Shadowstar

[Fia]

Name: Shadowstar

Prefix Meaning: Given the prefix 'Shadow-' for his black fur.

Suffix Meaning: Given the suffix '-step' for proving his knack for creeping silently up on prey and enemies.

Age: 45 moons

Rank: Warrior

Clan: NightClan

Description: Big and black: the first two things one notices about Shadowstar. Next are his striking yellow eyes, brilliant against his dark coat. He makes an intimidating figure, towering over the average-sized warriors, looking down at them in a way that emphasizes the 'looking down' part. He stands, sits, and walks very straight and tall, and moves with great dignity and grace. Despite his size and weight, his paws fall silently upon the ground as he walks, runs, and even jumps. He never makes a sound while walking, never has, and never will.

Shadowstar is a powerful tom, making the most of his size in battle. His broad shoulders and limbs are packed with physical strength, his paws could shatter an enemy's skull in a single blow, and his powerful jaws have crunched through bone on more than one occasion. Lethal fangs glint in his mouth, and his paws contain equally deadly claws. He is not the most agile cat in the world, but his size doesn't slow him down, for he carries no excess bulk on his body; he's solid muscle all over, and those muscles support their own weight with no trouble. Shadowstar can strike like an adder, motionless one moment and moving like lightning the next; or he can drag his claws slowly and calmly down an enemy's back, controlled and precise, until the captured cat surrenders. This perfect control of his limbs and his power, as well as his silent way of walking, make him a fine hunter, too.

The only time he has trouble hunting is in leafbare. His coat keeps him warm, but the thick ebony fur stands out horribly against white snow. Black as a fox's heart and glossy as a raven's feather, Shadowstar's pelt consists of long, easily tangled hairs. He spends more time than he would like simply keeping it clean and smooth, but he manages nonetheless, for the sake of looking like a proper, well-groomed warrior. And it's a very handsome coat when it's clean: sleek and dark as night and soft to touch if any cat dared to do so. He has a beautiful, elegant, sweeping tail, part of what gives him his dignified appearance. Longest on his chest and shoulders, Shadowstar's fur is a curse in hot weather; he spends all of greenleaf feverishly thanking StarClan that his Clan lives in darkness and can hunt at night.

Personality: Shadowstar is a quiet cat. He is not shy -he is, after all, a the leader of NightClan-, nor is he cold or unfriendly. He just isn't the loudest tom around. He speaks when there is s reason to, and he says what he wants to say, and then he shuts his mouth and lets others chatter. He doesn't care to tell long-winded tales and has no use for flowery speeches; powerful ones, certainly, but not rambling ones. Now, this isn't to say he never has conversations with his Clanmates; he does, obviously, but they tend to consist of short, straightforward orders and requests for information. Shadowstar prefers to listen, quietly and attentively, to what others say, and contemplate their words in silence. He thinks before he speaks, in a mind constantly churning with thoughts, ideas, memories; and this cat can remember. He can recall the casualties, in detail, of battles in his apprentice days; he somehow always knows precisely what prey was caught and what was eaten, and by whom; he can quote, word for word, discussions and announcements at Gatherings, and tell you exactly which cat said what, and to whom, and at which Gathering.

The NightClan leader is just startlingly freakish that way.

Mind you, ask him what herb is used to induce sleep and you will receive a blank stare and an uncomfortable, “Um... poppy seeds, right?”

Now, Shadowstar is not a painfully arrogant tom; that is to say, he's not an awful stuck-up son of a vixen. He once was, absolutely, but as he's aged, he's basically just grown up and realized that, gosh, he's not StarClan's great gift to the forest after all. Nonetheless, he's got an ego about the size of the all Clan's territories combined; he thinks very highly of his own opinion, and will gladly listen to others only until they contradict him. When that happens, well, what do they know? He's always right. At least, until he's proved wrong, which doesn't often happen. He in fact flat-out denies it that ever happens. He's always right and that's that. Shadowstar can't bear to lose at anything; a game, a debate, a war. If he technically does lose, he just can't let it go; he must always have the last word or get in the last strike.

Despite the above... attributes... Shadowstar really isn't a bad guy. In fact, he's a really nice guy; very kind to his Clanmates, very protective of them, always stopping by the Nursery and overseeing the apprentices' training. He's quiet and dignified, not overly affectionate, but he usually wears a small, friendly smile around his fellow NightClanners. He does his best to handle disputes wisely and fairly, punishes firmly but not harshly, and is always careful to avoid losing his temper - though naturally, even he has his moments of explosive rage. The minute Shadowstar raises his voice or even starts to snarl, it's best to back down. Just shut up, nod your head, and back away slowly, and he'll move on as if nothing happened. Fail to do so and you will probably end up dead, injured, banished, or put on tick duty for the rest of your life, depending on the offense. But for the most part, Shadowstar's a reasonable guy and keeps the younger crowd firmly but kindly under control.

His attitude toward the other Clans is completely different.

The other Clans are not fit to share a homeland with him. They are not fit to walk along his borders. They are not fit to eat the prey that StarClan so graciously grants them. He only grudgingly respects Dragonstar (“One good cat lumped in with the useless softies.”), will deign to speak politely to Soundstar, and can't be bothered to listen to a word anyone else says unless it's somehow related to NightClan. The deputies and senior warriors might as well not exist -except for Stonefang; Shadowstar despises Stonefang- and the medicine cats are, well, medicine cats. They’re StarClan's chosen, which is the only reason they deserve his acknowledgement. For the regular warriors of the other Clans, Shadowstar has nothing but disdain. What are they, compared to the noble warriors of NightClan? He doesn't see it as a blood problem, per se; he sees it as a culture problem. MoonClanners are raised too soft, SunClanners are wild and thoughtless, and DayClanners are taught to be paranoid and humorless. Now, take a kit from any of those Clans and raise it in NightClan, and you'll have a fine warrior in the making. That's how he views the other Clans – he’s not what we would call a ‘racist’, exactly, but he is the very definition of a chauvinist.

History: Shadowkit was not born under the best of circumstances. His parents had split up over a moon before he was born. And within days of his birth, his father, the aggressive young warrior called Crowclaw, was dead, killed by a savage fox that had been prowling NightClan's territory. Shadowkit and Cinderkit's mother did not grieve for her former mate. The fight that had resulted in their refusal to speak with each other had left a deep resentment between them. Fernwhisker, very privately, felt that the tom had gotten what he deserved. She would raise her two kits on her own, and she would damn well do it right.

And she did. Shadowkit and Cinderkit's mother was a firm believer in 'tough love' - she never gave a second thought to cuffing them over the ear when they misbehaved, and she wouldn't tolerate whining from them, but their genuine needs were always met. The brothers never felt neglected. They had an aunt, an uncle, and grandparents to spoil them, and though their mother was strict about rule-breaking, was never unduly harsh. There would be no silent treatments, no grudges held, no 'grounding' or starving them. She would 'spank' them, so to speak, and that would be that. All would be well. Fernwhisker, a young and energetic queen, was almost always ready to play rough-and-tumble games with her sons, and only too happy to teach them battle moves and hunting techniques. For stories, the kits went to the elders. Their mother had no interest in stories, and no stories to tell.

Shadowkit's brother came down with a terrible case of greencough in his fourth moon of life. He was immediately quarantined, and so Shadowkit was protected from the disease. Within days, Cinderkit's sickness had developed into whitecough, and days after that, he succumbed to the illness and died in his sleep. Fernwhisker was devastated, as was Shadowkit, but both grieved quietly and privately. Hysterics were beneath them both. Depression was something neither of them were 'pathetically weak' enough to develop. Cinderkit was safe in StarClan, Fernwhisker told her remaining son. Safe and, though she privately hated the idea, in their father's care. He would be happy, she promised Shadowkit, and someday they would be together again.

The last two moons of kithood were long and lonely. Shadowkit had never bothered to make friends with the other kits - he had always had his brother to play with. He spent his days by himself, taking comfort in elders' tales and watching the warriors practice battle moves, showing off for the kits and apprentices. When at last he was made an apprentice, Shadowpaw was eager to start learning. His mentor was strict and unsympathetic, but having grown up with Fernwhisker for a mother, Shadowpaw simply assumed that this was the way guardians were supposed to treat their charges. He thrived under Rockfang's increasingly challenging training, enjoyed being pushed past what he'd thought were his limits. So what if he came home with aching muscles every day? "Pain is weakness leaving the body" was his mentor's favorite saying, and Shadowpaw adopted the motto willingly. What didn't kill him only made him stronger.

Shadowpaw kept constantly busy. The moons flew past. He made no special friends, but kept on good terms with most of the other apprentices. Except Marshpaw. The arrogant brown tom simply drove the equally prideful Shadowpaw out of his mind. Their clashing egos finally drove them to blows, and after a vicious struggle, Shadowpaw managed to hurl the other apprentice into the Muddy Swamp. He would have gladly let him die there, but a patrol of warriors, having heard them fighting, had arrived on the scene just as Marshpaw plunged into the sticky mud. He was dragged out with a branch, and Shadowpaw was put on tick duty for a quarter moon, but Marshpaw never bothered him again. He would glare sullenly at the black tom, but never again did he challenge him. Sootpaw smugly accepted this as a surrender and declared himself, in his own mind, the top apprentice in NightClan.

His warrior ceremony came when he was eleven moons old - a moon before Marshpaw, who was the very same age. Shadowstar has never let him forget it, though they have long since mellowed with age and settled their differences. For moons following his warrior ceremony, Shadowstep's ego was all but unbearable. It took a flat-out rejection from a she-cat to bring his head back down to earth. It took a while for his bruised ego to recover, but after it did so, Shadowstep was entirely himself again - he simply swaggered around camp instead of strutting, a seemingly mild improvement but a major step for him. Slowly, as he grew older, his ego deflated little by little, until he was, at last, actually a likable warrior.

At he age of twenty-two moons, Shadowstep received his first apprentice, a shy little she-cat named Robinpaw. He discovered, much to his bewilderment, that being strict and relentless with the young cat's training simply didn't work. His apprentice was terrified of him, and simply broke down in tears every time he raised his voice to her. Utterly confused, he consulted his mother, whose response was to roll her eyes and tell him that she-cats needed to be handled differently and that he ought to try actually encouraging the little cat. Nervous but hopeful, Shadowstep slowly managed to adjust his training methods, and was delighted to see Robinpaw improve under his kinder, more patient instruction. After seven moons of training, which both mentor and apprentice came to thoroughly enjoy, Robinpaw became Robinwing, and Shadowstep found himself bursting with pride not for himself, but for his little apprentice, now his little warrior. The two maintain a good relationship even now.

When he was thirty-four moons old, Shadowstep had a close brush with death that banished his lingering notion that he was utterly infallible. Barely escaping after being cornered alone by a badger made him keenly aware of his mortality, and ever since, he has been far more cautious with his life. And nearly losing his mother -to the same illness that had taken away his brother- brought him the shocking revelation that, gosh, the world didn't revolve around him after all. Fernwhisker was all that mattered for those weeks that she was sick, and Shadowstep was overjoyed, endlessly thankful, and thoroughly humbled when she recovered. From her miraculous survival came his great faith in StarClan. He was, and remains, certain that Cinderkit was watching over their mother, giving her strength as she fought the whitecough.

Very little has happened since then. Shadowstep has mentored one more apprentice since Robinwing, and watched with pride as the young tom grew into a fine NightClan warrior. Thus far he has made no attempt at a relationship with a she-cat, but he truly hopes for a mate and kits someday. Fernshadow has recently moved into to elder's den at the age of sixty-five moons, and Shadowstep has taken his place among the older, more senior warriors of NightClan and, though he no longer swaggers around camp, he doesn't let anyone forget it.

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[sunfrost]

Interesting tom. He'll be a fine addition to NightClan ^__^

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