Post by Lem on Jul 16, 2014 0:17:32 GMT -5
Name: Spiderkit/paw
Age: 6 moons
Gender: Molly
Allegiance: MarshClan
Rank: Kit/Medicine Cat Apprentice
Picture: [x]
Appearance:
Spiderpaw is an average sized cat for her age, with long-ish legs, quick, dainty paws, and a long tail. Her fur is medium length, fluffy, black with a dusky brown undertone that shows in the sunlight. Spiderpaw's facial features aren't particularly remarkable, she has a normal-looking face with a small, roundish muzzle and big-ish ears with slightly rounded tips, and a beetle-black nose. Spiderpaw's eyes, however, are rather striking, being a bright, light green, and large for her face, with a pretty almond shape. Her fur, while mostly black all over, has a tiny smattering of white on her chest, not even enough to be called a locket, really hardly more than a few stray hairs, but still noticeable when you're standing in front of her.
Personality:
[Excitable][Talkative][Socially oblivious][Enthusiastic][Obsessive]
Spiderpaw is a wildly excitable cat. Though all young cats are usually pretty excitable, she takes this up to 11. She's easily roused into a state of pretty much bouncing off the walls in excitement, especially when it comes to her interests. She loves learning things, and is intensely curious about the world around her. Though she's enthusiastic about pretty much everything, she shows a special interest in two things- one, herbs and healing; two, bugs. Especially spiders, her namesake. She loves watching spiders crawl around camp, and finds them extremely interesting. Her interest doesn't keep her from eating them, however. Though other cats see it as pretty weird, Spiderpaw loudly proclaims her favourite food to be spiders. When she becomes interested in something, Spiderpaw is really, really interested in it. She can be incredibly relentless when she sets her mind to liking something. This is mostly bugs and herbs, and bugs and herbs are almost always on her mind. And as Spiderpaw almost always speaks her mind, Spiderpaw is incredibly talkative when it comes to her interests of bugs and herbs, and will chat your ear off about it for hours. She's rather socially oblivious, and the fact that most cats do not care about spiders and herbs completely evades her. Even when not talking about her specific interests, she's generally a chatty, friendly cat. But pretty much without fail, Spiderpaw will try to bring the conversation around so she can say something strange about bugs. She doesn't get why some cats don't like her, or think she's weird or unpleasant or avoid her. She doesn't especially mind cats not liking her, though, and she doesn't really seek their approval. Being ignored does bother her though, she she loved being the center of attention. She likes to show off, but Spiderpaw's idea of showing off doesn't really translate into things that most other cats find impressive. She's smart enough to tell that most other cats think bugs are creepy and gross, and she finds it fun to say things about bugs to intentionally weird out other cats, as any kind of reaction or attention is good to her. If cats are outright cruel or scornful of her, it does upset her though. Though she is okay without having too many friends, she doesn't want to be hated any more than any other cat. She likes to feel useful, and she throws herself enthusiastically into everything she does. Her excitement, while sometimes it can get out of hand and hinder her concentration, can usually be funneled into her doing her very best at whatever it is she is trying to do.
History:
Batty was a loner. She'd been born a loner, and her mother had been a loner. Now, loners don't keep much history, as they tend to go their own way at a young age, but as far back as Batty's mother knew, their family had always been loners. No kittypets, and no Clan cats. Not that Batty knew what a Clan cat was, really. Her mother told her there were "Clans", cats that lived in groups and had leaders, but the whole thing seemed ridiculous to Batty. She'd never seen more than four adult cats gathered together in one place. A whole group living together seemed unimaginable. But she hadn't ever known her mother to lie to her, so there wasn't much of a reason to argue. Anyway, Batty didn't expect she'd ever run into the so-called Clans.
When Batty was around seven or eight moons old, (she didn't really keep track of her age,) she decided to leave her mother and go off on her own, as her mother had done before her, and her mother before that. Batty didn't have any siblings, she had been the only kit in her litter. That wasn't unusual though, her mother told her. And it was nice being an only kit, it meant more food for her, as she didn't have to fight over every catch with other hungry kits. Away from her mother, Batty lived an average loner's life. She traveled, wandering from place to place, hunting for herself, and avoiding other cats for the most part. Eventually, she came upon a twoleg place. There were more cats there than there had been outside, in the fields and forests. She realized it had been rather lonely all on her own, and she began to become more social, hanging around other cats. She traveled farther into the twoleg place, into the deep alleys, where the cats were tougher, wilder. Her life before had been easy, but boring. Batty was young, she found excitement in the rough-and-tumble life of an alleycat. She got good at fighting, and hunting rats. She made friends, and allies. Eventually, she met a tom she liked. They talked, they shared ideas about how they would one day form a gang in the alleys, and control their own territory (though it was mostly just dreaming, never anything to be taken seriously.) And Batty found herself expecting his kits. Batty was excited to become a mother, though she was a little worried about how she would hunt and fight while having to take care of the kits. Her mate promised he would stay with her and take care of her while she needed it, and that he would hunt for her and keep her safe. Batty trusted him, and she believed him. When the time came, the kitting went smoothly for a first-time mother, and she gave birth to two little toms she named Rat and Beetle. Some might call these names "cruel", being named after bugs and prey, but Batty had no such intention. She was named after a bat (kind of), and found no shame in the name. She liked the names, and liked rats and beetles. Batty's mate lived up to his promises, bringing her prey to share while she nursed the kittens, and paroling around their den to keep other toms away. But one day, he went out hunting, and he didn't return. Batty waited, but his scent just grew staler by the day. She was worried, but her kits were nearly old enough to be weaned, so she was able to leave them for more time to go hunt for herself. She hadn't seen her friends in a while, but most of them had been aware of her pregnancy, and so didn't question where she'd been. She asked around if anyone had seen her mate, and eventually, one of her acquaintances confirmed what she'd feared- they'd seen his body lying by the side of the road, having been hit by a monster. Batty grieved, but with Rat and Beetle to care for, she couldn't allow herself too much moping around. As she spent more time outside her home, she got talking to another tom she had been acquainted with. He began to show interest in her, and she was glad to have another cat around who seemed to like her, as she missed her mate's company. But though Batty was tough, and had been around the alleys, she was naive about toms and how they were around kittens that weren't theirs. Her mother hadn't explained much to her before she left her side, hadn't given her the warning Batty bitterly wished she would have, afterwards. One day, Batty returned home from hunting, only to find the scent of blood overpowering her den. Horrified, she found the other tom standing over the bodies of her kits. He tried to explain, that he wanted them gone so that they could be together and she wouldn't be reminded of her old mate, and they could have their own kits, but Batty wouldn't hear any of his excuses. She attacked him, driving him out of her den. Filled with grief, she buried her kits in a nearby empty swath of grass and dirt between two twoleg dens.
After that experience, she decided to leave the twoleg place. While living among such cats had been fun and exciting for a while, losing her mate, and then her kits, had been sobering. She didn't want a dangerous life anymore. She grew to distrust other cats, especially toms. For moons, she lived as she had in the beginning after leaving her mother, just wandering, avoiding others. Occasionally, she met another cat, and would cautiously speak with them, but she never stayed near one cat for too long. For seasons, this worked fine for her. But eventually, she ended up being around a tom for a little too long, at the wrong time, and a little while later, she found herself expecting kits again. (What could she say, he had reminded her of her old mate.) She was worried, but less worried than she would have been if she had still been living in the twoleg place. She figured all she would have to do is find somewhere secluded, and avoid all other cats until her kits were old enough to take care of themselves. One this that did worry her, though, was that it was already late greenleaf. By the time her kits were born, it would be leaffall. But Batty had survived the cold season enough times by herself by now. She reassured herself it would be okay.
Before she got too big to travel, Batty set out to find a secluded place to raise her kits. Unfortunately for her, the direction she set out didn't lead her to seclusion away from other cats. It lead her right to the edge of Clan territory. But by the time she got there, it was too late to turn around and go far away. She would have to find somewhere near Clan territory to have her kits. She had been wandering in some kind of rocky desert for a few days, when she came across a place near a stream where it was lush, and despite the chill descending, there was still prey. It was much closer to the Clan territory than she had desired, but it was the best she could find. She found a space to make into a den, and Batty settled and prepared for her kits, and the cold.
The leaves had changed by the time Batty gave birth, this time to a single she-kit. Batty named her daughter Spider. Then frost came, and leafbare quickly sunk its claws into the landscape. Right away, Batty could tell this wasn't going to be an average cold season. She tried to hunt, to keep her strength up to provide milk for Spider, but prey quickly became scarce. As leafbare dragged on, she felt herself getting weaker, and watched as Spider's growth floundered and she grew thin. Batty was terrified for her kit. She didn't want to lose another kit, the first time it hadn't been her fault, it had been a horrible mistake and a horrible crime, but this time, if she lost her kit, it would be her fault for being unable to provide. Batty occasionally noticed as on the other side of the stream, groups of cats would pass, apparently marking their territory. Clan cats. Batty spent a lot of time alone, and a lot of time in her den as the weather was often too bad to even leave, and she would be to weak to hunt anyway. Alone, she remembered the stories she had heard of Clan cats. That they lived by a code. That they had magical cats who could heal. That they fed their old cats who couldn't hunt, and cared for queens. Of course, she'd also heard stories that they were brutal, warmongering, that they fought and ate bones. But Batty had lived in the alleys. She knew what brutality and chaos looked like. And those patrols she caught glimpses of, through the trees? That didn't look like chaos. It was the depth of leafbare when Batty made her decision. She was too weak, she could feel that she didn't have much longer. She could feel illness coming on, and she hadn't caught anything to eat in days. Her milk had stopped coming, Spider was crying weakly with hunger night and day (though she was now old enough to eat solid prey, but it wasn't like Batty had an abundance of that laying around.) With the last of her strength, she picked up Spider, and carried her through the place they had called home, and to the stream that marked the border between her and Clan territory. She curled around Spider, and waited, rubbing her to keep her warm. Eventually, she heard a rustling of pawsteps coming from the direction it always came, and quickly, Batty picked up Spider, and hopped across the frozen stream. Before the approaching patrol got close enough to see or smell her, she set Spider down. Whispering urgently, she told Spider that when the cats got close, to cry loudly and make sure they found her. Spider was confused, weak and dizzy with hunger, but she agreed to do what her mother said. Then, Batty was gone, back over the stream.
When the patrol got close, Spider remembered what her mother had told her, and let out a wail as loud as she could. She remembers being surrounded by muttering figures, who argued back and forth for a while, and then being scooped up and carried away. The next thing she remembers is being in a den, being poked and prodded, and a warm belly that smelled kinda like her mother's in that it smelled like milk and warmth, but also entirely different and was most certainly not hers. But it did have milk, and she drank. She remembers being asked if she could talk, if she knew her name. And she remembers murmuring "I'm 'Pider." The next little while is a blur, but she came to know that her name was now Spiderkit, and she lived somewhere called MarshClan now.
Spiderkit had been about two or three moons old when she had been found and taken to MarshClan. Eventually, all memories of her original mother faded to hazy impressions of golden eyes in a dark face looming down at her, and a warm scent surrounding her. She grew up as a Clan kit, along with other Clan kits. Though as she got older, she began to understand that some cats resented her for being an extra mouth to feed in leafbare, as newleaf finally broke, the muttering began to die down. Spiderkit, who had taken a liking to the medicine cat's den almost as soon as she was allowed to wander around camp, is just reaching her sixth moon, and expects to become a 'paw any day now. Though Larchface is young and has only recently become a medicine cat, it is expected that Spiderkit will become her apprentice. Some cats may think it's wrong to appoint a non-Clanborn cat to such a rank, but as the Clan suffered so many losses, aversion to non-Clanborn cats seems to have gone down. Spiderkit desperately wants to be Larchface's apprentice, and hasn't made it a secret, as she has been bringing it up whenever she can to Larchface and Applestar in the past moon.
(Note- Batty traveled as far away from Clan territory as she could and died after leaving Spider.)
Check 1: [x] Leah
Check 2: [x] Cobalt
