Personality

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Physical Description

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• Aroma: Morning dew and mint

• Eyes: Ice blue

• Build: Slender with long legs, mostly adept for running than fighting.

• Fur: Curly and thick

Design notes

• Their name comes from their two toned pelt

• The design was made simple for my sanity's sake

• L a s h e s, and moles, but most importantly lashes

•The cheek fur always curl around the face and a bit on top of his head. Though almost all his pelt and tail has got a couple of curls

• Fur: Curly and thick

Scars / Injuries

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• The nick on their ear was caused during the trip to summon Nymphaia.
• The scar on their shoulder was caused by falling debris due to Huitzi's rampage
• All burns came from the fire at the old territories

Backstory

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[Iris]

Kithood

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Surely no one wouldn't consider the mountains a place to call home. Almost all year round being battered by the cold winds, barely any vegetation aside from the same unchanging pine trees, and sharp slopes that could easily lead to a quick end. But that’s where Iris was born on one of those rare sunny days.

“Just a single kit”, his mother, Kona, would sigh as she pulled the tiny kit closer to her body so as to keep him warm. Iris was too young to understand what this meant though he didn't feel very inclined to pry further either, he would much rather burrow into his mother’s fur and fall asleep. For a good while all Iris knew was his mother’s dark fur and the freezing walls of the den he would often crash against as he was learning to walk. He didn’t mind at all. Even when his mother said she wasn't at the age to play with him and always suggested he should just nap, the little kit didn't mind.

Once the kitten was old enough to waddle a good distance on his own, he was led out of the den, his tiny world, into a much wider and colorful one full of new faces that oddly enough seemed to resemble his mother. Sorta. He came to learn that they were all related to some degree, littermates of his mother, their kits and a couple elders that were at the head of the group. Even though it was the first time the young kit had seen such a big crowd he had to put on a brave face and greet them.

“M-My name is Iris! It's nice to meet you!” The tiny kit had squeaked on trembling paws. His mother stood further behind with a content look as he didn't run to duck his head against her chest. Iris knew he wasn’t allowed to anyway.

The first to approach him was an older looking molly with white hairs strewn along her muzzle and eyes. "Oh you're such a sweetheart," she cooed and brought the kit closer to her. Iris squeaked at the sudden gesture but since his mother wasn't saying anything she must be a nice one. The latter laughed as the kit refused to break eye contact with her. "Welcome home darling, you can call me Ita~" she purred with a gentle tone full of warmth. This same molly would turn out to be his grandmother, her name was actually Begonia. When Iris was old enough to realize this he let out an,

"But Ita you dont look that old!" Thankfully that made the molly laugh, though it did earn a harsh scolding from his mother. That same day, the young cat would be sniffling in his grandmother's embrace as she assured him that she didnt mind the joke. She would always be the first one to run to his side whenever something happened with his mother.

Adolescence

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Iris soon enough came to realize that he was actually the youngest of their family group, hence why almost every single one of his relatives had the authority to correct him on his mistakes. Once he started learning to hunt, almost all of his cousins had something to say about his posture, and if he missed that day’s prey all the elders would chastise him for letting a perfectly good morsel go to waste and probably into someone else’s paws. The family depended on his success so he couldn't allow such mistakes to be recurrent. Iris learned to live like that, thinking of the others' empty stomachs before his own, even if his mouth was watering at the sight of fresh prey, and never complaining about it.

Whenever he peeked into the abandoned hare's burrow that served as the elder's quarters, his Ita would praise his conviction and dedication to his family. At least that served as his solace.

“You’re a good kit," she would say grooming his fur affectionaly. " Of course unlike that lazy bunch,” this was followed by a stern glance at his cousins. That would send them right back to the plains to look for something to appease the matriarch's complaints. Iris would do his best to distract his grandmother, her nagging had been growing especially more recurrent as prey grew scarcer.

The tom’s first winter arrived without mercy, the frigid rain not only kept them trapped within their dens but it also made hunting ten times more dangerous than normal. One wrong move and it was all over. Several times Iris wondered why his elders thought that it was a good idea to settle down in such a place of high risk, even worse to consider a place to raise their kits. After having to watch one of his own kin fall down a cliff and even though he couldn't clearly see it, he heard their spine snap like a twig. Iris' resolve to just run away grew even more. The memory would haunt his dreams for several nights and he rarely dared to approach the edges of the cliffs. A silly game he had often taken part in as a kit. Now the only thing he felt there was nausea.

Iris confided his fears to his mother, even wondering if they couldn't just leave and look for a better place to call home. "W-We really can just try! We can go together and-"

But the hunger stricken molly didn't have the patience to share his thoughts or even try to comprehend them.

"Are you out of your mind? Is this how you plan to repay the family that has taken care of you for so long!? Running away when things get ugly!?! Is that what I've taught you!?

He was further heavily reprimanded, not only by his mother but also the elders that overheard her angered yowls. He just didn't understand what a blessing it was to even have a territory that the family could call their own. At that moment no one spoke up in favor of the naive young cat, they just quietly watched as he was made to bow his head and listen. It was him that should work harder and so he was made to. Sleep less, work more, go further distance to look for food, prove his use to the family.

Not even Begonia spoke up for him at that time. She was too tired to even go head on with the others yowls.

Iris never again mentioned the possibility of leaving to anyone else. Some of his cousins approached him with the possibility of just disappearing in the middle of the night but he would simply refuse their proposals and leave. Iris knew that the following day they would be the ones being scolded and sent off to the valleys to hunt until they caught something or dropped from exhaustion.

Adulthood

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The tom played his part diligently but their situation did not improve from that point on. The seasons changed but the prey wasn't coming back, whether it was due to the harsh winter or because they had caught almost every small animal in their desperate effort to fill their own bellies. Their chances of surviving became slimmer but at least they didn't have any new mouths to feed. Nevertheless the elders refused to move from their land. Whether it was their own stubbornness or their advanced age, they feared the unknown more than their own demise.

One morning, Begonia didn't get up. The group fell into disarray, some cried their eyes out, others started throwing the blame onto each other for not helping out enough, and the elders fretted of what to do. His mother tried to take charge but this only led to more arguments between her and their relatives. Iris only tried once to step in and try to calm them down but he was quickly rebuked, he was only a kit so he shouldn’t meddle in others affairs! He occupied himself with the burial of the molly. The sight of her ribs sticking over matted fur didn't help much. Was it really worth it?

In the end their family broke up into smaller units, those who would rather stay and die on the same land they were born, and those who chose to move on. Their situation still didn't get better, little by little their group came to be only Kona and Iris. The young cat hoped his cousins had disappeared because they found a better chance somewhere else. The molly contracted an illness in the end and due to her already poor health she wasn't going to last long. Iris did his best to let her have a dignified end.

While having her last breaths she could only stare at him and sigh like she always did.

“I just never knew….what’s going on…in that head of yours,” she said between wheezes for breaths that grew weaker with every passing heartbeat. The following morning Iris left the makeshift den on his own and for once in a long time he let out a sigh of relief. He was now truly alone.

The Arc

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After that Iris continued traveling at his own pace without a destination in mind for a rather long time. He got to see new landscapes, much different than what he was used to back at the mountains. He also met several different cats and groups of loners along his journey but never stayed long with them, never letting himself grow too attached to them. During one of those travels he stumbled upon a rather curious group, they called it the Arc. It wasn't too little or too large and they seemed rather open to any cat that they stumbled upon. Maybe this was the chance for a new start…

Relationships

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Miscellaneous

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Trivia

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• Devout: still considering it but definetly Nymphaia..
• Always willing to discreetly flee from stuff that annoys/scares him, for example extremely loud noises
• Has no idea who his father is, as a kit he was told his mother had him all on her own. As an adult he still isn't interested in knowing.
• Fears: Broken limbs, a slow death where he's all alone
• Orientation: Pansexual/Demiromantic
• Old nicknames: Ris, Riri (hates it)

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