Jul 26, 2018 4:12:51 GMT
Post by heda on Jul 26, 2018 4:12:51 GMT
age • 27 moons
gender • female
sexuality • lesbian
clan • riverclan
rank • warrior
allegiance • lean dark ginger she-cat with pale yellow-green eyes.
full • emberlight is an average-sized she-cat, however her lean body and longer legs give her the appearance of being taller than she is. she has a sleek dark ginger coat, with darker markings around her face, and large, expressive pale yellow-green eyes. her tale is plumed with silky dark ginger fur. emberlight has an elegant triangular head with large ears. although her appearance is dainty, she is athletic and strong.
+ Dutiful. Emberlight is entirely devoted to her Clan. Their needs are her needs, and whatever is hers is RiverClan's. Emberlight does not shirk her duties; she is hard-working and always willing to lend a paw when needed. This sense of duty extends in a greater way to those that she is close to. Emberlight is responsive to her friends in ways that surpasses the average Clan-mate. Her almost blind loyalty to her Clan and friends can lead her to spurn valuable allies in favor of those closest to her.
+ Leader. She is only a warrior -- and a fairly young warrior at that -- but Emberlight possesses those qualities of delegation, motivation, and listening that have made her a respected Clan member.
+ Witty. As almost any Clanmate can attest, although Emberlight may seem intense and focused to an outsider, she has moments of unexpected clever humor that shine through. Her humor is often dry and interjected at strange moments.
+ Visionary. Emberlight is willing to step outside the bounds of what is tried-and-true tradition. She does not believe that the best way to do something is the way that it has always been done, but rather the way that makes the most sense. This is not to say that Emberlight is impulsive or willing to break the warrior code willy nilly; she is merely willing to incorporate new ways of life if it benefits RiverClan.
- Ruthless. When wronged, Emberlight has no pity. She does not stand for thieves and liars. If a cat turns their back on her, Emberlight will cut them completely out of her life. She holds grudges and will bide her time if it means that she can get revenge.
- Proud. She does not ask for help. Even when Emberlight is struggling, she will not reach out and say, "I'm drowning." She believes that admitting she is having trouble is admitting that she is weak.
- Soft. At her core, Emberlight is tender with the ones that she loves. She had her heart broken once before and resolved to never show this side of her ever again. Instead of embracing her natural gentleness, Emberlight stifles it. Emberlight insists that decisions should be made with her head and not her heart. This conflict inside of her can taint her decision-making. Instead of acknowledging both sides of herself, Emberlight may make a decision with her head -- and later go back on it because of her heart, and vice versa.
= Emberlight is quick to assume that others are motivated by their own self-interests.
= She does not speak for the pleasure of hearing herself talk.
= Like any RiverClan cat, Emberlight enjoys being near water. Whenever she has free time she can almost always be found swimming or lounging near Sunningrocks.
= Hunting did not come easily to her as an apprentice.
= She loves playing with the kits at the nursery and telling them stories. She would love a kit or two of her own one day.
= She is still mourning the death of her beloved, Goldenwing.
mother • stripedpool, female, alive
father • brightfall, male, deceased
sibling • burningsong, male, alive
mate • goldenwing, female, deceased
mentor • pikepelt, male, deceased
apprentice • drizzlefoot, male, alive
It wasn’t that Stripedpool and Brightfall didn’t love each other. It wasn’t that Brightfall didn’t find Stripedpool engaging and lively, didn’t find her ginger tabby pelt and yellow-green eyes beautiful. And it wasn’t that Stripedpool fell out of love with Brightfall either. The demise of their relationship was due to one thing and one thing only: timing. StarClan placed two cats in the same Clan who were so obviously meant to be with each other, but at different ends of life. Stripedpool was young and still immature, only a half moon removed from being an apprentice, and Brightfall was getting ready to retire to the elders’ den when they announced that Stripedpool was expecting his kits. The Clan was not sure how to view their relationship at first, especially because Brightfall had been Stripedpool’s mentor, but they were both fully-grown and able to make their own decisions; and besides, Stripedpool was already expecting. And anyway, cats muttered as they watched Brightfall and Stripedpool sharing tongues, Brightfall still had several good moons left in him. He was slower and stiffer than he had been, yes, but his dark ginger fur was still shiny with good health.
Brightfall doted on Stripedpool throughout her pregnancy. If she was craving a particular kind of prey, he would hunt until he found it. If she was cold, he would bring more moss back to line her nest. There was no desire too great – for his beautiful Stripedpool, Brightfall would walk to the ends of the earth.
But Stripedpool was young. As she lay in the nursery watching her belly swell with their children, Stripedpool listened to the other queens and their mates. Her new denmates were all far older than she; their relationships had stood the test of time – bitter cold, flooding, and battles that left both mates scarred – and their kits were a testament to the strength of their bond. Stripedpool glanced at her belly and felt queasy. Her kits were unplanned. Her mate was handsome and kind and she loved him, but their ages meant that they would be separated shortly by the grave. Stripedpool looked up at the roof of the nursery where she could just see slivers of blue sky. She would be a single parent soon enough, with who knows how many kits to raise. Brightfall had been moving slower and slower as her belly grew. He tried to hide the limp in his step and the soft cough that would not go away, but her eyes and ears were sharp.
So as Stripedpool lay there, pondering the future she wanted for herself, she realized that StarClan had been cruel to her. Brightfall was perfect for her. But their time together was swiftly drawing to an end. Her throat constricted and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the daily bustle of the Clan outside the nursery. I can’t be with Brightfall anymore, she thought sadly. I don’t want half of my heart to go to the grave with him. And so Stripedpool made the decision to end her relationship with the dark ginger tom.
Brightfall was devastated when she told him. But although Stripedpool was young, she was firm in her convictions, and she would not back down from her decision. “I want you to be there for our kits,” she told him firmly, her pale yellow-green eyes searching Brightfall’s face, eyes lingering on his silvery-gray muzzle. “You’re their father. I won’t stand in your way there.”
Four moons later Stripedpool went into labor. It was an arduous, painful delivery that kept many RiverClan cats flickering their ears uncomfortably. Brightfall crouched outside the nursery, digging his claws into the ground and every hair on end. His eyes were squeezed tight – Stripedpool had ordered him out of the nursery for the delivery. “We’re not mates,” she hissed through clenched teeth as her belly rippled with contractions. “Get out, get out, get out!” Her yowls of pain echoed around the camp for hours until she finally fell silent around sunhigh. Exhausted and with barely enough strength to lift her head, Stripedpool gazed down at two little dark ginger bundles that lay in the nest next to her. One of the stray rays of light that were piercing the ceiling of the nursery shone down on her kits, lighting their pelts up like a flame.
Stripedpool touched her nose to each kit’s wet pelt, her heart swelling. Burningkit, she thought as she touched the larger of the kits, a little tom. And Emberkit. She turned to the smaller. “Welcome to RiverClan,” she murmured.
From the moment they gained the use of their paws and legs, Burningkit and Emberkit spent as little time in the nursery as possible. The kits weren’t inseparable – they loved each other in the way siblings often do, which was by picking on each other. Emberkit was constantly pouncing on her older and larger brother, pulling his ears with her teeth and hiding in places to scare him when he was least expecting it. Burningkit was no better to her. There were many times that Stripedpool had to be summoned by an annoyed apprentice or warrior, and one memorable moment Oakstar himself, who had had enough with the two ginger kits antagonizing each other. The only time both kits seemed to behave for long periods of time was when they were listening to Brightfall’s stories in the elders’ den, as their father had retired there after Stripedpool ended things.
Emberkit adored her father. He was so calm and knowledgeable, and her chest swelled with pride when Brightfall told her and Burningkit that their dark ginger fur had run in his family for generations. “You are the continuation of a long line of good fighters,” Brightfall told them. “My father, and his father, and his father’s father, and so on, all had fur like flame. And they were all excellent with their teeth and claws.” He eyed Emberkit. “Don’t think that you will be any different because you are female, Emberkit. I can see the same fire in you that I see in your brother.”
Purring with pleasure, Emberkit touched her nose to Brightfall’s. “I won’t let you down,” she promised.
“Don’t let the Clan down,” Brightfall corrected her. “All of RiverClan is your family. Not just myself and Stripedpool.” It seemed that mention of their mother had upset Brightfall, for he turned his head away for a moment. A sharp cough racked his body.
“Are you okay?” Burningkit asked.
Brightfall continued to cough. “I will be. Both of you go, I am tired.” He flicked his tail to dismiss them.
Emberkit got to her paws and followed Burningkit out into the clearing. Burningkit gave her a thoughtful look. “Do you think Brightfall is ill?” He asked her.
She shrugged, but both kits could still hear Brightfall coughing. Another elder murmured to Brightfall from inside the den. “What do you think, genius?” Emberkit snapped back, every hair on her pelt tingling with concern for her father. Burningkit shoved her shoulder, knocking her down, and pelted back toward the nursery before Emberkit could retaliate.
Two days later Emberkit trotted toward the elders’ den with her head and tail held high. Burningkit was fetching Brightfall’s favorite prey, a water vole. They were bringing good news to their ailing father. Howlstorm had visited the nursery and told Stripedpool, Burningkit, and Emberkit that in a few days they would be made apprentices.
Emberkit poked her head into the elders’ den and immediately recoiled. The air smelled heavy and dirty. She cast a quick look around the empty den and spotted Brightfall curled up in his nest at the far side of the den. “Brightfall?” She meowed, hating that her voice pitched up with unease. “Why does it smell so bad in here?” The mound of dark red fur that was her father didn’t stir. Emberkit picked her way through the nests toward her father. “Brightfall?” She called louder, just in case the elderly tom hadn’t heard her. “Father?!” Emberkit shook Brightfall with both paws. Dread prickled at her heart as she bolted for the entrance. Emberkit collided with Burningkit and the two kits fell in a tangle of paws.
“What the -- ?” Burningkit gasped.
“Spottedwing! Stripedpool!” Emberkit wailed. “Somebody come help!”
The death of their father was hard for both kits. In their own way, they had each idolized him, and it was without a doubt that both had been closer with Brightfall than with Stripedpool. The little family sat vigil the night of Brightfall’s desk. With her nose pressed against Brightfall’s flank and Burningkit’s trembling side against hers, Emberkit resolved to make her father proud of her from StarClan.
Oakstar offered to delay their apprenticeship so that they would have more time to grieve, but Emberkit looked fiercely up at their leader and said, “Would a warrior wait? I want to be a warrior.” Not wanting to be left behind, Burningkit quickly meowed his agreement. And so they became Emberpaw and Burningpaw. Emberpaw was apprenticed to Pikepelt, a dark brown tabby.
Emberpaw threw herself into her training. Now that she was out of the nursery, she rarely saw Stripedpool unless their paths crossed in between training sessions. Pikepelt was strict with Emberpaw, but the structure allowed her to flourish. She took to fighting with ease and listened seriously to Pikepelt’s many lectures about RiverClan history and her duties as a Clan cat. But Emberpaw was a dismal hunter. Her paws seemed to turn to lead every time she tried to emulate Pikepelt’s movements.
“You’re trying too hard,” Burningpaw said unhelpfully during one training session as Emberpaw blundered into a fern. She’d lost her balance trying to fish.
Emberpaw turned on her brother, eyes flashing with frustration, but Pikepelt called her over to him. She sat down next to her mentor and hung her head.
Pikepelt regarded his apprentice for a long moment. “What is going on with you, Emberpaw?”
She looked up into her mentor’s yellow eyes. Her pelt crawled with shame. “I’m never going to be able to provide for RiverClan if I can’t hunt. I’m the only apprentice who can’t even catch a fish!”
He chuckled. “Burningpaw is right. You’re using your brain too much.” Pikepelt nudged her. “You’re a RiverClan cat,” he said. “Stop thinking so much and just do it. You have the technique down. But you lose your head when you actually try to put it into practice. Go out there and try again. And this time pretend that you are alone. I don’t exist, Burningpaw and his mentor don’t exist, and the Clan doesn’t exist. You’re just a cat fishing.”
Emberpaw eyed Pikepelt skeptically but did as her mentor asked. As she perched on a stone at the edge of the river, water lapping at her paws, Emberpaw took a deep breath and began to clear her mind. It took a long while but eventually Emberpaw relaxed and, without realizing what she was doing, scooped up a fish. She turned toward Pikepelt with the wriggling fish trapped securely in her jaws, and he nodded approvingly at her.
“Good work,” Burningpaw whispered in her ear. She flicked her brother’s ear appreciatively with her tail.
When they returned to camp, Emberpaw carefully laid her fish down on the prey pile where it could be seen from all angles.
Emberpaw whipped around. A beautiful tabby she-cat with a snowy white chest and golden eyes was staring at her. Goldenwing. Emberpaw felt hot under her fur. Goldenwing had been made a warrior days before Emberpaw had been made an apprentice. She had always seemed to “lose her head,” as Pikepelt put it, around Goldenwing when the warrior was an apprentice and she was a kit. There was something about Goldenwing’s gentle gaze that made her want to be better for the pretty tabby. “Uh…th-thank you,” Emberpaw stammered. She licked her chest self-consciously.
Goldenwing padded over to the prey pile. “That’s quite a big fish,” Goldenwing meowed. “I bet Pikepelt was pleased.”
“He was.” Emberpaw said, regaining her confidence. “How do you like being a warrior?”
“I love it.” Goldenwing stepped closer to Emberpaw, and Emberpaw’s eyes widened as the warrior’s sweet scent washed over her. “I can’t wait for you to join me in the warriors’ den though,” she purred. “I always enjoyed your company when we were younger.” Goldenwing flicked Emberpaw’s shoulder with her tail then carefully picked up Emberpaw’s fish. Goldenwing blinked warmly at Emberpaw before trotting away to the warriors’ den.
Emberpaw couldn’t get that warm look in Goldenwing’s eyes out of her mind. She began to manufacture ways to “accidentally” bump into the pretty she-cat. Emberpaw felt like she was floating through the air, her paws as light as feathers, every time she got to be in close proximity to Goldenwing. She wasn’t comfortable striking up a conversation with Goldenwing; Emberpaw was still just an apprentice after all, but her admiration of Goldenwing certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Pikepelt or Burningpaw. Her mentor simply tried to redirect her attention to training, but she had to endure endless teasing from her brother.
Emberpaw’s training sped by in leaps and bounds. Oakstar’s passing delayed her appointment to warrior by half a moon, but soon she found herself standing beside her brother in front of the rest of the Clan being declared Emberlight. The newly minted warrior felt warm to the tips of her ears and tail as her Clanmate’s cheers washed over her and Burningsong. Even Stripedpool darted up to them after the ceremony to give them a few awkward licks and tell them how proud she was. But nothing could compare to Goldenwing padding over, her expression almost shy, and touching noses with Emberlight.
“Congratulations,” Goldenwing murmured. “Do you want to go on a hunt tomorrow night?”
Emberlight studied Goldenwing for a moment, hoping desperately that Goldenwing was also feeling that glowing feeling in her chest. “Yes.”
That moonlit hunt was the most fun Emberlight had had in her life. Goldenwing was just as delightful as she remembered – happy and intelligent, and she was a fantastic hunter too, much better than Emberlight. It felt like moons slipped away and they were back to being much younger and carefree. And so the two she-cats became inseparable. Where one was seen, the other often wasn’t far behind. They worked together just as well as they did with others.
Emberlight settled into a comfortable routine. She enjoyed her warrior duties and it showed. Soon she had taken her place as a well-respected up-and-coming warrior beside those that were much more seasoned than she. Emberlight led a patrol to chase out a fox that had set up a den in their territory. The fighting was furious and risky, but in the end Emberlight sent it fleeing with a well-placed strike to the eye. She led the patrol home with her head and tail held high in triumph.
The seasons continued to turn, and Emberlight was made a mentor to Drizzlepaw, a solid dark gray tom who struggled just as much as she had at hunting. After she made it clear that she would not tolerate any kind of tomfoolery from her apprentice, Emberlight thoroughly enjoyed mentoring the young tomcat. With her guidance Drizzlepaw grew into a powerful young cat.
The night that Drizzlepaw became Drizzlefoot, Emberlight sat just outside the warriors’ den watching the new warrior sit his vigil. Goldenwing emerged from the den and sat down beside her.
“You did a good job with him,” Goldenwing murmured.
Emberlight glanced at her mate, a warm purr rumbling in her chest. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without your help – all those extra hunting lessons you gave really helped us both.”
Goldenwing flicked an ear dismissively. “You were doing fine without me…but you were right to come to the master for guidance.”
Emberlight laughed quietly. “You are the best of the best.” She studied her mate in the gathering twilight. Warmth surged through her body. “I love you,” Emberlight murmured. Every time she said it her chest squeezed with fear. She was throwing herself at Goldenwing’s paws, making herself entirely vulnerable.
And like always Goldenwing told her that she would never hurt her. Goldenwing licked Emberlight’s cheek gently. “I love you, too,” she whispered in Emberlight’s ear. The two she-cats sat side-by-side for a long while, enjoying the feeling of each other’s presence, before Goldenwing got to her paws with a sigh. “I’ve got to go to bed. I’m part of the dawn hunting patrol.” She nosed Emberlight’s shoulder. “And don’t you stay up too late, you’re leading the sunhigh patrol tomorrow.”
Emberlight murmured her goodnight. She stayed up until the cold drove her inside, and then she curled up, warm and content, next to Goldenwing and Burningsong.
That newleaf struck RiverClan with a vengeance. Humidity filled the air for days, culminating in a torrential downpour. It was as if StarClan had taken all the water in the world and was hurtling it down upon them. As much as she loved water, Emberlight didn’t dare set paw outside of her den unless she needed to hunt or patrol. Any time she went outside she was soaked to the bone in seconds, her dark ginger fur nearly black with water. One day the sun shone through for a few hours only to be obscured by dark clouds that poured on those that had been brave enough to set out into the muddy territory.
Emberlight was startled by yowls of fear. She sped out into the clearing, abandoning the hole she had been trying to patch in the elders’ den roof. Squinting through the rain, she spotted one of the queens standing in the middle of the clearing and wailing.
“Kestrelkit!” She screeched hysterically as Emberlight sloshed and skidded her way across the clearing toward her. “He’s gone!”
“Gone?” Emberlight asked sharply. “He’s left the nursery?”
“Yes!” The queen wailed.
Emberlight glanced around at the cats that had gathered around her, their heads and tails low against the rain; Goldenwing was there, her fur splattered with mud. Howlstar and Scorchflame had left the camp earlier to survey the territory after the rains. She hesitated for barely a breath before she began to divvy cats into pairs to search for the wayward kit. Goldenwing pelted out of the clearing, hot on the paws of the other warriors and apprentices out searching. Emberlight gave the queen a few brisk comforting licks. “We’ll find him,” she reassured her, ushering her back toward the nursery. “The most important thing to do is take care of your other kits now. They’ll need you.”
Emberlight summoned a passing apprentice with her tail. She barked quick instructions to care for the queen until the search parties returned before turning tail and sprinting out of camp. The scent trails of the other cats were already weakening because of the rains. It seemed that they had divided the territory appropriately except for one gap: the river. In the rain and mud it took her longer than usual to reach the river, and when she did she stopped and stared in dismay.
The river was flooding. Gray-brown water flecked with foam tumbled and roared far beyond where the river should have been confined. Emberlight skirted its banks as close as she dared, senses alert for any sign of Kestrelkit. She had just given up hope when she spotted the dark figure of a cat emerge from the underbrush many tail lengths ahead. Emberlight’s heart jumped – it was Goldenwing! She recognized that profile anywhere. The next moment Emberlight yowled as Goldenwing plunged into the river.
“No!” She gasped as she slipped and skidded along the bank. The force of the river was pulling Goldenwing downstream. She could barely see the tabby’s dark head bobbing in and out of the waves. “Get out of the river!” Emberlight screeched. Goldenwing ignored her, and Emberlight realized that she was using the submerged Sunningrocks and thick branches that had been caught up there to make her way into the middle of the flood. Emberlight followed Goldenwing’s path and spotted Kestrelkit clinging for his life to a branch whose end was jutting above the water.
“Hold on Kestrelkit!” Emberlight yowled, not sure if either cat had heard her.
Goldenwing floundered for a moment before she hauled herself close enough to snatch up Kestrelkit by his scruff. The tabby carefully picked her way back through the river, ears flat to her skull and eyes narrowed, and began to bound out of the river once the water became shallow enough.
Relief pounded through her veins. Emberlight rushed to meet them. “You mouse brain!” Emberlight gasped, watching Goldenwing wade the last few tail lengths.
Goldenwing blinked warmly at Emberlight. And then the river swelled and a wave pulled Goldenwing off her paws. Kestrelkit was flung from her grasp and both warrior and kit were dragged back into the river.
Emberlight yowled in horror, frantically searching the surface of the water for either cat. The other cats that had gone searching for Kestrelkit eventually found her there, pacing along the river’s edge calling for her mate and the kit that they had been trying to save.
Goldenwing’s body was later found washed up on the bank far downstream. Kestrelkit was never found.
Emberlight sat numbly in the clearing, staring at the lifeless body of her mate. How could you, StarClan? She demanded silently. Grief and anger thundered through her. She was so good…she was trying to save a helpless kit! But it was not just StarClan that she was angry with. Emberlight was also angry with herself. I should have done something to help them. But I loved her too much. I was so scared I could barely move. Emberlight heaved a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. I can never love someone as much as I loved her. I was weak.
After Goldenwing’s burial the following morning, Emberlight returned numbly to the camp. She refused to let Goldenwing’s death completely incapacitate her. She returned to her duties almost at once. But the best part of her had gone dark with the tabby’s death.
She fought alongside Howlstar and Scorchflame in the attack on ThunderClan. And when her leader died and Scorchflame became Scorchstar, Emberlight accepted the change with barely a twitch of her whiskers.
Brightfall had been right about where her loyalties should lie; she had been wrong to give so much of herself to another cat. After all, she was loyal to RiverClan the bone. If StarClan accepted Scorchstar as leader, and she believed he had more than proven himself capable, then that was the end of the matter.