Two-faced • Ruthless • Highly Intelligent

Sootminx appears to be a naive, joyous tom, clumsy and loveable. He always helps out when the opportunity presents itself. He adores playing with the kittens and hearing the elders' stories. Oftentimes, he can be found on patrol duty or fooling around in the clan.

What he keeps hidden, however, is a dark sinister side. He lives for the thrill and secretly, he tries to push the boundaries of how much he can get away with. Watching others in pain and torturing them is not his style at all, but when the temptation to test out his brains appears, he will take it. Getting away with murder is the ultimate test, one he has aced.

Soot was abandoned by his mother when he was barely six weeks, unnamed and alone. It caused his body to grow weaker. He would have died, had it not been for Zariuas, a young tom, taking him in and feeding him. He named him Crysis, a name the male adopted for the time being. It only took a week or two, for Soot to regain his strength, and shortly after, he poisoned Zariuas, watching him splutter with foam around his mouth. Slipping onwards, Soot quickly realized what a bother it was to hunt. It didn't interest him, didn't matter. It wasn't what he wanted.

During one of his trips, he ran into Sootkit. It was a young male a few weeks older than him with a charcoal pelt and a matching white tail tip like him. The face markings weren't identical, but it was good enough. Tricking the kitten into eating a toxic herb, Sootkit bit back, biting his paw hard. Hissing in pain, Crysis had torn into his neck, killing him. Staying on a low amount of food, Crysis kept Sootkit's rotten body with him practically at all times, sleeping with it to make the scent rub off. When a moon had passed, Crysis wounded his scarred paw once more, allowing for blood to pour out of his weak body.

Covering himself in mud, he limbed to Aspenclan's border, letting out pathetic, almost inaudible small mews for help. It wasn't long before a patrol found him, seemingly recognizing his scent. They brought him back to Rosewhisper who was beyond happy to get her baby boy back, although Soilcondor's expressed some suspiciousness. Quickly realizing he had to play to their expectancies, Crysis adopted the name Sootkit and the seeming behavior the male had had.

Which was... complete fool, apparently. Settling into the new carefree role, the Sootkit acted playful, clumsy, and lively, never appearing sad or angry. For all their happy joy, however, he seemed stupid. It had come to suit him just fine. When he became an apprentice and was accepted fully into the clan, he decided to test out his scheme. His mother was the first target. Rosewhisper had taken him out to fish at the nearby lake, the young male now a sprouting apprentice. He'd kept the appearance up towards anyone and everyone, confident that he could pull off his idea.

Slipping up behind Rosewhisper, he prepared to push her into the violent stream, when she spoke up. 'I know you're not my Sootkit, but you'll always be my lovely boy.' The words still echo in his mind to this day. It caused him to snap. The joyous demeanor and happy-go-lucky kit immediately froze up, his facade falling. She'd found out. How? The kill wasn't clean. She hadn't fought back, yet he'd continued to rip and tear into her flesh for minutes after she was dead. The red cloud cleared, leaving way for a moment of panic. He would have chalked it up to an accident, but now-

In a moment of desperation, Sootpaw had lured a badger towards the dead cat, watching it rip into Rosewhisper. However, when it caught his scent, it attacked, catching the young male by surprise. Getting his thigh ripped open, the beast would have taken his life had it not been for Soilcondor's intervention. The tom scared off the badger, stunned by the sight in front of him. He had no choice but to bring Sootpaw back, his mate long gone, her pelt and organs scattered around the entire shore.

The mix-up left Sootpaw more cautious. Soilcondor had grown more aggressive towards him, but other clan members sympathized. For moons, he stayed on his toes, keeping the desire to tempt fate suppressed. That was until he was almost done with his training. It was simply a too optimal situation. When Whitefang disappeared, felines once more pitied him, yet wrote off the warrior's disappearance to simply insubordination. And with that, Soot gained his name, Sootminx, his confidence bursting through the roof.