Windfall

| Personality | Hardly a overly cheerful creature, many see Windfall as a feverously devoted feline. Her dedication to her clan is something that is seen simply as a fact, little to no chances arising to question it. A careful demeanor is crafted over her, one that has been in place so long even the molly might forget the bright happy kit she had once been. Stern and at times ruthless with her words, every action or vocalization displays her desire to protect and provide for her clan. This is something most easily seen expressed during clan meetings, or whenever Windfall has been blessed with an apprentice. In the past some have claimed the molly to be too hard on the youths placed in her care, yet each to survive to warriorhood has proven to be nearly as effective a warrior as she. Her rigorous training is not left without any form of praise - rather, the words that she whispers to her apprentices often spark something deep within them; something darker.

Her fiery devotion to the clan is what has sparked many within it to see her with respect. Her willingness to throw herself into any battle and hunt in any condition displaying time after time that she put the Clan above herself always. Even with her rather fierce reputation, that does not stop her from helping in all aspects of the clan; to Windfall there is no task too lowly for a warrior to do.

Every creature has a shadow, and Windfall's almost seems larger than others. There is a good reason why some in the clan hesitate in her presence - those that have witnessed her wrath on the battlefield. Though she follows the code during times of combat, she often leaves her opponents wishing she'd landed that final blow. Broken and bloody is how both she and her opponents often leave the fray - or at times are dragged or carried out. Ruthlessness sings in the wake of her claws, and only a few times have those claws been turned inward towards her own clan. The few events that have left betrayal within the clan had sparked yet more terrified respect for the marbled molly. As the moment any trace of confirmation was given, Windfall fell upon those stripped of their ranks, ensuring that they fled the land that had once been theirs with more than a few marks to remember her by.

Through all of this, though seems to be the soft heart of a romantic feline, something that seems so at odds with the rest of her. Despite the -tragedies- that have befallen those that come to care for Windfall, she still seems to search for the cat that can live by her side. A softness seems to coat her eyes at the sight of kits, as though some part of her longs for some of her own.

| History | Life began for the molly known as Windfall in a discontent and tumultuous family. Both proud warriors, her mother, Vulturesnap, and her father, Onyxshatter, were both devoted wholly to the clan. It was something that was drilled into the molly from the moment she could grasp the words they spoke to her. Her parents weren't lacking in love; they just expressed it by pushing her to become the most skilled warrior she could be. Her days as a kit were spent learning strategy and tactics, honing her stealth as she was not yet old enough to begin learning to fight or hunt. Each parent was rigorous in these private lessons, determined that their kit would become the most prized warrior not just in FloodClan, but in all the Clans.

Winfall did not find this treatment to be peculiar; in fact, she often felt confused at the soft way others seemed to protect their kits as if there was a desire for them to be soft and weak. These observations began to twist her mind slightly, making it so that she saw those that did not give every ounce of their body, mind, and soul to the clan were weak and potentially dangerous. Moving into her moons as an apprentice, Windfall quickly became an apprentice that many warriors took note of. This attention, however, came at the cost of her peers isolating her. Just as they sneered at her, she would often return the favor, that spark of youth fueling her irritation.

Dealing with her isolation from her peers was easy for Windfall; she simply pushed herself harder. If the other apprentices were content to sit in mediocrity, she would force her body and mind past each breaking limit she had. Her training paid off, and come time for her assessment, windfall passed with flying colors, much to the chagrin of her peers. That isolation followed Windfall through the first moons of her warriorhood, though the molly did as she had always done and put her nose to the trail and worked. It was these first few moons that began the fleeting romance between Windfall and the shy, nervous tom Grouseshiver. An unlikely pair, the two seemed to connect on several of the patrols they were put on together, quickly falling into a relationship. It was this first 'love' that seemed to soften the previously rigid feline, letting the clan see a side of her that they had otherwise not seen yet. What seemed to be the start of a long and happy relationship ended in an abrupt turn of fate. *
*Sent on two separate patrols, Windfall was not beside Grouseshiver as his patrol was faced with a pair of dogs. Grouseshiver had never been a strong fighter, and the warriors that were with him had not been able to save him. Windfall's cries had haunted the camp that night, her vigil far from silent as she mourned before the clan her cries surely reaching Grouseshiver in the heavens above. For a time after this, Windfall had returned to the rigid creature she'd been before knowing the tom, though slightly colder than before.

It was seasons later that the molly came to open herself up to another feline, a soft-spoken molly named Mistwisp. Their romance was one that grew slowly but evolved into Windfall teaching the other molly how to better her fighting skills. There was still something that pushed Windfall to encourage Mistwisp to grow stronger, something that haunted her nearly every night. Just when the clan began to think Windfall had found a soul to soothe her own, fate seemed to laugh once more. It was during a border skirmish, one that Windfall had heard of after it started, and barreled through the territory to the patrol Mistwisp was on - the patrol currently under attack. The molly that Windfall had grown so close to was fighting bravely, holding her ground against the large tom she fought. Still, Windfall lept forward and joined her in the fray, fighting by her side. Even as things seemed to be going well, a shrill cry came from Windfall. A screech as she tackled the confused tom that had been fighting her and her mate, her mate who now lay prone on the grass behind her. There was no stopping Windfall, as she tore and shredded until her teeth found the spot at the back of the toms neck. A life for a life.

The skirmish ended with curses from both sides, and Windfall carried Mistwisp back to the camp, placing her body just where Grouseshiver's had been. It was many seasons before Windfall came to 'love' again, the molly being somewhere around her 38th moon. It seemed as though the 'soft-spot' she had for those soft-spoken felines had not left her. This tom was as nervous as her first mate and as shy as her second, Fernripple being a younger warrior than she. The seasoned warrior seemed to instantly push Fernripple to train more as she realized her affections, insisting that she be on the same patrols as him. Things seemed to have settled as the dawn of their second season as mates drew near, and all had been quiet. Through the few skirmishes and spats the pair had been through, both had made it home each time. Almost as if to mock her happiness, a cold sunrise stained the sky red, much like the snow was soon to be.

Having insisted on the dusk patrol and following dawn patrol, Windfall was joined by Fernripple only on the latter. Moving through the territory with another cat, the trio made easy progress. Coming to a clearing, they stumbled upon a small snowy mound; Fernripple moved forward without hesitation to uncover the seemingly forgotten hare that had been covered by the snow. Before he could even turn around fully, the lynx was upon him, and it was all Windfall, and the other warrior could do to wrest his body from the giant feline.

This vigil was held in silence, Windfall staring up at the stars instead of at the body that her mate had once inhabited. It was the journey of hope that seemed to draw her clanmates to her, even as she turned inward, she could feel respect grow for her. Like an ever-repeating cycle, Windfall took many moons, many seasons before allowing herself to look at another feline with any sort of affection. Currently, Windfall seeks comfort in the paws of her clanmate Gloomshade, the loss of her last mate moons past still lingering over her. She appears nearly devoted to this tom that has swept in during her time of need, not allowing the glint of a huntress to show in her eyes as she watches him.
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The above is written by me and may not be used or copied under any circumstances.