Feldspar

Positive
-Loyal
-Hardworking
-Daring

Neutral
-Proud
-Solitary
-Dry

Negative
-Opinionated
-Fiery
-Bitter

Strengths
-Physically strong
-Solidly built, not easy to push around
-Focused (once committed to a goal, it's hard to shake him from it)
-Doggedly loyal (provided you can earn his allegiance)

Kit (0-6 moons)
Feldspar was born in Buttercup Hill warren to parents who couldn't be prouder. Both were successful owsla members and their precious, lone kit was going to grow up just like them. They supported his every endeavour through kithood. He made good friends, strong friends; things looked promising for a new generation of owsla.
Feldspar spent his last month or so in the nursery champing at the bit to get out and join his slightly older friends in owsla-muddypaw training. He'd never been good at making friends, but he'd become fast ones with Crabgrass, the leader of the group. He hated being left behind, he wanted to be out there training with them. He was going to be the best owsla he could be. He had promise.

Muddypaw(6-15 moons)
His parents supported him when he began his owsla training, and they supported him when he realized his life wasn't right as a doe. When his father returned from a skirmish with Bogweed battered and broken by the loss of his mate, his dedication to his training only grew stronger. He was going to crush bogweed into the dirt.
However, while his father recovered quickly from his physical wounds, he never seemed to recover from the emotional ones. Goosegrass never returned to his duties as an owsla, instead he became a digger. While he insisted he still supported Feldspar's training, Feldspar couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't.
While Feldspar grew to resent his father, he grew closer to his friends and his mentor, Sowthistle. They saw the promise in him. Despite whatever was going on with his father, he was still going to be a great owsla. He had promise.
And then Crabgrass was lost to a snare because of that stupid cursed rabbit. He missed his friend dearly. The trial didn't give him any closure. He went to the scene of the crime, looking for a sign or... something, he wasn't really sure, but that's how it happened.
They managed to get his leg free from the snare (no thanks to all the tugging he did, that's useless apparently), but it was never the same after that. It just kept on buckling. He couldn't run properly, couldn't fight properly. His father told him he still had potential as a digger. Sowthistle refused to train him further as an owsla. What remained of his friends pitied him. He hated all of it.

For moons Feldspar idled, unwilling to let go of his drive to become an owsla. He fought everyone at every turn and grew more and more distant from those he'd been close to. Until, finally, he caved.
“If you’re ready to actually help in this war, I’m sure the diggers would like a few extra paws.” That's what Quill said. That's what did it. Despite his bitterness, he couldn't deny that digging the prisoners burrow was helpful. He couldn't deny that sitting in bitter denial was ultimately a burden on his warren. And so he had began learning to dig. He wouldn't admit it to himself, let alone anyone else, but digging was surprisingly hard work. His father, delighted by Feldspar's change of heart, was all to happy to take his son under his wing as a muddypaw. Feldspar refused to admit how good it felt to have his father's full support again. Finally, he was ready to dedicate himself to the task. Feldspar threw himself at his training with ferocity; spurred on by the bitter feeling of being a Muddypaw far past the time he should have a full rank. While his claws grew blunt, moons of hard labour filled out his form.
“If Bogweed are invading then we’ll need every rabbit. I trained you, lame paw or not, this is your chance to fight like an Owsla," Sowthistle had said. Once again gripped by the determination to prove himself, Feldspar had thrown himself into the battle of the clashing eclipse alongside his old mentor. Despite his leg interfering, Sowthistle was impressed by his ferocity in their fight against her daughter. He'd earned his first battle scars and his rank as an owsla that day.
Just in time, too. Lan-Hraeth, the mysterious new warren that had appeared during the battle, looked to be a threat strong enough to bring both warrens to their knees.

Owsla
In progress.

FAMILY:

OTHER:

Likes

• Praise
• The satisfaction of a job well done

Dislikes

• Hemlock
• Those sympathetic to the plight of enemy warrens
• Pitty

Trivia

• His leg acts up more in warmer months and less in cooler months