Bitterstrike

Bitterstrike is Gritclan's loud powerhouse. Looking in the camp you will immediately either see her or hear her... or she has already come to size you up. Only a few cats are willingly to argue with her, as she can easily grow angry and violent, so most decide to keep their opinions when it comes to her. She values strength above all else and is easily willing to crush any of her enemies without mercy. She is loyal to her clan but her idea of loyalty is more claws and bites than kindness and talk.

She used to be the clan's Claw, but got demoted for her overly aggressive nature

She has little respect for hardly anyone in the clan, expect for Bircheye. And maybe some very complicated respectful-like feelings towards Honeysnap

She decided to have kits fairly late in life after realising that Gritclan would be definetely missing out if it lost her genes

Bitterstrike has served as Gritclan's fighter and The Claw for ages, keeping the clan safe with her claws and fangs. She might not have the most tactical mind or the sharpest wit, but she doesn’t need them. What she does have is raw, crushing strenght. She doesn't need pure fighting skills, as she has learned to use her size againts her enemies. Diplomacy? Patience? Mercy? Those are problems for cats with weaker jaws.

Her reputation alone sends rogues or other clan cats fleeing as those foolish enough to stand their againts her get to learn fast how she’s earned her name.

Bitterstrike had served as Gritclan's Claw for many moons when Rustclaw ruled, the two of them making a fiersome duo only few dared to speak againts. But after Rustclaw's death and when Jackdawsnare took his position as the leader, he decided to demote her back to being just a fighter, picking her sister Honeysnap as the nect Claw. Many were surprised when Bitterstrike didn't immediately challenge Jackdawsnare or Honeysnap in a fight, instead settled on just very fiercly verbally slashing out at them. If it was any other cat, she may have immediately proven why she was The Claw, but since Jackdawsnare chose Honeysnap... Bitterstrike has reluctantly accepeted the decision. At least the rank stays within the family.

On one sunny day, Bitterstrike was leading a patrol consisting of herself, Honeysnap and the three apprentices Moose-, Fern- and Sprucepaw. It was a perfect day to give the apprentices some fighting lessons... or to show off. But just as they were getting started, a strange scent interrupted them. A rogue. Bitterstrike gave the order for the others to stay back, she'd handle this. Bitterstrike quietly stalked towards the scent, until she finally spotted him. A black tom whose ribs poked through his patchy pelt and who looked as if he might collapse at any moment. Pathetic.

She creeped just a little closer and accidentaly snapped a dry twig on the ground. It was now or never, and she launched herself at the tom, who had noticed the sound too late. When they met the ground there was a sickening crunch sound, and after a few desperate rasps for air, the tom fell limp. She let out an annoyed hiss. This could've been more fun, if only the tom hadn’t been so pitifully ready to die. She could hear the rest of the patrol now catching up to her, especially Moosepaw's excited wows echoing in the forest, when she noticed a small stain in the corner of her eye.

A young, grey kit carrying an even younger, greyer kit.

The tom hadn't been alone.