister every night before she went to bed in an effort to keep her spirits up. After the last of the three apprentices that day died Thistlepaw had folded in on herself. Flypaw licked her fur and mewed stories of what apprenticeship was like to her but as if trapped in mud, her twin sibling started to sink away.

Flypaw often met Grasswhisker when she went to see Thistlepaw. To the young she cat it felt as if her mother was all she had left. Her father, once a proud warrior had lost his sight and moved to the elder dens. Grasswhisker had become to hurt inside to be much support to the still healthy Flypaw and often disappeared to the elder dens with her mate.

Near the end of Flypaws training Thistlepaw finally succumbed to Starclan. Flypaw was devastated. Her tears matted Thistlepaws brown fur. It felt like her heart had been buried with her sister. Cold and finding no comfort with her grieving parents Flypaw became listless. Her condition wasn’t missed by Featherdrift who enjoyed the time prodding Flypaw constantly.

WARRIORESS: A Half moon had passed since Thistlepaws passing. Flypaw’s teeth flashed as Featherdrift sat uncomfortably close. The vicious honey mentor sneered and straightened to focus on their leader. Time had memorized the ancient passage from apprentice to warrior, now it was Flypaws turn to join her clan’s most popular rank. She received the name Flystep for her exceptional speed and skill. Under the new leaf sky she sat alone in vigil over camp. Flystep closed her eyes and let go that night. She deemed this a new chapter in her life and as she opened her eyes she smiled. Her eyes were still amazed by all the leaves on the bushes. Born in leaf fall to a prolonged winter each green husk was lovely under the starlight.

Several gatherings passed and the heat of summer cooked on the great rock. Flystep was a successful warrior; she brought in prey and guarded the boarders well using only her sight and hearing abilities. Featherdrift never let on about her disability and the dark amber Flystep didn’t enlighten anyone.

One day while busy patrolling, she and another warrior and apprentice got in a fight with a pair of bruit brother rogues. The nasty pair thought the young apprentice she cat pretty and made rude comments to her. Flystep and the warrior attacked. She saw her clan mate go down in a withering mass but with the new apprentices surprise attack drove the pair off. They helped their injured comrade home where they learned a stringy tendon in his leg had broke.

This left the she cat Nightpaw without a mentor. For a few unofficial days Flystep took her in and went patrolling with her. Nightpaw had spunk coupled with headless amounts of energy. Flystep enjoyed her company and found herself naturally admiring her spirit. A meeting was called, Nightpaws mentor wouldn’t walk again for several moons. It was announced that Flystep would take over her training. Flystep unconsciously glanced at Featherdrift. Her old mentor gazed back and a toothy smile crept over her maw. The new mentor and apprentices noses touched and Flystep swore she would never let Featherdrift near this little black she cat in body or in some twisted way, through Flystep herself.

Training Nightpaw was as easy as catching sleeping pray. For awhile Flystep thought it would be hard, she thought their had to be some reason Featherdrift hated her so. But just the opposite proved true with Nightpaw. Flystep found her a quick and eager learner, though she had difficulties with the warrior code, in no time Flystep was certain she’d be a warrior.

The only difficulty for the first time mentor was teaching Nightpaw to track. Flystep resolved this by sighting prey and asking Nightpaw to scout its path back to the main burrow. Training Nightpaw was insightful to Flystep whose mentor had never bothered to actually attend to her tracking problem. Nightpaw was smart but she never noticed her mentor’s lack of ability. She did learn fast and was ready for warriorship early. Flystep was sad to see her earn her name as the trees bronzed around them. She cheered on the new warrior Nightbird and silently crept to the entrance of her den to watch her nearly invisible form sit vigil. It was then her heart started to burn for kits of her own.

The leaves began to fall unbroken by any major events. Just as the ice began to drip down like frozen stars Flystep received her second apprentice, a gray and soot speckled tom called Beetlepaw. As her lessons with him began so to began the forests unrest that would soon whip claw and fang into a bloody battle.

Prey dropped from the trees and fields early. Only a pawstep into leaf bear and Flystep was having trouble finding food for Beetlepaw to catch. Any morsels she did find were needed for the clan so she couldn’t waste it on practice. Snow inched up the trees as Shadowclans stomachs shrunk. Hungry, a few warriors started to return with the strange prey.

The Moon fattened till full and under its eye the gathering turned into a mob of vicious accusations. Shadowclan were not the only ones to be acquiring strange prey and panged stomachs churned harsh words. The two clans left with no resolve.

Alarm shattered the still of night, Flystep shoved past Nightbird strait into oncoming attackers. She learned they were Riverclan and, after finding Beetlepaw, fought side by side her leader with him. Near moon high the war party broke off leavening a bleeding camp in their wake.

More skirmishes erupted along the Riverclan boarder. Food became scarcer then the battles over it. Flystep and Beetlepaws tracks began to appear in the snow when it was decided Shadowclan needed to make a powerful statement.

The next day in the gray world of twilight the Shadowclaners slipped past the Riverclan boarder in three groups lead by their leader, the deputy, and a senior warrior. Flystep was in the senior warriors group and during their section of battle he fled with blood flinging from his fur. Flystep took charge and led her party into the heart of camp. The battle whirled about and eventually Shadowclan grew tired and retreated victorious.

On their way home they caught all the pray they could and feasted on mice that night. Two days latter the dawn patrol was ambushed and their beloved deputy was murdered.

DEPUTYSHIP: Surprise shot through her body form ears to paws that moon high. Unblinking she stood and moved beneath their leader. Her pads felt hot and wet but she glanced back to a crowed of approving faces and instantly relaxed, they had all become her friends. Well, all but one.

A Screech ripped from Featherdrift. She pushed forward bristling next to Flystep. She spat out Flysteps inability to track and hissed of her pathetic inexperience. Cats were stunned to learn of her scent disability. Suddenly they were undecided, some pointed out she could never guide them in enemy territory. Long debates passed and Flystep spoke directly to the clan. Featherdrift egged on those that still sided with Flystep. Then, as if remembering who they talked about, opinion shifted and it was agreed Flystep would make a find deputy. She thanked them and with a side glance of victory at Featherdrift turned and sat below, certain she had Shadowclans support and sure she could handle the responsibility.

Featherdrift attacked. Her fangs cut into Flysteps hind leg and the mentor and apprentice kicked up fur as they fought. Everyone was furious at Featherdrift to was sent back to the dens. Flystep winced and got up. She listened to the cheers and made for the medicine cats den.

Honey Featherdrift disappeared under the starlight and never appeared in Shadowclans territory again. Flystep took to her new duties well but the winter got no easier. More food fighting continued until every clan was too exhausted to waste the energy. Flystep witnessed her leader lose a life. His fur looked like it would fall from his bones.

New leaf found the forest clinging to the last bits of crowfood. Flystep felt weak constantly and she feared their leader would lose another life. She organized anyone with strength left to get food and with the advancing day light came better prey. New leaf ripened and slowly the forest regained it’s strength.

Near Mid New leaf, after pushing the limits of apprenticeship age, Beetlepaw was awarded his warrior name of Beetleclaw. Nightbird sat next to her former mentor as she cheered on the little tom. Flystep felt better. Sweet blossoms perfumed the air from distant trees and the grass shadows grew tall. She enjoyed sharing tongues with everyone and a litter of kits was born.

New leaf darkened to Green leaf thick with prey and content cats. One day when heat burned their tails and everyone was in their dens, some lone dog charged for camp. A warning went up and Flystep hissed for the nursery and elders to be protected. Her leader appeared and she winced. This was his last summer, word had leaked he’d witnessed eight lives and after this death he would not wake. She shuddered as the beasts bitter smell broke through the barrier right before it did.

Flystep ordered everyone to stay out of its way and only strike if it threatened the younger and older cats. The dripping black nose turned on her leader and Flystep snarled and leaped, digging her fangs into its face. She was slammed down and grabbed by a hind leg and thrown. The dog thundered toward her as Flysteps fur disappeared down a hole. She cut its brown eye from the entrance as it tried to dig her out. That at last sent it off. Flystep got up and returned to a mutilated camp. To topple the blow, the medicine cat leaned over a wheezing leader.

LEADERSHIP: The next day he was done. She wasn’t surprised, no one was. After the burial Flystep made the short journey to Mother mouth the next day. It was a painful experience, Thistlekit was there. Apparently in Starclan she was called Thistleday for her death so long after the initial stab. It brought tears to Flysteps eyes to see her so young still. Their was so much knowledge in her eyes.

She returned to camp as Flystar, their new leader for as long as nine life’s could get her. Her clan’s process on the destruction looked good and kits tumbled in their way but no one minded. This would be ok Flystar thought. Somehow they might have to deal with another harsh winter but for now, everything was perfect. She purred and basked in sunlight of yet another new chapter.


Relations:

Mother - - Grasswishker
(Single mother and senior warrioress)

Father - - Blacksight
(Now in the elders den for his failed sight)

Sister - - Thistlekit
(Eventually died in New leaf after attack)

Mentor - - Featherdrift
(Left her clan after her apprentice became deputy)

Apprentices - - Nightbird & Beetleclaw
( Both became successful warriors )


Personality:

GENERAL PERSONALITY: Flystar was born a butterfly. She was ever present at all social events and made friends fast. A good listener, knowledge never held her back, she often outsmarted her den mates in conversation. She learned early on she had little sense of smell and tried desperately to hide it. When she was young her dream was to become a queen, as a leader she has had to abandon this. She lets the warrior code and her moral compass guide her paws. She tries not to let others get to her but easily maintains grudges. She feels she is a fair cat and because of her listening skills, feels she makes decisions based on the whole picture. A good judge of character and a she-cat who can see both sides of the story, Flystep was a popular choice for deputy when the time came.

LIKES: Loves spending as much time as she can with her clan. Flystar’s a social butterfly and her leader abilities don’t impede on her ability to chat with the members of her clan.

DISLIKES: She has a strong and growing detest for all other clan warriors who ‘accidentally’ trip over the boarder. They should never have been that close to begin with and what kind of warrior is that clumsy? She sees no excuse here and easily deals harsh punishment.


STRENGTHS:

Flystar’s mind is both her biggest strength and adversary. It generates a sharp tongue edged with both tactful and sarcastic words. She finds inconsistency as easily as kits find trouble and uses her mind to exploit and crack that fault. Although it can bring fur to fly, Flystar has avoided many a bad situation using merely the strength of her voice.

Her name precedes her paws but not by much. Flystar is quick on her feet, she speeds over the earth a blinding swirl of color and pushes impossible leaps to pin her pray. Possibly one of the fastest cats in the forest, Flystar should have been named for her impossible speed.

A good ear can gain a lot. Few learn well while talking and Flystar has taken this to heart. As an apprentice she was a quiet listener to both elders tails and leaders commands. She eternalized much of what she heard and stored it for later use. She has gained a great understanding of the warrior code and of Starclan by listening to older cats opinions.

She makes her own decisions. Part of being a good listener and a good leader is making good decisions. She does have a flexible view but beneath that openness her own opinions rarely waver. She takes the worlds given information and draws her own conclusions based on the warrior code and what she knows is right.

Flystar realizes things are not always black and white. Although she has a strong sense of right and wrong Flystar does not have two toned vision. Her moral compasses is her biggest guide. She has not always chosen to follow its direction, but knowing where she stands puts her and her clan on stable ground.


WEAKNESSES:

A burden every female leader has had to bear, Flystar had plans when she was younger of having kits. Starting a family of her own with a funny, loyal partner was her dream. She believed like all she cats do that this would be her future, a happy warrioress and queen in a good family. Sadly, those roots sunk deeper then she thought and every so often jealousy fires her mouth at some of the more lovey dovey queens.

Some cats, and other leaders see the slight bodice of Flystar as a sign of a weak leader. She does let it get to her and recently has suffered private bouts of depression. She views herself as petty for this and has been known to beat herself up inside, angry that she lets anyone affect her so. With the support of the clan though Flystar has gained the confidence to overcome this problem.

She does hold grudges. Although Flystar is aware grudge holding just puts more burden on her solders she has a hard time forgetting past conflict. She has no problem with getting back at others in spiteful ways. Although she has no Grudges with other leaders currently, the development of one will try her strength if her clan needs that leaders support for help.

Although it’s not something that’s normally a problem, Flystar doesn’t smell as well as many other cats. She often chooses to rely on scenting through her mouth. It is easy enough to overcome in her own territory, but when creeping upon an unsuspecting camp, she is forced to allow her deputy or other warrior to manage the finer details.

Flystar does have a hard time losing face to other cats. She is smart and rarely suffered being wrong when she was younger. Although with age this foolish trait is being buried she sometimes must resist a sharp response in place of a more formal casual acceptance of her error.


FEARS:

She reasonably worries of embarrassing her clan at gatherings.

Messing up and leading her cats into a situation where some could be hurt or killed. This fear often eats her heart before battle.

She has no idea of what to do if she ever became a cripple, and wonders what to do with her clan this should happen.

She spends endless nights wondering if she’s made the right decisions. She knows the wrong ones can lead to disaster.

She knows fire and knows to fear it.

She fears not being able to get over her pride enough to do what’s best for her clan.

The idea of going to her medicine cats den for treatment sends shivers up her spine though she has no problem entering the fern haven while uninjured.


GOALS: She has accomplished becoming leader, a dream nearly every warrior played out as a kit. Now one of her smaller goals is not to succumb to her desire for a family. She also works hard to never step a paw from Starclans path. If her life could play out with her leading Shadowclan through seasons of prey and sunshine she would be happy. Since Flystar knows this will never happen her main goal is to lead Shadowclan in the best way she can.


Role Playing Example:

Ice tinged wind pulled at her dusty brown fur. The little kit shivered beneath her fluffy unprotective pelt. With each move her limbs ached, how could anyone survive out here? Her olive orbs stung as she squinted back to the whitewash of her camp. “What am I doing?” She mumbled. Weren’t parents suppose to keep their kits in the nursery so they wouldn’t end up in situations like this? She wanted to turn around and go back to the black warmth of her den and let the frost melt from her whiskers. But how could she? Swallowing, Flykit launched forward onto the gritty crust of ice that stung her paws.

She followed the direction her mother had once told her was the way to the Riverclan boarder using the camp as an anchor. She winced as her nose and ears turned numb. Each pawstep brought her closer to the waterlogged part of the forest though, maybe she would see the great rushing river! Flykit bounded off again, she’d only seen pathetic scraps of water around camp but supposedly Riverclan was full of the stuff!

Shadowclan camp was buried by snow and Flykits angular from continued on. She twisted back only once to realize her pawsteps were all that could guide her. The snows had eased and she noticed for the first time the world that greeted her to a clear glimpse at its features.

Flykit was amazed, the banks of snow were so sharply cut towards starclan she doubted any cat could climb them. Smooth white ice evened out the land but couldn’t hide the tree trunks. It looked like a big fluffy cloud to Flykit. She laughed and tumbled forward eagerly poking her nose into anything that broke above the surface.

A lash of wind stripped the peaks of their pointed tops and made Flykit giggle as the world sparkled down to her. And suddenly she spat as a rancid smell overcame her lack of sent. “Ugh, who leaves a smell like that?” She grumbled and crouched, moving on big kit paws around the bank. Tall twisted oaks sprouted from the ground on a single stem. Flykit wrinkled her nose in distaste. Not only where they ugly, they were covered with tuffs of fur and sickly sent.

“This must be the boarder.” She waited wide eyed for something to happened, surly there would be Riverclaners here. But not a shadow moved and she got sore so eventually she slipped as stealthily as she could up to the invisible line. To Flykit, the ashy limbed trees looked like strange bushes and there wasn’t a drop of green on them. Back amongst the pines limbs only tore from their trunks at the top of the tree. And unlike these pathetic shapes, they still were lush with needles.

She decided to pad right although she had no idea why. Even with the gangly shapes next to her the land gave no clue as to where she was. In the distance a soft sound curled in her ears. “Was that a moan?” She froze and waited, hoping the sound wouldn’t come again. It did, she could easily her it when she listened.

Nervous, her speckled fur trembled as she crept forward. “What kind of animal makes a nose like that? No way is it a bird.” Flykit mumbled with barely audible breath. She was talking just to keep herself calm. Ahead each sound got louder until from under the gray stems which she had slipped into, she saw a patch of gray blue fur. “Waterpaw!” She screeched and rushed forward. Yes! She’d found them! They could all go home now and be in a bit of trouble but it was ok, the clan might be so relived they wouldn’t even get in punished that badly!

She pushed her nose into the tom cats fur all bouncy and feeling happy. Suddenly she screamed and leaped back. “Waterpaw! Waterpaw” She shook more violently then she had in the cold. He was still, his sides already solid and unmoving. “Nooo!” Flykit turned and ran up the bank straight into russet snow.

She looked down, to scared to look up as her fur melted the ice and let the blood mat against her. “Flykit” Her head snapped up. A shape so familiar she would recognize it if she were blind lay wet in the snow. “Thistlekit!” She stumbled over and crouched by her side. Tears darkened her fur and hurt her cold nose. “Thistlekit.” She sobbed and collapsed next to her sister, pressing her tinged fur over her sister’s dusty pelt. She tried to keep her warm but Thisltepaw slipped into her own world. “Your - . . . your n – not shaking This . . t – tlekit. It’s co – old.” She closed her eyes and pressed her face into her sisters side. She could hear her heart beat still pounding.
“Starc - clan please help u - s.”

Theme Song: . . .
Code Word: Twisted Warriors
Biography Completion: Yes

[FIRESTRIPE ❥]

Approved