Kitejaw

name: Kitejaw (Kite, for her ginger patches. Jaw for her stoic nature)

age: 63 moons

sexuality: Bisexual (prefers she-cats)

clan & rank: Shadowclan Warrior

allegiance desc: a lean Tortiepoint Siamese she-cat with blue eyes

appearance:  Kitejaw, unlike many of her clanmates, is sleek and wiry. She’s well-muscled, but - especially after her absence – entirely focused on running and trotting for long distances. This leaves her with a powerful core, shoulders and hindquarters but without much strength in the way of combat (apart from, of course, being able to deliver a nasty kick). She’s a little rugged looking, with nicked ears and usually a windswept and mussed appearance, as she spends a lot of her time outside of camp. However, she certainly has an angular kind of prettiness to her in the right light – especially with her wide, sapphire blue eyes that seem to look right through you, provided one doesn’t find her gaze mildly unsettling of course. 

As for her pelt, Kitejaw is an interesting smoky tipped specimen. Flecked with dapples of ginger that give her an almost sun dappled look. With a half white nose and toes she’s certainly a striking cat, more so with her large, pointed ears and long winding tail. Though her short pelt can cause her trouble with keeping warm, it’s made her physically tougher to the environment, and means she likes to keep moving when she’s out of camp.

personality: 

Kitejaw has always been a bit of a black sheep within Shadowclan. With a personality that some can find quite off-putting. Outwardly she’s extremely stoic and highly analytical. Rarely showing strong outward emotion, and with an often detached and matter of fact manner of talking about other cats when someone does get her talking. This can make her seem like she lacks empathy, though as an adult Kitejaw is much more careful with her words, and a lot less uptight as compared to her younger years. Though with a much more…present set of social skills she’s still a little strange and can be difficult to strike up a conversation with. She also has a very intense stare which can be quite unsettling for cats unused to her. 

Behind the cold exterior however, Kitejaw is an extremely sharp, curious individual with a thirst for knowledge – a side that is rarely seen by others in her clan, with the previous exception being her mentor Rooksun. Since coming back from her absence she seems to have become a lot more approachable and relaxed. Before she was extremely closed off, completing her duties, but with none of the confident enthusiasm of her young warriorship. Doing the bare minimum to take care of herself half the time with a grim expression of a cat waiting for the rest of the world to finish burning down around her.

Since returning however she has been making an effort to speak to her clanmates and generally seems a lot more at peace with things. Though she definitely has a growing fire to prove herself after the long absence.

Though quiet as an apprentice and a young warrior, increasingly as she’s aged Kitejaw has become quite outspoken if she has criticisms during clan meetings. Offering counterpoints and questioning the decisions of her leader. Generally these have always been polite and measured, though she’s had a few outbursts of irritation before, especially at Saffronstar. These stopped entirely with her apprentice’s death, and she’s waiting to get more up to date with the goings on in her clan before putting her paw into clan debates for the time being.

history:

TW: severe chronic autoimmune disease for Starlingpool’s backstory, and a death scene during the fire written with some emotional detail (no gore). If you need a summary message me on discord!

Kitejaw’s mother was a serious, cold she cat. A mostly black tortoiseshell by the name of Starlingpool. Her move to the nursery came as a surprise to the rest of the clan. Partially because the she cat was never the motherly type, but moreso because Starlingpool – despite her cool and harsh personality – was an extremely sickly cat. 

The she cat completed her warrior duties like any warrior, but though she squared her shoulders and marched on without so much as a grumble of complaint, she was called into the medicine den almost fortnightly for her consistently failing health. She often worked herself to near collapse keeping up with, and attempting to outcompete her clanmates on patrol as a young warrior, so when she announced to the clan that she was moving to the nursery, cats watched on with equal surprise and grim realisation of the consequences.

The question on the minds of Shadowclan was, of course, who the father of this litter was. Starlingpool herself had never been close to any cats in her clan. While at the time cats assumed her pregnancy was the result of a short fling with a loner, the secret that Starlingpool fully intended to take to her grave was that her partner had been Heathertrot – a Windclan warrior.

The two had been meeting in secret for a while. Initially Starlingpool had repeatedly thrown the tom back over the boarder after frankly embarrassing attempts at espionage, however when the tom had started coming seemingly just to get beaten up for a chance to talk with her the two struck up a connection. Heathertrot was genuine and charming, and both seemed to adore Starlingpool’s sharp sense of humour and able to make even the sullen molly chuckle. Without even realising it, Starlingpool was no longer heading to the boarder to defend it.

The pregnancy came as a complete shock to Starlingpool, it had been completely unplanned and she knew what it likely meant for her health. She chose not to tell Heathertrot, instead the next meeting the two had explaining that she had an infection coming on, and he likely wouldn’t see her for a long time. The two spent the night curled up tightly, Heathertrot talking away as Starlingpool listened to his breathing and felt his voice through her chest. She knew as she walked home that she would never see him again. 

In some ways this may have been for the best, as the tension between their clans, already brewing as the two had been visiting each other had started to boil over, and it wasn’t far off when Kitekit was delivered on a cold, windy night that outright war was declared.

The healers of the clan hadn’t had high hopes for Starlingpool’s litter, however her single she-kit was perfectly healthy and grew well, despite being slightly scrawny (named, as far as her clanmates knew for the dark ginger patches on her face. But in reality for a favourite story Heathertrot liked to spin about a kite that almost took off his apprentice). For Starlingpool however, the kitting was clearly the beginning of the end for her already failing health, over the months as Kitekit grew up she dedicated all of her time to tutoring the little she kit, and more importantly preparing her for growing up an orphan. Starlingpool never minced her words when it came to her condition, something that shocked and disturbed the other queens in the nursery, and often she would send Kitekit away outside to practice her stalking or to learn about the other clans from the elders, something that quickly became clear to the other queens was a way to stop Kitekit from seeing her mother during the worse bouts of her illness. Kitekit, for her part, seemed to have a similar pragmatic attitude to her mother’s illness – she was always a strange kit, quiet and polite, rarely playing with others and simply looking for odd jobs to do around camp when she wasn’t asking questions (something suggested by her Starlingpool) – she rarely showed any grief outwardly, parroting back her mother’s words when prompted. Though the other queens would catch her checking on her mother and asking her if there was anything she could get her often.

By the time Kitekit was approaching apprentice age, it was clear that Starlingpool’s condition was going to kill her soon. The she cat had lived through sickness after sickness, wounds that would have been minor for any other warrior became infected and stubborn to heal, a piece of bad fresh kill left her in the medicine cat’s den for days, but in the moons after Kitekit’s birth Starlingpool developed a nasty, wheezing cough that would leave her struggling to catch her breath, sometimes the fits would even make her completely nest bound and unable to stand on particularly bad days. No words were exchanged about it between her and the medicine cat. She didn’t need to be told how little time she had left. The only thing that had changed was a growing fearful determination to get up, get out. Every day her lungs and balance were getting worse, it was becoming not a matter of *in a few moons* but *one bad day*. 

Luckily, Starlingpool survived to see her kit become an apprentice. Though she was so frail on the day of Kitekit’s ceremony she had to be propped up by other cats as her daughter received her name and mentor – Rooksun. It was the first, and only time the clan saw her truly smile, eyes glowing with pride despite her condition as Kitepaw touched noses with her mentor and looked back to her mother for her approval of the choice. When Kitepaw bounded over to her she licked her ears and told her to go, making the little she cat promise she wouldn’t look back on her way out of camp.

Starlingpool died before Kitepaw returned home, eyes fixed on the camp entrance from the floor of the medicine den.

Kitepaw‘s apprenticeship was a relatively normal one, with her already atypical personality along with her subdued, silent vigil for her mother she was an outcast from the other apprentices from the start. There were several attempts at bullying or teasing, including Hailpaw giving her several nicks from refusing to rise to taunts. However when Kitepaw gave no reaction and simply kept her head down – just like her mother had told her – she found herself eventually being left alone more often than not. One thing Starlingpool was wrong about however, was the fact that Kitepaw wasn’t totally on her own after her passing. 

Rooksun turned out to be an immensely kind, effective mentor for the little she cat. He pushed her to train hard and not only stick up for herself, but also make herself known and encouraged her to be the best Shadowclan warrior she could be. Over time she started to come out of her shell, and into her own, she started speaking her mind, growing confidence in herself and most of all; silently fostering her growing desire for leadership. Where the she cat had been near mute at times, towards the end of her apprenticeship she would near talk Rooksun’s ears off, wanting to know every last little thing she could about the other clans and her leader. Though she stayed reserved around her clanmates, she wasn’t the scrawny, shy little apprentice she used to be anymore. Most importantly he was the parental figure that Kitepaw desperately needed. By the time her apprenticeship was finished the two were family in all but blood.

Kitejaw earned her warrior name – chosen for the formation of markings on her face and her stoic nature – at the average age, and despite her youth, immediately began to cultivate a reputation within the clan for her impressive intellect and hardworking nature. She naturally became involved quickly in the ongoing war (mainly managing to avoid battles as an apprentice thanks to Rooksun), and despite her young age, occasionally was called upon by more experienced warriors to both listen in to small strategy discussions, and offer her opinion (though, of course, never with the deputy Wolfcatcher)

With his outstanding success with Kitejaw, it wasn’t long until Rooksun was assigned a new apprentice, and after taking a huge interest and initiative (and lack of suitable warriors), Kitejaw was assigned her own at only 20 moons old. A small cat named Fernpaw.

Fernpaw was a shy cat, and struggled both with their training, and with the confidence to get along with the other apprentices. With Rooksun still training his own apprentice (who was near graduation) the two worked hard to both bring Fernpaw up to speed and encourage them to come out of their shell (with Kitejaw mostly handling the former, and Rooksun the latter). Fernpaw turned out to be a decent fighter, but remained pretty shy and lacked the killer instinct their deputy was pushing for. Despite getting their warrior name of Fernfoot, they ended up running away part way through the war, unable to handle the pressure and constant bloodshed. Kitejaw was sad to see them go, fretting to her old mentor about what she could have done better, but long term it was clear that they were never going to be able to thrive as long as the bloody war continued.

Unfortunately, this quickly became the least of her worries.

During one of the many battles against Windclan – Kitejaw sticking away from the frontlines with her mentor as had become the norm for them – something was *off* in the air. As they approached the thorny defenses there were no warriors to meet them. Rooksun held her back from approaching with the first wave, citing a nasty feeling about the whole situation, and when the first wave of eager apprentices and warriors hit the thicket he was proved horrifically correct. 

Within minutes, cats that had been eagerly tearing away at the brambles and trying to force a way through were frothing at the mouth and screaming. Cats were screaming a retreat as backline warriors tried desperately to rush in and pull cats back, Kitejaw and Rooksun among them. Kite was hauling another warrior to their feet when Rooksun rushed past her, running to another cat stuck in the thorns and wailing in terror, The tom had to rip them out with his teeth, not knowing what caused the sudden hysteria, and by the time he started stumbling as they desperately tried to flee it was too late. Kitejaw was destroyed by his death. Clanmates that had rarely seen her wince before heard her grief echoing through the pines. She refused to leave his body for hours, muzzle buried in his thick black pelt until Leechpool eventually managed to drag her away to the medicine den. 

The shock afterwards was severe, and even moons later with the war and her treatment ending Kitejaw still rarely left camp. Often barely eating for days on end and even when she did leave camp to hunt rarely saying a word to anyone. Moons passed and with Kitejaw aimless and withdrawing more and more, something needed to be done. Thus, Kitejaw was assigned her second apprentice.

Dawnpaw was a smart, spunky young cat with an inquiring mind that Kitejaw instantly clicked with. She’d lost her parents at a very young age and been raised collectively by the Queens. Kitejaw saw a huge amount of herself in the little tortoiseshell and suddenly she had a reason to pull herself together. 

Kitejaw threw everything she had into Dawnpaw’s training, the little she cat progressing impressively compared to others in her cohort (with a gung ho attitude that kept even kite on her toes). Kitejaw taught her everything she knew, including her sprinting techniques, hunting in thick mud, advanced strategizing, and it seemed for a long time that she may even be promoted early.

This was dashed however by Dawnpaw rushing over the thunderpath after Thunderclan apprentices, tripping, flying through the air and badly spraining one of her legs, landing her a scolding from her mentor and 2 moons in the healer’s den, as her injury needed intensive physiotherapy before she could get back to training.

Dawnpaw did eventually get her warrior name; Dawnshade, on her 15^th moon and Kitejaw didn’t even try to hide her joy as she watched on. Though there was still a huge hole left in her life by the death of her mentor; she had a purpose. Dawnshade remained like a little sister to her, the two seen hunting constantly and bantering back and forth and Kitejaw started to regain some of her aspirations for deputyhood and perhaps further mentorship.
It was then for the second time that fate seemed to sink it’s claws into Kitejaw’s hide.

Not a moon after her apprentice’s graduation a raging fire engulfed Shadowclan’s camp thanks to the dry conditions. Kitejaw was quick to act, racing apprentices out of camp with Dawnshade before flinging herself into a puddle of mud to protect herself from the fire whilst fiercely arguing with the young warrior to stay with the apprentices and get to safety. Leaving Dawnshade with firm orders to stay with the young cats she raced back to camp, directing cats away from the blaze and when cats proved missing, racing back as close as she could to the camp to try and find traces of them.
Kitejaw edges closer and closer to the camp, voice becoming hoarse from smoke inhalation but continuing to follow the yowls of clanmates. With her whiskers singing and flaming debris starting to scatter around her Kite was starting to cut her losses, when a deafening crack, and then desperate scream erupted nearby.

Dawnshade was crushed under a smouldering branch, all air completely ripped from her lungs as she struggled to drag herself out. Kitejaw couldn’t even feel as her claws split and broke from her desperate digging in the hardened ground, couldn’t hear herself scream for her apprentice to stay awake as her eyes slowly glazed over and rolled back. 

Kitejaw was lucky to return to her clan with superficial burns, but Dawnshade’s body was never found again.

A familiar routine set in. Wake, watch the sun move across the sky. Try and fall back to sleep. Repeat. This time Kitejaw wouldn’t even accept food from the other warriors, barely eating enough to stop her pelt sinking against her ribs. She’d occasionally step out of camp to hunt, bringing back prey after increasingly long hunting trips, but rarely eating any herself and near mute towards her clanmates.
This progressed to the point where Kitejaw would spend days out of camp. Always returning with prey but clearly avoiding the gazes of her clanmates. This culminated one rainy afternoon
when, wandering aimlessly, Kitejaw found herself just beyond Shadowclan territory. The thick forest had long since broken way to muddy grassland, and with the heavy rainfall Kitejaw could hear the rushing of a swollen stream nearby. With the wind howling, and the rain beating at her dulled pelt, Kitejaw’s only warning of the danger following her was a faint growl, disappearing into the wind.

When the clan came looking for her, they found her tracks followed by a bigger clawed set. There was a sign of a scuffle, and the muddy side of the gulch marred by skid marks. Ripped turf and dents in the claggy slope below leading to the still rushing river. 

(Kitejaw’s little adventure will be added later as it comes out in RP!)

Trivia!
- Kitejaw has a mild fear of the medicine den and avoids it as much as she can

- She knows some basic herb knowledge! this is from her mentor, and from her time away (she knows what some things are, and in theory how to use them, but application is eeehhhhh....)