Whitewhisper

Whitewhisper is a she-cat devoid of morals though she will protest that she is otherwise. Throughout her youth she relished hunting. Fighting. These were things she enjoyed and was GOOD at. She soared past the other apprentices when training together, but all-around was a kind and respectful she-cat who helped her fellow clanmates out with whatever was needed. The perfect example of a good and kind member. She would poke her head in and help out the healer if he looked overwhelmed, and play with the kits for the tired queens. She was small and pretty and had the prettiest smile. That bloodlust only grew, however. During a border scuffle as a new warrior, she ended up clawing a warrior of another clan. It was instant and it surprised her how much she LIKED it. She liked the anger on the faces of the Riverclan cat in front of her. She liked the fear as she barely missed an eye. But she was smarter than to do anything too rash. Whalestar, leader of Thunderclan, is a very kind she-cat and while she would understand fighting, she would never stand for the killing of other cats unless absolutely, and by that, ABSOLUTELY justified. So she began her hunting more secretly. She would mask her scent and pace the borders at night, waiting for the sounds of pawsteps on the other side. As a warrior was heard, she would call them over. Whiewhisper would start out very casually, talking kindly and respectfully. Then, depending on how the warrior reacted, she would find a way to get them to step across the border. Once that was done, that was all the justification she so required. Those who break the rules surely must answer for it, right? And so Whitewhisper would murder a few cats each moon. Through missteps on the border, presumptions of hunting on thunderclan territory, picking off Shadowclan and Riverclan’s members one by one, as well as any rogue or loner that just happened to come by. Some bodies she would hide. Some she would drag further into the other clan’s territory and simply hop into a tree to wait and see the expressions of a shocked patrol. But with no proof, while tension began to rise as the clans began to catch on to Thunderclan’s behavior, they would not pin the blame on such a small, delicate, and sweet she-cat. One evening she was patrolling when she ran across another she-cat that made her heart stop. It was bewildering because the bloodlust within her was replaced with a keen interest. This cat was a rogue by the name of Night. She was mysterious. Sad, lonely, and defensive. But because Whitewhisper was so small and kind, Night let her guard down a bit. And they began to meet up. They would arrange meetings and talk. Whitewhisper did not break her innocent facade to Night, but they became close. Close until they even became mates. And Whitewhisper convinced Night to join Thunderclan. Whalestar being a very accepting and jolly leader, took a liking to Night, who then was named Flynight, and welcomed with open arms. Flynight was cold to most other cats, but with a little coaxing from Whitewhisper she started to get along, and they were a wonderful couple. But Flynight never knew what Whitewhisper did after dark. She only knew that her mate enjoyed walks after dark, and accepted that without question. Meanwhile Whitewhisper continued her poorly-justified killings. One time, without any knowledge, killing Flynight’s own brother on the assumption he was just another random rogue. Flynight never knew this. Whitewhisper knew about the tensions between other clans. She knew Whalestar was no longer as well beloved as she once was, and made a decision. After the tragic death of their last deputy, Thunderclan’s deputy was a young and pathetic tom by the name of Dawnspots. He was anxious and weak and if Whitewhisper wanted something done, he would probably be enough of a pushover to let it happen. She was not terribly unsatisfied with Whalestar, and probably didn’t need that kind of power, but she was willing to let something happen. So, she changed her tune a little bit. She knew Whalestar was on her last life. Every once in a while she would pace the borders, and give intell about her clan to anyone who seemed like they would take it well. About what makes Whalestar tick. About ways she might be gotten rid of. Whalestar was a huge and muscular cat. Nobody dared challenge her head-on because there would be no winning such a match. And one gathering, the leader of Riverclan, a corrupt leader who cared very little about the death of her clanmates, and more about being the strongest leader there was, ambushed Whalestar after telling her to stick around and talk after the clans went home. This was an ideal situation for Whitewhisper, but did not end up benefiting her as shortly she herself was murdered by an angry patrol, one cat of which having recognized her walking near the border on the night of his friend’s death. Flynight never knew Whitewhisper’s secret. Even after death she was not found out. If someone knew they wouldn’t dare tell the brokenhearted she-cat, who became reserved and saddened, unable to move on for the rest of her life. After death Whitewhisper realized. She, in the dark forest, would witness glimpses of her mate, mourning over her. Asking what Starclan was like. And it broke her. Whitewhisper herself broke down and began an eternity of regret and mourning over what she had done. A long time waiting until Flynight would die and realize the truth. Whitewhisper was no longer a violent and bloodthirsty creature. She would only feel sadness and anxiety. Regret and a wish for a forgivness she will never obtain. It was far too late for her.