Post by - - t i d e on Jun 13, 2008 20:35:12 GMT -5
τ ω i s т є я
Û Ý Ü
[/size]leader of southclan
alias
twisterstar
chromos
xy, male
experience
thirty-one moons
loyalty
southclan
authority
leader
magic
caelum
appearance
coming soon
personality
coming soon
history
[/font][/font]Twisterstar's story really begins many moons before his birth, with the birth of a tom before him in SouthClan- Thunderkit. Under the parentage of two lowly Laborers, it was not surprising when Thunderkit was born frail, skinny and already broken from escaping the womb. His obvious lack of health struck his parents, who shunned him from the rest of their perfect litter, turning to their other kits to redeem their names in the SouthClan hierarchy. Even in Thunderkit's birth, their disdain of him was obvious.
Thunderkit's parents were Stainedfur and Rosethorn, Laborers. Stainedfur was a hateful, scheming tom who uselessly could kill flowers just by touching them. Rosethorn was less nasty, a beautiful she-cat on the outside, and seemingly on the inside. However, beneath her outer shell of a kind heart, lurked a spite that linked Stainedfur and her with their jealousy of the higher ranks.
Under Glacierstar's rule, the ranks were strictly enforced and discriminated against. Laborers were forbidden to look any Elite Warrior, Leader, Deputy or Medicine Cat in the eye, and they could not speak casually to Warriors. They could also only mate within their rank. This caused great turbulence from the Laborers in their field of obedience, for the naive Glacierstar was predictably lacking the wisdom a leader should possess.- - - - -
Stainedfur sighed, looking over the patchy SouthClan territory, the typically multicolored sky summoning images of crashing storms and turbulent winds in his mind- the cat he could have been, the cat he might've been, had it not been for the lowly ability StarClan had cursed him with. A pulse of anger beat through his blood, and the silver tabby willed himself to whisper a fury-backed statement of disdain towards his ancestors before slipping his yellow gaze downwards to the small pile of prey that rested between his forepaws.
Laboring. Caring for the Clan. It was the only thing he had ever done in his god forsaken life. Ever since he had pressed his paw into that d**ned wall, amongst the others of the four Clans with his young heart bursting with misleading excitement, he had never seen action more than a small border skirmish in which the Elitists usually ran in with their burning claws and bulging muscles to take care of the business that Stainedfur longed to manage on his own.
His life was repetitive, no adventure, no excitement. Just constant work, work, work- and when not working, he was being bored out of his mind, biting his tongue to hold back a spit of bile at Glacierstar as the moronic she-cat assigned only the Warriors and Elite Warriors to the duties that would have put some spice in Stainedfur's own life.
"Stainedfur! The- the kits! They're coming!"
The warrior's call crackled across the territory as he sped towards him, legs blurring as he darted easily through the thicket of moors. It was Divingbird, the white-and-brown warrior as skinny as a naked tree in the wintertime that had been one of the few warriors to win over Stainedfur's respect, although it had mostly been succeeded by the fact that he was the brother of Stainedfur's mate.
Exhilaration exploded in the tom's heart, and in an instant he had his prey reburied and his own legs pumping with much more difficulty than his brother-in-law in the opposite direction towards the camp. Divingbird slowed to run beside Stainedfur, although his agitation to streak back towards camp with his breakneck speed was obvious. The silence between the two toms seemed to hold some sort of communication- Stainedfur, although he was a dud, could easily analyze Divingbird's fright by the scent that clouded the tom's usual carefree and clear one.
What could be wrong? Stainedfur's worry shook his legs as he ran, biting his bottom lip to prevent his mouth from visibly trembling. Concern flooded Stainedfur's body, making him feel sticky and clogged inside, which only made him run faster.
Finally, the two toms skidded into the mostly abandoned camp. It was a beautiful day, after all- with the sun shining and the random weather having subdued for now, most SouthClanners were making a mad dash out of camp to savor the perfection while they could.
"The nursery," Divingbird said hurriedly, his breath steady and even despite the distance he had just run, in complete opposite to Stainedfur's labored breathing that plagued his body with the reminder of the damage to his lungs from getting caught in the forest fire last green-leaf.
Nodding, unable to reply through his strained gasps, Stainedfur stumbled clumsily into the well-sheltered den. Lying in the center, Rosethorn lay in an odd position, with Neontwist leaning over her, his eyes closed in concentration with his forehead making contact with the solid silver she-cat belly
Divingbird took a seat off to the side, while Stainedfur watched, stricken with horror and fear. Rosethorn convulsed violently while Neontwist put out a paw to steady her. The laborer shook his head slowly, feeling Rosethorn's own pain echoing through his body just from being near her. The sheer force of it was enough to force him to sit despite his longing to stay standing.
Then the first kit finally slid out, and the pain cut off. Stainedfur let out a small breath in relief, but that was short lived as Rosethorn let out a yowl of pain, and he had to turn away in cowardice as she continued her labored... labor. His head grew mottled and dizzy, the sight before him fuzzing out. Then... nothing.
"Look at this one... he's so..."
"Ugly?"
Stainedfur opened his eyes, slowly pulling himself to his paws. He was still in the Nursery, and Neontwist had gone. Rosethorn lay with her nursing kits while Divingbird examined their squirming bodies- to his relief, Stainedfur noticed all four of them were perfectly healthy, despite their strenuous birth.
"Rosethorn, are you alright?" he asked, despite that she obviously was, with a smile playing across her beautiful face as she looked up at him. Then- worry panged numbly at Stainedfur's heart as he saw the nervous anticipation behind his mate's amber eyes.
The tom's eyes widened as he saw the scrunched figure of a fifth kit, his tiny body almost microscopic compared to his larger siblings. Not only was he tiny, but his legs were skinny, and he appeared that if the slightest touch would cause him to fall apart. Dread leaked into Stainedfur's heart- this tom was ugly, horrible, pathetic! He was not the Elite Warrior he hoped all of his kits to succeed to be, he was not the tom that would redeem his own and his mate's name to the Clan as something more than lowly laborers.
Rosethorn traced Stainedfur's eyes to their frail son, the same dislike reflected in her own optics, although it was obvious that she was trying as hard as she could to love the midget as she did the rest of her litter. "I've decided to call him Thunderkit."
Thunderkit. Stainedfur mouthed the words, rolling them over his tongue, hating the kit even more. That name- Thunderkit- was a name he did not deserve. It was too strong for such a useless being... but he did not protest his mate. Instead, Stainedfur could only stare at Thunderkit, his loathing growing the more he looked.- - - - -
It was inevitable that Thunderkit's kithood would be less pleasant than his four siblings, whom soon bore the names Bravekit, Roaringkit, Chaoskit, and Heliumkit. The first few moons of his life he was in and out of the Medicine Cat's den with shaking illnesses that weakened his already frail and sickly form. Because of this, Thunderkit made great friends with the young Medicine Cat, Neontwist, in no time. The two formed a brotherly bond despite their large age differences.
The other only friend the frail Thunderkit shared was his uncle Divingbird, whom the young kit held an eerie resemblance to; if Thunderkit had not been so fragile-looking, the two might have been identical. Divingbird, unlike his spiteful sister, enjoyed the young Thunderkit for his imperfection and humility. Divingbird's heart was untainted by envy like Rosethorn and Stainedfur, and did not mind his nephew's cons.
During most of his kithood days, Thunderkit would sit on the edges of camp, watching the trees whisper to one another in the wind and observing nature as it traveled its course. When he was only three moons of age, he sneaked out of camp while his parents fawned over their perfect four, climbing a short baby willow to watch the lightning touch down in the badlands and the smoke from dotting forest fires rise up into the contrasting blue roof of a sky.
He was, not surprisingly, an outcast amongst his fellows. His siblings were spoiled and coddled with their parents' love, the two Laborers feeding their kits endless love for their own selfish desires for power. Stainedfur was determined that his four wonderful kits would all be elite warriors, and when one became leader, he would no longer be stepped on as a lowly Laborer under Glacierstar's discriminating rule.
His four siblings' favorite past times were bullying Thunderkit to no end, and when not taking his advantage of his pathetic stature, they were shunning him for his weakness. As soon as he was weaned, Thunderkit was abandoned by his mother's warm body, which was too preoccupied with keeping her other kits from freezing their perfect little toes off in the harsh leaf-bare.
Then came their fifth moon, when their powers would start to be revealed. Stainedfur and Rosethorn anticipated this moment since they had learned Rosethorn was expecting, and had Heliumkit, Chaoskit, Roaringkit and Bravekit practice fight every evening in hopes that these battles would expose their kits' destinies.
Thunderkit would watch from the sidelines with tear-filled eyes as his father and mother gazed lovingly at their four, while he received occasional glances of pure disgust. He never expected join into one of the small skirmishes until Heliumkit dislocated his forepaw, and he had to be a fill-in for the tournament.- - - - -
Thunderkit's eyes widened, the caterpillar creeping across the ground being stomped out by an uncaring foot. His golden orbs turned upwards to take in the cruel face of Chaoskit, his brother's unforgiving amber eyes bearing down on Thunderkit with nothing short of disdain.
"Father says you're going to help us practice fight,," Chaoskit hissed below his breath- it wasn't a question, nor a suggestion, and certainly not a playful invitation. It was a cold command, and one of those things that Thunderkit had grown accustomed to; it came with the package of being stepped on and walked over to no end.
Nodding quietly, Thunderkit shakily got to his paws. His ankle seemed to explode with pain, and he glanced worriedly to the Medicine Cat den, hoping that Neontwist stood at the entrance to protest to this. But he was not, and Thunderkit quietly followed his brother, knowing that he would not be able to argue his case without Divingbird or Neontwist for support.
He felt his stomach churn with nerves as he arrived to the small clearing where Bravekit and Roaringkit were locked in ferocious battle, Heliumkit yowling on Bravekit from the sidelines while Stainedfur watched his two kits with intense concentration, searching for any hint of any miraculous power. As Thunderkit wobbled into the scene, Bravekit and Roaringkit broke away from each other and, panting, headed towards the small river nearby camp for a drink. Heliumkit followed at their heels, limping slightly.
"You're going to suck," Bravekit sneered tauntingly as he whisked by Thunderkit, being sure to give him a knock in the shoulder that made the skinny tom trip a few feet. The only thing that caught him from falling head-over-heels was Stainedfur's gray paw blocking his chest.
Thunderkit gulped nervously; he did not doubt his brother's words. He could only close his eyes and wait for the embarassment of being easily defeated by Chaoskit to finish crashing through his life, just like everything else. He looked down at his small, unsteady paws and noticed how pathetic they looked beside Chaoskit's strong, wide ones.
"Fight it out as strong as you possibly can," Stainedfur said coldly, and Thunderkit looked expectingly at his father for some yowl of encouragement or praise, as he had seen him do to brothers several times. But Stainedfur's eyes remained locked, stony and hard, with Thunderkit's before agitation and impatience got the best of him, and he snapped, "Get on the ring, moron!"
Quickly, obediently, and somewhat shaken, Thunderkit dragged himself to where Chaoskit waited, poised and ready. The harsh insult from Stainedfur bruised Thunderkit's heart, and he bit back tears as he stared at the ground, locked up in trying to keep himself from fleeing. Stainedfur let out a yowl, and he felt Chaoskit knock him down.
Terror pulsed through Thunderkit and he attempted a squeal, only to find the air had been knocked away from him and he could not utter a noise. The memory of his siblings' battles came to mind and he flailed his skinny hind legs, jabbing his brother in the stomach. Chaoskit hissed as his brother's bony foot pushed into his belly and the slender tom slid away, scrambling to be prepared, only for Chaoskit to hook onto his flanks and shove him down onto his back again.
The black tom pressed his belly against Thunderkit's to prevent him from kicking, while also keeping him from breathing. Thunderkit squirmed in panic, and he felt tears choking in his throat. He was going to die if he could not breath soon! He pulled his lips back over his sharp, tiny teeth and snapped at Chaoskit, pinching his brother's face. Blood spurted from indentations in the opposing kit's face, and angrily, Chaoskit pressed his forepaws into Thunderkit's jawbone, claws unsheathing.
At first, the claws just felt like hard lumps in his face that just happened to pinch as well, nothing compared to the pain that Thunderkit had experienced on many occasions from his numerous broken bones and injuries that he had received. But then, the claws grew hot, and began to burn him. The heat was agnozing, horrifying, and Thunderkit could smell his own fur charring away.
"D-DADDY!" he shrieked, his voice filled with horror and helplessness. Thunderkit's heart pounded in his ears, tears streaking down his face as he squirmed, straining his eyes to look at Stainedfur, whom was staring with excitement scrawled across his face. "H-HELP M-M-ME!"
But Stainedfur shook his head wildly and spun on his heels, letting out an ear-splitting yowl, "ROSETHORN! DIVINGBIRD! COME QUICK! CHAOSKIT IS IGNATIUS!" Turning back to Choaskit, who looked overjoyed and proud, Stainedfur exclaimed lovingly, "Keep it up, son. Glacierstar has to see this!"
Thunderkit let out a soggy gasp, the pain pulsing through his jawbone, accompanied with the cold, miserable horror that Stainedfur ignored his cries for help so easily. The young tom squirmed, but Chaoskit's claws stayed rooted in stubbornly. Three cats charged on scene- Rosethorn, Divingbird and Neontwist.
"Divingbird, go get Glacierstar from the patrol!" ordered Stainedfur, forgetting in his apprehension that laborers were never to order a warrior. But Divingbird listened anyway, giving a helpless sideways glance at the sobbing Thunderkit as he rocketed off.
"Oh... my baby! This is wonderful!" exclaimed Rosethorn, making googly-eyes at her son. But Neontwist curled his upper lip, staring nastily at Stainedfur with eyes burning with spite.
"What is wrong with you? Your kit is in pain- you are nothing short of a terrible father!" Neontwist yowled furiously, the black-and-white tom with luminous green eyes staring witheringly into Stainedfur's furious eyes.
The gray tabby bristled, pulling up his own lips and retorting, "Don't you tell me how to father my children!"
Neontwist raised an unsheathed forepaw, bringing it across Stainedfur's face without a moment of hesitation, the paw colliding with bone while being accompanied with a sickening crack. "You do not tell me what to do, you lowly laborer!" Stainedfur crumpled in submission, and Neontwist turned on his heels, over to Chaoskit and Thunderkit in a second. He grabbed Chaoskit ruffly by the scruff, tossing him like a ragdoll across the clearing, the tom's claws raking Thunderkit's face as he rebelliously attempted to hang on. Rosethorn cried out and dove for Chaoskit.
Thunderkit shrieked in pain as his boiling blood leaked down his face, and as he did so, he could scent Glacierstar, her patrol and Divingbird returning to camp. Divingbird called his name and he could feel his uncle's gentle tail against his flank, while Glacierstar demanded what had happened. Neontwist's voice crashed in his ears as he began to explain, but whatever he had said, Thunderkit did not know, because consciousness had left him before he could hear.- - - - -
Thunderkit bore the scars of the attack forever. Shaken by the event, he had lost almost all sociality, the only soles he dared to utter a word to being Divingbird and Neontwist. Divingbird had grown furious at his sister for her selfishness, and the warrior had denounced her, dedicating the time he had once spent with her to being the father figure Thunderkit never had. Still, he knew he could never be a real father to the young, misguided tom.
At his sixth moon, Thunderkit and his siblings were brought to the Wall of Fates by Neontwist, Glaciertwist and the deputy, Firespin. Heliumkit was to be a warrior, while Chaoskit, Bravekit and Roaringkit were destined to be Elite Warriors. To nobody's surprise, Thunderkit's pawprint glowed a deep green- laborer. The only thing he dreaded of this was that he would have to share a den with his parents after his training was complete.
Thunderpaw's mentor was an elderly laborer, a rough-and-tumble she-cat by the alias of Featherdancer, whose name was too dainty to truly be fit to her. During one of their first training sessions, Thunderpaw was too shy and intimidated to even utter a single syllable. But oh no, Featherdancer had none of that- within only a moon of their mentor and apprentice relationship, she had gotten Thunderpaw babbling never-endingly to her.
Featherdancer became the mother Thunderpaw had never had, and inevitably, was clung too closely by the young tom when he was not the shadow of either Neontwist or Divingbird. Slowly, Thunderpaw was shedding his cocoon, Featherdancer watching with motherly pride as the tom she called her son began to catch up with the strengths of the other apprentices.
As it turned out, Featherdancer had once been a mother herself. Her mate was an Elite Warrior, back in the days before Glacierstar had ruled- or wreaked, as some may say- and they had one single kit, a bursting ball of mischief and energy whom had been given the name Flurrykit. Flurrykit was always eager to explore, and while Featherdancer had been sleeping, sneaked out of camp. The young tom had died a painful death at the hungry jaws of a badger, his body being discovered by a frantic Featherdancer the next morning. Brokenhearted, she had sworn to never have another son.
But Thunderpaw had won over her heart, and her better judgment. However, like most things in the young tom's life, it was not long before something terrible occurred. By this point in life, Thunderpaw was already assuming himself a jinx, if not a lowly dud.
One calm green-leaf afternoon, SouthClan was invaded by WestClan. The fight was violent and immense, leaving both sides shaken after the fray had ended; every cat had fought, from the frailest elder to the strongest elite warrior, desperate to defend their borders from the attackers. In the end, SouthClan triumphed, but not without a cost.
Chaospaw, Roaringpaw and Bravepaw had lost their lives in the skirmishes, and later, Rosethorn soon followed from depression and a leg infection. Glacierstar lost two lives in the process, while the deputy, Firespin, had died a quite brutal death. Heliumpaw had been one of the fiercest fighters and emerged from the battle, not the same fun-loving kit, but a weathered warrior- Heliumfire.
During the midst of battle, Thunderpaw nearly lost his life, only to be saved by Heliumfire- and in turn, saved his brother only moments later, when Heliumfire overcharged and passed out. Thunderpaw also received his full name; Thunderbird, laborer of SouthClan. But, just as everything did in the invasion, it came with a price.
Featherdancer had fallen late in the battle, weathering for longer than Thunderbird thought she would with the immenseness of her injuries. She had fought strongly for a laborer, and despite her heroic efforts, she was honored little; which infuriated Thunderbird, not surprisingly.
Early on into Thunderbird's moons as a laborer, he stumbled across a tragic event ripping across the Badlands- a lightning-caused forest fire, swallowing everything in its path; including a small group of loners and nomads that had called the minuscule portion of land off of SouthClan's border their home.
And with that fire came the hysteric screams for help as Thunderbird, struggling between helping the helpless and running back to camp to warn the Clan, made a decision that would begin the legacy of Twisterstar.- - - - -
"HELP!"
Thunderbird wasn't sure what had made him run into the fire that day, although he had a hunch it had to do with the terrified cries of a she-cat from within the hungry flames; her voice, splitting through the crackling, crunching sparks, rising higher than the embers that hovered into the hazy gray canvas of a sky. Or, perhaps, it was the steadiness and power of her voice despite being shaken with fear; as if, even in the face of death, she still bared her teeth and let loose her claws to battle it head-on. Whatever reason, he had sprinted off into the fire without a second though after he caught the she-cat's call over the stretching crimson and daffodil, legs pumping as if he were racing death himself.
The fire was hot, scraping his pelt and clawing at his weak, thin skin below said overcoat. Thunderbird took a shuddery breath that proved little use, most oxygen clouded with the toxic gas that emitted from the fumes of the fire. His eyes burned and hot, boiling tears streaked down his face and he blinked furiously as ashes danced into his optics. He ran, blindly, and felt his paws fly from under him, his frail body crumpling onto the ground where he had fallen.