Post by spike on Jan 11, 2010 20:03:16 GMT -6
Name:
Grasswhisker
Age:
78 moons
Gender:
Tom
Clan:
SkyClan
Rank:
Elder
Mate/Crush:
Formerly Cindertail
Kin:
Russet-tail (father, deceased)
Cloverpelt (mother, deceased)
Deerpaw (sister, deceased)
---
Grouseclaw (son)
Meadowpaw (son, deceased)
Misfur (son)
Graykit (son, deceased)
Slatekit (son, deceased)
Poofkit (son, deceased)
Stormpelt (son)
Pebblepaw (son, deceased)
Sagepaw (daughter)
Description:
Once he would've been seen as a fine warrior. But aging turns the body into a mere mass of formal glory. Today, Grasswhisker looks more wilted than anything else. He is covered in a coppery tabby pelt. The stripes are a thick black shade that stands out well. The fur on his jaw and lower chest are white, mostly from age. They had once been spots when he was a kit but they spread out and grew into a sign of true distance from birth.
He had a fine build, or what was once a nice warrior's body. His posterior is now larger from his anterior. That comes from his elder life. Eating and lack of exercise caused slight weight gain and so his muscle mass has fallen and his fat mass increased. Not a fine way to show one's former strength. He has thick paws but they are not wide. His claws are thin and sharp but not thick and strong. His fighting always did rely on his fangs. Wispy whiskers stretch from his features as well. The stripes seem to point an arrow down the darker bridge of his nose along his rounded head. Two ears are awkwardly large triangles on his head, bare from fur and warmth. That also came with age.
Grasswhisker's nose is a dark, very dusty looking pink color that blends with his whole being. His muzzle is small in comparison to the rest of his body. The last part, his eyes, is an extremely pale shade. It is a fine light green that is more like mist rather than eyes. The dark pupils are endless black holes that penetrate the lightness of his eyes.
Personality:
Grasswhisker never really needed to speak words to get his point across. He is firm with his family, especially his kits, but he has a side to him that is quite sweet.
He did pass down his sincerity to Grouseclaw. Lying is a foolish mistake to make and he always remembers that when he thinks of his sister, Deerpaw. He tries to pass this onto everybody but has learned that even the most willing cat will not follow true truthfulness to the end.
Second- he's quiet. As said before, he can give off waves of his feelings without even trying to say a word. It's easy to tell how he feels and many have leanred that it is best to not bother making him mad. That can end up badly for some cats.
But lastly, he's always been a dreamer. He thinks too far into the future and tends to ignore the present. When he was young, all he saw were the days of being a mentor, of being a warrior, of being a father. Today, he imagines his life in StarClan though he is far away from joining them. He gets highly annoyed when Grouseclaw attempts to speak his lack of faith in StarClan and hopes that his own faith will get him there. When younger, he might not've believed in them but as an elder, there seems to be no other place to escape to.
History:
Russet-tail and Cloverpelt were not the best of warriors. Russet-tail was clumsy and dumb while Cloverpelt was nervous and jumpy. Nobody thought they'd produce a fine litter of kits. And they probably wouldn't have if Grasskit hadn't been born. Deerkit, the sister born alongside the tom, was dim like their father. She was a dreamer and often could be seen content with gazing at a sluggishly passing cloud. That was the opposite of the natural kit Grasskit was. He tumbled and played and listened to stories, but he also learned. He grew intelligent from a thirst for knowledge. Cloverpelt never disagreed with it but seemed to realize the difference of her male kit.
So the kit days were pretty boring. His sister was too foolish to understand more than simple things, this went for his father too, and then Cloverpelt always said, “that’s nice, that’s nice.” Grasskit felt he was too much for them and started to turn them away. Oh no, they never turned on him. He turned on them. This later would hurt him greatly.
Grasskit was morphed into Grasspaw, a silently over-confident tom with a nose for knowledge. His mentor saw his arrogant nature and tried to round him out one day. She told him that family was always family and the Clan was always the Clan. One of the two wouldn’t last long. Grasspaw just turned his nose away at that and tried to work on something else. Fighting, hunting, patrolling, anything to get his mind off of those words. One of the two won’t last long.
Deerpaw stayed young and joyous which resulted in a downfall. She had come to trust an outside cat. A little rogue she-cat that gained her friendship. This was her mistake because Deerpaw had welcomed the newcomer into camp without permission. Once inside, the rogue went mad. She slew her supposed friend first. That was Deerpaw. Then she attempted to attack another. She hardly got that far before being chased off. Grasspaw had been the first to his sister’s side. Russet-tail and Cloverpelt weren’t far behind. She bawled about that stupid mistake and that was when the light struck through the darkness that clouded him. Grasspaw softened himself and told her she had been intelligent. Now the Clan knew of the rogue and could get her away from the Clan. She saved SkyClan.
She believed her brother before passing away. Grasspaw never forgave himself for turning on her. They were ten moons and he had come to treat her more like an enemy rather than a sister. He was taken to the medicine cat den to receive some herbs to help him rest. It was supposed to calm him but it was the words that were spoken to the tom, half-drunk on some seeds.
”Oh, Deerpaw,” the slight tom whispered. The medicine cat was working back and forth to organize the herbs until Grasspaw finally slept. But she seemed to realize what was wrong with him: pure guilt.
“Do not fret, Grasspaw,” she confidently spoke. “Deerpaw has a place in StarClan.”
“StarClan?” he scoffed with an odd roll to his words. “Please! StarClan doesn’t exist. They show no pity on cats like us if they did.”
“Did they not show pity?” she chuckled at him. “They did, Grasspaw. You’ll come to see in time that they did.”
Grasspaw would later come to realize that the pity shown on a cat was for him. They pitied his life, his loss of family caused by his own mistake. So they took away Deerpaw who probably would’ve had no use in the Clan anyways and gave him his mother and father back. It was then that Grasspaw was given a belief. He worked hard for the last two moons of apprenticeship but a torn muscle slowed that down to almost nothing. He earned his warrior name at his fourteenth moon with a limp still to his gait. He was now Grasswhisker. He had to share his warrior ceremony with a she-cat named Cindertail. So open now, he welcomed her right after the vigil. Her sweet voice instantly started a bout of love in the tom’s heart.
They were barely out into warriorhood when Grasswhisker gave her the best gift of all: kits. He wanted all the kits to have glowing russet fur like his. It was the day before his kits were born that his parents were found dead. It was not a sad death, merely old age and ill health that caught up to them. Grasswhisker did not cry because he believed StarClan needed to make sure there were lives to be given to his new kits. Oddly enough, two were born. Grousekit and Meadowkit, both boys, both his sons.
Grasswhisker hardly remembers his first born son’s life. He felt proud to watch the tom grow into a fine warrior. Meadowpaw was slain by a badger which added to a load of pain on his shoulders but Grasswhisker, again, sided with the belief in StarClan that all things happen for a reason. Grouseclaw was now named and for Grasswhisker it was a fine time. Until realization kicked in. Grouseclaw was twenty-two moons and sharing a den with Grasswhisker and Cindertail. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Grasswhisker knew that he couldn’t be the father of a full-grown warrior. Not yet. He was able to convince his mate into having another litter. He was thirty-nine moons and now he was the proud father of more kits.
All were sons but he never let that lower his chin. Graykit and Mistkit looked like Cindertail but it didn’t bother the older tom. It did sadden him when Graykit passed but Mistkit went on. Once he was sure that Mistpaw would be okay, turned into an apprentice now, he requested only more kits. Cindertail, having always adored the little fluffy bundles, agreed. This new litter had Cinderkit, Slatekit, and Poofkit. All were toms and all except Cinderkit passing into StarClan before apprenticeship.
This time, on the fourth litter, it was on Cindertail’s calling. Grasswhisker assumed he had enough kits to be an extremely proud father but she came to miss the nursery. So he granted her with that and the news was told to Mistfur, Grouseclaw, and Cinderpaw. This litter consisted of two toms, Pebblekit and Stormkit. Grasswhisker was fifty-eight moons by this point. He felt extremely satisfied by the birth of all his sons. Both of these two went on to be apprentices though he had to witness Pebblepaw pass away.
All four of his sons, Grouseclaw, Mistfur, Cinderclaw, and Stormpelt, were the pride of his life. Cindertail was getting old but so was Grasswhisker. Now it was Cindertail’s turn to feel the rush of “too young for this.” She wanted one last litter before joining the elders. Grasswhisker was uncertain and it took a while to accomplish this feat. They were aging and it was hard to conceive but it was a success. At seventy moons old, Sagekit, the only kit and his only daughter, was born. Cindertail had been too old though. She was used to kitting but her body could not handle it. She just seemed to be like a flower that withered away.
When she passed, Grasswhisker took the most pride in his daughter. Cindertail had watched all of her sons grow to be warriors. Now there was only Sagekit left, the one kit she’d have to watch from StarClan. He retired to the elder’s den only about two moons ago at seventy-five moons. He just felt that he couldn’t keep up with it anymore. He despises Grouseclaw’s distance, he likes Mistfur’s calm, he worries for Cinderclaw’s sanity, he shakes his head at Stormpelt’s laziness, and he hopes that Sagepaw finds her place among it all. For now, sitting as an elder is all he can do. He just hopes StarClan shows the same pity on his family as they did on him.
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