Post by tempest on Mar 12, 2014 11:29:52 GMT -6
duckstep
and the arms of the ocean are carrying me
NAME:
AGE: 40 moons
GENDER: she-cat
CLAN: riverclan
RANK: deputy
and all this devotion was rushing out of me
SHORT DESCRIPTION:
a sleek brown tabby with warm amber eyes and a prominent limp
APPEARANCE:
Duckstep is a cat who is smaller than most of her RiverClan clanmates - more akin to a WindClan cat than a sleek and sophisticated RiverClanner. But, WindClan she is not, she is certainly a RiverClan cat, fur almost always soaked through from swimming in the river, paws with that particular shape and size - big paddles, perfect for tearing through the water. Her fur is short, and smooth, from all that swimming, and she takes pride in her appearance - who'd want to look like a scraggly ShadowClanner? Her fur is a myriad of browns, from a light colour similar to dry mud, to dark, barky colours. She has a small patch of white under her chin that bleeds down to halfway down her stomach, and two rings around her intense amber eyes. Her form would be almost perfect if not for her gait. Her hind leg sticks out oddly when sat, and even when she's stood it's fairly easy to tell where the break was, but she stands tall like the rest of her clan, not letting the break get to her.
and the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me
STRENGTHS:
- won't let anything, even her twisted leg, get her down
- fearless
- determined
- work-driven
- wise
WEAKNESSES:
- broken leg always aches in winter
- can be a bit over protective of her kits
- easy to grump
PERSONALITY:
Duckstep has been determined from the day she came out kicking and mewling. She was the first to open her eyes, the first to walk, to run, and the first to get herself into heaps of trouble whenever she could. Even when a fall broke her leg, she was always determined to get on her feet and move, much to the chagrin of the medicine cat - "Get back here, you bloody lump!" - because she wanted to be a warrior. She's fearless, but that's what got her in trouble in the first place, because curiosity almost killed the cat. However, because of her fearlessness, she's become wise. Getting into sticky situations has seriously helped shape her into looking before she leaps, because the amount of scrapes she's had to get herself and others out of she doesn't really care to count. She loves being a warrior, and going on patrols and hunting, even sneaking out to hunt whilst she was raising her kits, because no mother wants to be in the damned nursery all the time, right? She is a bit over protective of them, and anyone else younger than her, but that's maternal instinct and her duty as deputy coming into play. She can be easy to annoy and grump up, but her scowl is worse than any words she'd throw at anyone, because no matter how miserable you are, you should never take it out on others.
but the arms of the ocean delivered me
MOTHER: Grebefeather - A small brown and white she-cat with brownish eyes - Deceased
FATHER: Ospreyclaw - A large brown and white tom with green eyes - Alive
SIBLINGS: Greyface - A handsome grey tom with amber eyes - Alive
Amberwing - Torbie she-cat with yellow eyes - Alive
Barkfoot - Large brown and white tom with yellow eyes - Deceased
Hawkheart - Pretty brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes - Alive
Weaselpaw - Sleek torbie she-cat with amber eyes - Deceased
MATE: Silvertail - Sleek silver tom with green-yellow eyes - Deceased
KITS: Ternpaw - Small silver tabby tom with amber eyes - Alive
Owlpaw - Small light coloured tabby she-cat with green eyes - Alive
Kestrelpaw - Small brown tabby tom with green eyes - Alive
Sparrowpaw - Small brown and white tabby tom with brown eyes - Alive
MENTOR: Lionfang - Large ginger tom with amber eyes - Deceased | Silvertail - Sleek silver tom with green-yellow eyes - Deceased
HISTORY:
It was strange to think that the skittish little Grebefeather would ever settle down, especially with such a tom as Ospreyclaw, but she did, and it was a happy union of large and small. It took them a while but Grebefeather decided to retire to the nursery, fat with Ospreyclaw's kits. They were excited, as any parents should be, but worried. Would a large tom result in large kits, too large for her to give birth to? Though they worried, the birth was good and easy and Grebefeather had six loud, healthy kits to look after. Duck-kit was the fourth alongside her twin sister, Hawk-kit, but by far she would be the loudest and most determined of the lot.
Though smaller than most of her siblings, Duck-kit was definitely the leader. They tottered after her, played the games she wanted to play, and so on. She was on top of the heap and she knew it and she never let anyone forget. A bossy little prissy pants she may have been, but she always owned up whenever she got the group into trouble and took the punishment, which she never really had to do, but did anyway.
Excitement rolled around in the form of their apprentice ceremony. Duck-kit became Duckpaw and was taken under the wing of Lionfang, a fearsome tom who took no stick from anyone and had protected the clan on many an occasion. She was in awe of him, in every sense of the word. She listened intently, wanting to beat her siblings to the punch and become warrior before them all, and it certainly looked as if it was headed that way.
But at ten moons, she and Weaselpaw went hunting alone and they both took a tumble. Weaselpaw landed on her head and her neck snapped, killing her, whilst Duckpaw landed roughly on her hind leg, breaking it. It took Lionfang and Weaselpaw's mentor, Flowerfur, several hours to find them and carry them back to camp. Duckpaw was confined to the medicine cat den and Weaselpaw was buried by the elders. Grebefeather, distraught, had a breakdown and blamed Duckpaw for Weaselpaw's death, and disowned her.
Grebefeather caught greencough and passed whilst Duckpaw was stuck in the medicine cat den as her leg healed, but she refused to back down and give up and just become an elder or the medicine cat apprentice. She wanted, no, needed, to become a warrior, to serve her clan and be useful and not another mouth to feed. By the time she had healed and left the medicine cat den, Lionfang had retired and a young and patient warrior, Silvertail, was assigned as her mentor. The pair of them didn't get on at first but eventually they clicked.
Duckpaw was sixteen moons when she became a warrior; Duckstep, named for her duck-like gait, but she was proud of herself. Her siblings had saved a space for her in the warriors den and she gratefully joined them. Not too long after she became a warrior, at eighteen moons she moved to the nursery. Gossip spread round the camp; who was the father? Duckstep and Silvertail announced that they had become mates, and all was well.
But, she gave birth early and no kits survived. She didn't even have the heart to name the poor things, letting the elders bury them and wallowing in her pity for a few weeks before she picked herself up and brushed herself off and carried on with her warrior duties. She was snappy and irritable for a while, but Silvertail helped her every wobbly step of the way and the two of them grew stronger as a couple, spending their time together and working hard, as any good RiverClan warrior would.
Duckstep mentored an apprentice in the year between kits; young Juniperpaw became Juniperclaw in five moons of training. She and Silvertail talked about having kits for another few moons bug it was a year after the birth of their first kits that Duckstep went to the nursery again. She was watched carefully, to make sure she didn't give birth early, but she was relaxed, happy, and felt it would all go right.
Duckstep gave birth to four kits, three sons and a daughter. She adored her kits and Silvertail was the attentive father he had promised he would be. Even her siblings popped into the nursery often to take over looking after them for an hour or two so Duckstep could exercise and stretch out her legs. The four kits were a handful but Duckstep was glad she hadn't had as many as her mother had; four was enough.
When her kits were four moons old, her brother, Barkfoot, and Silvertail were killed by a fox. The kits were distraught but Duckstep kept them going. After all, she had Greyface, Amberwing, Hawkheart and her father Ospreyclaw to look after her, to keep her going. Her kits eventually stopped grieving for their father, and were told of his exploits as a young warrior, and how he could have become leader one day. When they became apprentices, Duckstep returned to her duties. When the previous leader passed and RiverClan's deputy, Blackstone, became the leader, she was chosen as deputy.
Though smaller than most of her siblings, Duck-kit was definitely the leader. They tottered after her, played the games she wanted to play, and so on. She was on top of the heap and she knew it and she never let anyone forget. A bossy little prissy pants she may have been, but she always owned up whenever she got the group into trouble and took the punishment, which she never really had to do, but did anyway.
Excitement rolled around in the form of their apprentice ceremony. Duck-kit became Duckpaw and was taken under the wing of Lionfang, a fearsome tom who took no stick from anyone and had protected the clan on many an occasion. She was in awe of him, in every sense of the word. She listened intently, wanting to beat her siblings to the punch and become warrior before them all, and it certainly looked as if it was headed that way.
But at ten moons, she and Weaselpaw went hunting alone and they both took a tumble. Weaselpaw landed on her head and her neck snapped, killing her, whilst Duckpaw landed roughly on her hind leg, breaking it. It took Lionfang and Weaselpaw's mentor, Flowerfur, several hours to find them and carry them back to camp. Duckpaw was confined to the medicine cat den and Weaselpaw was buried by the elders. Grebefeather, distraught, had a breakdown and blamed Duckpaw for Weaselpaw's death, and disowned her.
Grebefeather caught greencough and passed whilst Duckpaw was stuck in the medicine cat den as her leg healed, but she refused to back down and give up and just become an elder or the medicine cat apprentice. She wanted, no, needed, to become a warrior, to serve her clan and be useful and not another mouth to feed. By the time she had healed and left the medicine cat den, Lionfang had retired and a young and patient warrior, Silvertail, was assigned as her mentor. The pair of them didn't get on at first but eventually they clicked.
Duckpaw was sixteen moons when she became a warrior; Duckstep, named for her duck-like gait, but she was proud of herself. Her siblings had saved a space for her in the warriors den and she gratefully joined them. Not too long after she became a warrior, at eighteen moons she moved to the nursery. Gossip spread round the camp; who was the father? Duckstep and Silvertail announced that they had become mates, and all was well.
But, she gave birth early and no kits survived. She didn't even have the heart to name the poor things, letting the elders bury them and wallowing in her pity for a few weeks before she picked herself up and brushed herself off and carried on with her warrior duties. She was snappy and irritable for a while, but Silvertail helped her every wobbly step of the way and the two of them grew stronger as a couple, spending their time together and working hard, as any good RiverClan warrior would.
Duckstep mentored an apprentice in the year between kits; young Juniperpaw became Juniperclaw in five moons of training. She and Silvertail talked about having kits for another few moons bug it was a year after the birth of their first kits that Duckstep went to the nursery again. She was watched carefully, to make sure she didn't give birth early, but she was relaxed, happy, and felt it would all go right.
Duckstep gave birth to four kits, three sons and a daughter. She adored her kits and Silvertail was the attentive father he had promised he would be. Even her siblings popped into the nursery often to take over looking after them for an hour or two so Duckstep could exercise and stretch out her legs. The four kits were a handful but Duckstep was glad she hadn't had as many as her mother had; four was enough.
When her kits were four moons old, her brother, Barkfoot, and Silvertail were killed by a fox. The kits were distraught but Duckstep kept them going. After all, she had Greyface, Amberwing, Hawkheart and her father Ospreyclaw to look after her, to keep her going. Her kits eventually stopped grieving for their father, and were told of his exploits as a young warrior, and how he could have become leader one day. When they became apprentices, Duckstep returned to her duties. When the previous leader passed and RiverClan's deputy, Blackstone, became the leader, she was chosen as deputy.
never let me go, never let me go
ROLE-PLAYER: Tempest
WRITING SAMPLE:
kits tucked away safely in their nest with moss piled high around them to keep them warm, duckstep was finally offered a moment of quiet to escape motherhood for an hour or two and relax without having to constantly worry about her two little bundles. besides, the queen had already asked her father to look after them. ospreyclaw was more than willing to oblige, near enough smothering the kits with his long fur. she was sure swanfur wouldn't have wanted to, nor gullwing - swanfur didn't take much interest in her family anyway, and gullwing's nervous disposition would have meant several interruptions to duckstep's me time.
the cold was really getting to her. though she never really complained, her leg was a source of pain. duckstep would always grin and bear it, knowing that the elders would be in far more pain than she was, and knew that whilst she was nursing, poppy seeds were not an option. it was just exercise. playing with her kits, going on walks around the camp, anything she could do to keep her leg moving, keep it going and not stay still for too long. if she did, she would end up being immobilised for a long period of time, which she hated. being stuck in the nursery all the time was fairly awful for a once active young she-cat. though she wanted to return to warrior duties as soon as possible, she had a duty to her kits first. they would need her, no matter her own wishes.
duckstep started doing her lap around camp, hobbling slightly worse than usual. perhaps she should go for those poppy seeds and ask ospreycall if she could nurse butterflykit and chubkit for a while. the other queen was a young mother like herself, and with only one kit would have plenty of milk to spare, so she hoped she would be accommodating.
the camp was fairly empty. most able-bodied cats were out hunting, patrolling, or even searching for herbs. duckstep had hated times like this; the quiet was unsettling. she remembered watching the day get busy and quiet and busy again when she was confined to the medicine cat den whilst her leg was healing, and now she was confined to the nursery for even longer. it wasn't difficult - she enjoyed not having duties in the dead of winter, but it was still difficult to watch all the other cats slave for a few fish, only for most of them to go to herself and ospreycall and the elders, whilst the warriors and apprentices went hungry for another night. that was one of the reasons she wanted to go and hunt - bring in more food, and with one less queen there would be a bit more food for a warrior or an apprentice.
duckstep sighed; this felt like it was going to be a long leaf-bare.
the cold was really getting to her. though she never really complained, her leg was a source of pain. duckstep would always grin and bear it, knowing that the elders would be in far more pain than she was, and knew that whilst she was nursing, poppy seeds were not an option. it was just exercise. playing with her kits, going on walks around the camp, anything she could do to keep her leg moving, keep it going and not stay still for too long. if she did, she would end up being immobilised for a long period of time, which she hated. being stuck in the nursery all the time was fairly awful for a once active young she-cat. though she wanted to return to warrior duties as soon as possible, she had a duty to her kits first. they would need her, no matter her own wishes.
duckstep started doing her lap around camp, hobbling slightly worse than usual. perhaps she should go for those poppy seeds and ask ospreycall if she could nurse butterflykit and chubkit for a while. the other queen was a young mother like herself, and with only one kit would have plenty of milk to spare, so she hoped she would be accommodating.
the camp was fairly empty. most able-bodied cats were out hunting, patrolling, or even searching for herbs. duckstep had hated times like this; the quiet was unsettling. she remembered watching the day get busy and quiet and busy again when she was confined to the medicine cat den whilst her leg was healing, and now she was confined to the nursery for even longer. it wasn't difficult - she enjoyed not having duties in the dead of winter, but it was still difficult to watch all the other cats slave for a few fish, only for most of them to go to herself and ospreycall and the elders, whilst the warriors and apprentices went hungry for another night. that was one of the reasons she wanted to go and hunt - bring in more food, and with one less queen there would be a bit more food for a warrior or an apprentice.
duckstep sighed; this felt like it was going to be a long leaf-bare.
Lyrics: Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machine
