Nettlefur ; SC warrior

"Max" by syngrapha, on Flickr

The thing most cats first notice about Nettlefur is his eyes, which he inherited from his father. They are green and pale, and flickering with a fierce light. The next thing they notice is probably his stature. Large and somewhat imposing, the tom is tall and muscular, in a way that suggests he's been in more than a few battles. This is further supported by the scars that line his shoulders, legs, and back, including three long claw marks that score over his left eye.

His back, shoulders, and much of his face are all a fiery ginger color, while his chest, front paws, a splotch or two on his face, and a stripe near the very end of his tail are snowy white. Altogether, he's a regal kind of figure, standing tall and proud as if he disdains those who can't match his way of carrying himself. Alert and responsive, Nettlefur is in fact quite likeable to many, at least at first glance. The more perceptive, or the more disillusioned, may notice the suspiciousness that lurks right underneath his charming attitude and stoic air.

Nettlefur is a relatively handsome tom, but it can be hard to look past the light in those eyes he got from his father, or the scars on his body. But don't worry, he's only dangerous to some.

Nettlefur is the type to approach life as if nothing could possibly faze him. He brushes off insults and offenses like nothing's happened, waving away apologies and saying they're not necessary. And indeed, he doesn't think much of slights against himself. Slights against the leader or deputy, now those, he might think something of. And slights against StarClan are virulently offensive to him. Nettlefur has a fervent belief in and dedication to StarClan, to the point where he may have been suited to become a medicine cat rather than a warrior. The isolated lifestyle of a medicine cat, however, was not his style, and so he went through the typical apprenticeship. Nevertheless, his beliefs are still strong.

Cool, collected, and gentlemanly, Nettlefur is a charming tom, a cat with an aristocratic bearing if there ever was one. He carries himself with a proud air, and he is proud, of his heritage and his way of life. The Clans are the most noble paths of life for a cat, and ShadowClan is, of course, the greatest of them all. He is quite civil to his clanmates, with particular respect given to Specklestar, Icepelt, and Feathercloud for keeping the Clan together. Nettlefur is an unabashed classist in that sense; StarClan is at the top of his hierarchy of power, followed by the leaders and medicine cat of the Clan, then loyalty to his clanmates. Rounding out the bottom of the list are cats outside of clans, who he considers a hedonistic bunch not worth his time.

That said, if a loner were to express interest in joining a Clan, and show a willing readiness to actually learn their customs, Nettlefur would respect that. While there is no question in his mind that the Clan way of life is superior to that of loners, he is willing to accept that there may be the occasional loner who is suited to become a Clan cat. Prejudice is not about blood to him, but about lifestyle; a Clan cat who breaks the warrior code is just as bad as, if not worse than, a cat born a loner. As for half-Clan cats, he finds the idea of mating outside of the Clan morally wrong, but he will not hold a kit responsible for his or her parents' actions.

Although he is, comparatively, less prejudiced than a number of ShadowClan cats, Nettlefur has no patience or sympathy for traitors. If someone were to betray ShadowClan in any significant way, or in some cases, even in a small way, he wouldn't forgive them.

And one will find that Nettlefur can be quite ruthless to those he doesn't forgive.

Once upon a time, there was a ShadowClan tom known as Creepereye. Creepereye was a proud, handsome young cat, intent on seeing his bloodline continue, but all of the she-cats avoided him due to his extremely intimidating demeanor. (Even by ShadowClan standards, Creepereye was... well, creepy.) What was he to do? He searched all through the Clan for someone who could potentially carry his kits.

The search seemed to be fruitless. Then, one day, he met Sillygoose, the ditziest she-cat in all of ShadowClan. At last, there was someone who didn't fear Creepereye, mostly because she was too oblivious to notice his maniacal laughter as they walked in the moonlight.

Sillygoose may not have been a genius, but she served her purpose well -- she soon gave birth to a litter of four kits. This was potentially problematic, as it was Leaf-bare; weather was cold and prey was scarce. Creepereye, being his creepy self, decided to take matters into his own hands.

Three of the four kits were dark brown tabbies, like their mother, while the other one took after his father. So Creepereye figured he would kill the three tabby kits, thus giving the Clan fewer mouths to feed and removing any contamination from the bloodline. He managed to carry out his mission while everyone was out of the queens' den for a Clan meeting.

"What happened?" Sillygoose cried in shock upon returning, rushing over to her kits.

"Uh... well, I was just checking up on them, and it turns out these three are dead," replied Creepereye awkwardly. "You know, it's Leaf-bare and all, so probably from sickness, or starvation, or... something..."

Well, Sillygoose, not being the brightest she-cat around, believed him. Unfortunately for Creepereye, her father Whippersnapper did not. And so one morning, while they were on patrol, Whippersnapper shoved Creepereye onto the Thunderpath, where he was hit by a car. Not long afterward, Sillygoose died while out hunting -- she fell out of a tree. No one is completely sure how this happened.

The one surviving kit of Creepereye and Sillygoose, Nettlekit, grew up half raising himself and half living with another queen in the nursery. From an early age, he was captivated by lore of StarClan and the ancient leaders, and if there hadn't already been a medicine cat apprentice, he may have filled the position. As it was, in time, he became an apprentice. His mentor, a strict and honorable warrior named Uglyface, instilled in him a sense of duty and loyalty to his Clan. Though initially reluctant to fight, Nettlepaw got over the issue and became a quick-learning, good student.

Nettlepaw became Nettlefur, fighting in the Battle of Red River and proving his worth as a loyal warrior of ShadowClan. For many moons, things went well. Then, recently, two kits sneaked out of camp and proudly brought a rat back for the Clan. Unfortunately, the rat was diseased. While at first it looked as if the disease had been quarantined, one of the kits who had caught the rat soon fell ill, and was quickly followed by its mother and a warrior. It wasn't long before a plague had decimated the Clan.

Nettlefur survived the outbreak of the plague, and unlike a lot of other cats, he didn't lose relatives because he didn't really have any family to begin with. He is sure the plague was a sign from StarClan. He just doesn't know what it meant.

But he'll find out.