falconheart - windclan

[ronnie]

name falconheart
age 42 moons
gender male
clan windclan
rank warrior

picture falconheart
summary a large, dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes
physical description

• ¹Body structure
  
• ²Fur colour & patterns
  
• ³Eye colour / impurities
  
• ⁴Flaws and scars

¹Some may say that it's not all about brawn or muscle, that makes a cat. They may say that those powerful, thick muscled cats are just pawns in a battle, who can beat off other cats using only brute strength. But the problem is, they are slow and clumsy on their paws, with all that extra body weight to haul around and try to balance. Falconheart is one such cat. With an unusual size and shape for a WindClan cat, this single problem falls not really on him, but on one of his ancient ancestors who broke the warrior code and fell in love with a ThunderClan tom. When she gave birth to kits, some had her lithe size and quickness, while others were made more for brawn and strength. Thus, Falconheart has ThunderClan blood in him somewhere along his heritage. But his clan mates needn't know this, nor do they care. For his powerful body makes an intimidating opponent against any other cat to go up against. Who says WindClan aren't strong and mean?

Falconheart's body, being quite large, does have its flaws. For one thing, those large paws make it hard for him to stalk up silently on those quick and observant rabbits that his clan mates so yearn for. It also can make him slow and clumsy in battle, and brute strength alone is useless against a quick cat that can dodge every blow. Fortunately he doesn't need to fight any of his clan mates, and in battles he is well paired up with those larger cats from rival clans. He has enormous paws, each toe well defined by the shape and curves of the rounded edges. He has a large, strong head, with broad shoulders and a wide neck to support it. His muzzle is long, and wide, and he has powerful looking ears that are pyramid shaped. Like most cats, daresay. His body does have some WindClan genetics inside. He did come from a mixed WindClan and ThunderClan background, as said. He has a long body, and tall legs to guide him swiftly across the fields; if he wasn't so big.

²A marvelously patterned, beautiful tiger cat. Sleek, glossy, sparkling with youth and energy. His base colour is probably brown, a medium shade of brown at that, with different darks and lights of the colour. Tans and dark browns, and some brownish grays. His coat is not just tiger patterned, but shaded in that natural curiosity and mystery that there is in the species of a feline. In the species of all animals with that strange and beautiful coat of fur. His fur is a medium length, soft and smooth to the touch, but with just a hint of grime and tear and bristle of a usual wild cat. His sleek and glossy coat just doesn't end with brown, though, for there are many other colours, much more beautiful colours, then the one that sticks out plainly as the basic shading of his tabby coat.

Blacks, whites, and even grays. His patterns are so distorted and different and wild, that they are almost impossible to identify by every one's name. With such tabby patterns as he beholds, the black appears more dominant than any other colour on his body until you reach his large head. Most of the fur on his frontal body is a reddish colour, especially when caught in the sun. He keeps his fur glossy and smooth, so it always appears shiny. There is white at the tip of his muzzle, just beneath his nose, which is hardly visible unless you look dead on, or up the fore face of the tom. There are a few more white specks on the underneath of the tom's chin. His belly and chest and neck are a fitting off white colour, tinted only with the natural brown that gives his fur colour variety.

³In the centre of his handsome face, that don't really stick out much in the way that his fur colouring gives in contrast. They are a faded yellow, really not sticking out. They almost seem to drown out his good looks because they are so plain, but in his yellow orbs, like with any other cat's eyes, the warm kindle of life gives strength and energy to them, giving him the power of vision. Where at some point, age causes the retina's to lose strength, which cause fading vision, his eyes are as strong as ever; mostly because he is still a young tom and has many more moons ahead of him to serve his clan. A lot can be seen about a cat from just looking in to their eyes. Life, death, fear, joy, pain, anger, hate... All emotions spark from the central core of everyone's dominant sense, a place that is readable by any living creature gifted with the power of vision.

His eyes, are no exception. However, Falconheart's eyes were marked by impurities, or, colours aside from the basic colour on any creature's eyes. This is very common in animal species, but not as common in humans who usually take that as a sign of 'blindness' or misjudged and ignorantly named 'vision problems'. In cats, however, there is nothing wrong. His eyes are specked with impurities of golden and brown, tans and grays. Most cats have impurities of about the same colours of their pelt, so a black cat may have black flecks through their eyes. White cats may have white flecks through their eyes, although it is very uncommon in a white cat, who is typically home to wall coloured eyes. His flecks are mostly around the bottom of his eyes, away from the jet black pupil, giving an even further faded contrast to his pale, burnt grass coloured eyes.

⁴All warriors have their scars. This tom is definitely no exception to this law, either. Falconheart is a true warrior, still strong and youthful to defend his clan, but filled with a past of fighting and hardship for survival. One of the few visible scars, and perhaps the most life threatening one he had ever received, was a deep scratch at his gullet. The scratch looks as though it had injured him badly, for it still shows even though it looks very old. Like most deep wounds, this one did not heal properly, and a single thorn could reopen it all the way. However, most warriors don't aim for the gullet because that is very close to the throat; and warriors do not kill because of the warrior code. This scar was obviously an accident from a desperate, or very angry, warrior.

Another of his scars is on his shoulder, a very common place scar for warriors. It's not very deep, but it's just long. He has other scars, hidden beneath his thick fur. Some are on his back, others on his leg were just a slight ruffle of the fur may reveal them. There is a bite mark on his tail from his apprenticeship, but it is so faded that no one would see if unless they already knew it was there. The very tip of his ear is torn, however it wasn't from a cat, because this scar looks too clean and not very accurate. Correctly, it was from a thorn when he was on a raid in the ThunderClan camp. The gorse tunnel perhaps, scratched his ear. Or, it was just scratched from one of the many gorse bushes along the more, because the moorland is just full of them, as a replacement for all those missing trees.

personal description

• ¹Arrogant
  
• ²Confident
  
• ³Stubborn
  
• ⁴Short-Tempered
  
• ⁵Rash
  
• ⁶Fiercely loyal
  
• ⁷Gentle : friends + mate
  
• ⁸Justified
  
• ⁹Honourable
  
• ¹⁰Decisive
  
• ¹¹Fears/Dislikes/Likes/Flaws/Goals
  
• ¹²All-in-all

¹ This is one assertive tom. He is very cocky and proud, and typically feels superior above everyone else, except his own clan mates. Other than apprentices and kits, whom he knows he is far better than because of his rank and experience. Falconheart dislikes leaders from the other clans, and will rarely even acknowledge them because in his opinion, they just get in the way. Thinking they were so much better than himself and his clan just because they had nine lives and a name from StarClan? Hah! That just makes them good enough for their clans. But any of those other clans are no much for WindClan's superior skills and speed and survival instincts. His arrogance, as can be seen, is not just for himself and only himself, but also for his clan and his clan mates. He is also proud of his own pride and arrogance, thinking it makes him strong.

To cats of other clans, he seems to be the biggest narcissist that there is in the entire forest; or moorland, seeing as WindClan does not live in a forest. Truthfully, he likes the title of being arrogant, and prefers to be this way because he sees low self esteemed, soft-hearted cats to be weak and stupid, and unable to defend themselves or their clan. He's probably wrong about that, but he can think what he likes, right? Opinions belong to every one. Because of this, he has this common strut that he walks with when around other cats. In our body language, it could be a swagger, but because he's a tom, it's more of a strut. His pride and cocky nature make him literally try and look 'down' upon every non-WindClan, or apprentices and kits, that he can get his eye on. This makes him very bossy and prone to getting on other cats' nerves because of his cocky nature.

² These two attributes just always seem to go together with a certain personality. If someone is arrogant, they are likely to be confident, and vice-versa. Falconheart is no different. Very confident in himself and the satisfaction and victory of his clan, he hardly ever stops to think about actions or doubt himself. It is almost as though he believes that he and WindClan are so perfect that they are infallible. Confidence, however, can one day lead to the tom's downfall, if he doesn't be careful. He never looks back, never accepts that he made a mistake until the evidence in front of him is substantially proven, and even though, he'll argue with it in his mind. He thinks he can do anything and get away with it; he is very ignorant of the warrior code and usually doesn't think twice about walking over on to another clan's territory, or stealing prey.

He very commonly thinks that, no matter how the odds are against him, that he and WindClan will always succeed. He never thinks about the faults or what bad can happen to him or his clan if they jump head first in to a situation. No, it is usually another cat who thinks of all the consequences about making a certain action. Falconheart just doesn't plan ahead too much. This tom feels superior, which leads him to think he can order around any cat he comes across and that they will listen to him without question. He thinks that everyone is proud to be in WindClan just because he is one of them. Although there is nothing wrong with having confidence in your clan, too much can be not only irritating, but could be very harmful. This is just another of Falconheart's many flaws, however.

³ Stubborn. This is one difficult tom to get along with, mostly because he hardly ever listens to you. He doesn't take orders too well, and if he does, it is only because his leader, his deputy, or his medicine cat has ordered it. He won't follow a cat of another clan, no matter what they say. He doesn't really like the idea of 'giving up', and is very stubborn about not doing so. He would like to fight to the death for every problem, and he rarely ever gives up on a problem if it has no solution. Problems are almost always, life or death situations in the mind of this tom. Even if they are the simplest, calmest, and stupidest things imaginable, he doesn't care. He is too stubborn to accept defeat, and can be very frustrating towards other cats when they try to set him on a different course.

When he is talking to a cat, he is very persuasive, or just stubborn, and doesn't want to shut up until they both have heard and understood his opinion. He makes sure that every cat can see from his point of view, and if they don't... Then he just keeps on talking and nagging them until they seem to see from his mind. He doesn't really have much time for anyone else's point of view though, and finds them boring and dumb to listen to so he either just walks off or ignores them completely. Typically, this stubborn tom doesn't even try to at least care about another's view, or try and sympathize with them. If they have a different point of view from him, then they are wrong. He doesn't have much time to spend understanding everyone else's opinion.

⁴ This tom can be very irritable and crabby, and tends to snap very easily. His self control is very flimsy, leaving him to appear impatient, cruel, short tempered, and sometimes just plain mean. If someone is just acting totally stupid around him, he gets irritated at their stupidity and snaps. Unlike others, who might find it funny that they are that stupid, he just finds it annoying and troublesome, almost like a fly buzzing around your ears, and insults them without much care for their feelings. Feelings, he believes, only belong to him, his clan, and especially his mate. He doesn't really care about how cats from any other clan feel; if they did something stupid or annoying enough to be insulted, then that was their own problem and they could take it as personally and weakly as they wanted to. Their hurt and emotions weren't his problem.

The tom is very easily offended, which makes him snap at others. He has a lot of feelings, which leaves him sometimes feeling emotional and distant, and in these stages he prefers to be alone. Mostly, so he can deal with his feelings for himself, and with other cats interrupt these stages, he is much more cranky than he would be on a normal day. Of course, he isn't always mad and short tempered. Most of the time he is, honestly, but like everyone, he has his good days. In this current subject, there is no reason to go on about the good days, however. When the tom throws his fits, they are typically short and effective, and then he just walks away and comes back a little while later after he has calmed down, acting as though nothing had even happened.

⁵ Falconheart doesn't think much before he acts. In truth, he doesn't really think at all before he acts, and just acts out blindly. This can be seriously dangerous to himself and anyone around him, and especially the honour of his clan if he does something really stupid. But Falconheart does have some dignity, and he does have a little bit of self control along with thoughtful clan mates to put him on the right track; if he is willing to listen. If he was alone, however, and someone irritated him to no end from another clan, even if they were on a patrol and he were outnumbered, he would still attack. Why? To defend his feeling and his honour and his clan's dignity. He values all of that a bit too much, and it always ends up causing him and everyone else problems, including the cats from the other clans who weren't even looking to fight the too bold tom from the beginning.

He is also the kind of cat, that, if given a deputy position, and threatened by another clan, would launch an attack immediately without looking for a way to plan or make his clan mate's attack infallible. So it is a good thing for WindClan that he isn't a deputy; but that doesn't mean he has never led a patrol. From a past experience, he should have learned to be more courteous and thoughtful and empathetic to every cat, even those from another clan and to think about his clan mates safety before jumping in to a battle, but it appears that the moral had completely lost him even after what had happened. Or, perhaps not, because the tom has learned a bit about refraining from snapping and causing trouble with other cats, even if it means having to wince as his dignity has been hurt, and being unable to defend it with tooth and claw like he desperately wants.

⁶ Falconheart is loyal to his clan beyond any reasonable doubt. Everything he does is to protect his clan, even if what he had done ends up harming it; in his heart, he had truthfully believed he had done it for WindClan. His loyalty to his clan is not just for the name of WindClan, but from every kit to every elder, and every cat in between. His loyalty was to him as though he must fight for every breathe of it, for if he allowed his clan mates to be harmed, then his clan would also suffer for it. Sometimes he feels as though the safety of the entire clan is his responsibility, which is caused because the tom is very anxious and hates waiting around for things to happen. He is a cat more of action than a cat of thinking and planning and waiting for everything to turn out the way they wished; mostly because the latter hardly ever happened in the way any cat would have expected it to.

Because Falconheart thinks his clan is the best of all the clans, he acts as though they are gods themselves, descended from StarClan, and should lead over the other clans so that they will be grateful. Because not all of his clan mates think this is true, and because the other clans so often spit at WindClan, he is bitter and fierce when it comes to actually protecting it. He always wants to be on the battle patrol, or any border patrol that leads him near the border of a clan that is beyond the neutral status of friendship, a clan that is showing signs of hostility or trouble. He never wants to be left at camp when there is a battle, because he thinks he has to protect everyone. His idea of loyalty is dying for it, if he has to, dying for a meaning. He would fight to his last breathe, if the time ever came for him to have to make that fatal choice, or so he thinks. Perhaps it would be different if the time for that fight ever came up.

⁷ Despite all of impatience and arrogance, his short tempered persistence and stubbornness, and his rash recklessness, like every cat, he has another side to him. Falconheart is not a duo. He is just a regular cat. To his friends, and especially his beloved mate, Ravenflight, he is surprisingly gentle and kind. Around his closest, true friends, he is calm and caring and listens to what they say as though they are a leader. He rarely argues with his closest buddy, and prefers to go on patrols with them, instead of cats he doesn't know as much. Unfortunately he does not care to make any new friends, so it is highly likely that when his current friends are dead and gone, he won't have any new friends. Falconheart always argues that to be true friends, you have to know the other cat and stick up for each other, against everything that could possibly separate them.

To his mate, he is even more shockingly kind. Because he loves her, he is usually soft and gentle, and always resists the temptation to growl at her even if she annoys him. He thinks she is the most important thing in his life, and out of love and care and practiced understanding, he will do everything in his power to make sure the feeling will be mutual between them. Falconheart fears, above all, losing the love for his mate, or her love for him. He cares about her so much that he would die in a heartbeat to save her; or, he thinks he will. Maybe the situation would be different if he had to. Maybe he would find a better way, a way for them to stick together. She is the only thing that he cares about even more than his clan. She is the only one he has ever respected so much that he lets her rebuke him, without even trying to defend himself. With the respect, comes joy and care, and he cares very so about her feelings, almost as though they are the most important things in the world, as though her feelings revolve around what he says and does.

⁸ Falconheart is a rather justified tom, or so, in his mind, perhaps. He always thinks that whatever he does is the right thing, so, in the other point, everything someone else does is automatically the wrong thing, and he constantly scolds them for it. He always seems to have an excuse for what he's doing, and practically just doesn't give much of another thought as long as he can get away with it. He's not like a teenager; when they know they're on the wrong side, they sound scared and defensive, but refuse to admit that they are wrong, even when faced with a terrible situation that they might find impossible to get out of. Falconheart, instead, never thinks he's on the wrong side. Because he thinks so highly of himself, and is so justified with his reasoning and thinking, he thinks they he is always the right, and even his allies could be on the wrong side because they aren't exactly 'him'.

He tries to act all cool and calm when he's around younger cats, because he wants to be a 'role' model. He tries to act indifferent, and pretends to be a 'senior warrior', when everyone else knows just what a hot headed, cranky tom he really is beneath all that hiding. Because of his so called 'justified' demeanor, he gains mixed feelings of awe and respect, and hostility and irritation from his clan mates, and even cats from other clans who see past his act. He also tries to act in charge, giving out orders and such to all the cats around, but he usually just fails, miserably. Mostly because no one actually follows his orders, seeing as he isn't a cat of high position or anything important. Still, he thinks if a new generation is raised and sees him giving out orders, they'll actually listen to him as well.

⁹ Falconheart values honour very highly in the life of the clans. He believes that breaking your clan's honour, or losing your own honour, is basically the greatest mistake or sin, you could ever make. He thinks honour is the most valuable trait for the clans, and the clan that has the most honour [which includes him being in them, of course], is the greatest clan in the forest. And because he belongs to WindClan, he thinks they have more honour than the other clans. Another thought as that WindClan has more honour than all three of the other clans put together. Because of this strange belief of honour that he always comes up with, in a strange sense, he is very protective of his clan, for obviously known reasons. Perhaps if a cat met him, face to face, there would be some understanding between them.

Because he thinks so highly of himself, Falconheart is the kind of tom who may sometimes put himself up even above the warrior code, above StarClan themselves! Because he is a tom of little faith, and he doesn't believe so much in StarClan as other clans cats do, this also makes him believe that the warrior code is rubbish. He basically tries to follow his own kind of code, a code that defends nothing but honour. He believes killing is dishonourable, however, which is why he doesn't kill, and would prefer to just settle things by a fierce fight, where both cats walked away, alive. Another idea of honour, is that catching anything more than five piece of prey a day, is bad. He doesn't want to kill so many animals, because sometimes he feels as though they are doing something wrong by slaying the lives of living things so carelessly. He thinks his clan mates as stupid for believing that only cats were worthy to live freely, because "StarClan" was on their side.

¹⁰ Falconheart is a very decisive tom. Whenever he makes a choice, it is almost instantaneous, and permanent. Such as, when he has chosen to go on a patrol with two certain cats, and another wants to join, he wouldn't let them join because he had already decided on the cats he were bringing with him. Even if a leader of deputy told him to bring that cat, he might just stalk off and go on a patrol alone, rather than accept the cat to come with him. Of course, if he hasn't decided they were already going on the patrol, and was just waiting for more cats to join, this trait wouldn't fall under that situation. He usually thinks more about his pride, and thinks if he undermines his own decisions and allows someone to change them, then he would look weak and foolish around his clan mates. This also makes him sound very bossy and selfish.

In other situations, such as bringing prey to an elder or something like that, if he has decided to do so, nothing can make him change his mind or do something before he does that. It is almost as though he has this certain schedule that he always must follow, and if the schedule is broken or messed up, then it's very bad for him and his clan. It probably has another thing to do with how highly he looks upon honour and dignity. He is very quick to decide, and doesn't really change his mind. Some cat may take ages to decide on where they are going to hunt, and where they wish to go with, and how they want to hunt, but he just makes a quick, 1-2-3 decision and usually never looks away from it. He always believes that if you change your mind, then you are weak. What would happen if you decided to take in a dying cat to help them, but as soon as you brought them to camp you changed your mind and decided not to, and to let them die? That would be cowardly and dishonourable, in his opinion.

¹¹ Falconheart is the sort of tom that fears a lot, despite his arrogant and proud attitude, and stubbornness and justified nature in front of others. What he fears are a wide array of things; fire, dogs, and twolegs; monsters, thunderpaths, and unnatural land; badgers, foxes, and adders; dying, failing, losing someone close to himself; and breresh
taking away his loved one. In the face of fear, he tries to act as strong as possible, but may hurt or panic on the inside. Falconheart dislikes many things, such as; twolegs, other clans, cats from other clans; rogues and loners and kittypets; leaf-bare and cold and lack of prey; StarClan and the Warrior Code; cats of no authority who try to order him around, cats who don't listen to him, the river, swimming, and forests. He doesn't really like much, to be very truthful. What he likes, however few things there are, are very important to him. His clan, himself, his mate especially, the moorland, rabbits, freedom, running, swiftness, defending his honour, and earning respect. He really doesn't like much, just by seeing such a short list.

Despite what he thinks, and perhaps what others see in his cocky personality, Falconheart has many flaws. First of all, he is too proud to see beyond his own nose, aside from the cats of his own clan, after all, and can cause the clan many petty squabbles with the other clans who have either been insulted by him, or offended by such an irritating and selfish kind of warrior. He has surprisingly little, to no support from his own clan mates, and perhaps his closest friends don't even like him as much as he expects they would. Perhaps it is because he dislikes StarClan, and doesn't believe in them, which will lead him to his bane if he doesn't at least keep his rude, uncaring and self centered comments to himself. He cares so much about his mate, that he doesn't even think she can take care of herself; as though he thinks she doesn't have teeth and claws to defend herself in need be. He always has the urge to step in and protect her in case of a fight or some other unfortunate situation that the clan has been forced in to.

He also doesn't know when to stop. Falconheart is the kind of cat that can just keep going and going about the same thing forever. Talking about an annoying cat, this is one that will follow you around, just to keep talking and practically force you to listen. He doesn't understand the word 'shut up' and even if he is ordered to be silent, he might just decide he isn't going to follow orders for that moment. Because he doesn't believe in the warrior code or StarClan, he doesn't really follow the warrior code so he doesn't follow the part "The leader's word is law". One day this could get him exiled if he doesn't change his ways, but for now, luck has continued to play out on his side only because he respects the leader and usually follows the cat's orders out of his own respect for her. Falconheart's only goal in life is to raise a litter of kits. He has a surprisingly passionate love for kits, and has always wanted some of his own. He really wants to be a father, and perhaps the experience would do good for the tom. Perhaps, if he was a father, he would learn a bit of responsibility and care and wariness when it comes to fighting, and start respecting the other clans just because he might realize, that one day, they all used to be these innocent, exciting, and friendly scraps of fur. If he doesn't reach his goal, then perhaps he will never know the truth of what he has hated and disobeyed all along.

¹² Overall, this tom is probably not one you want to meet on a border if you weren't really looking forward to having an argument or fight. He's very easy to anger and offend, and he likes to insult other cats for no reason other than his own enjoyment. He is very cunning and comes up with these wild ideas to get whatever he wants, because he really values what he wants very highly. Sometimes he can be hard to please because this tom is highly ambitious, and because he is so cocky, he believes that everything is perfect, and must be perfect if presented to him. He thinks that everything he does is right, and everything another cat does is wrong. He always thinks his opinions are actually facts, not just ideas and thoughts, and that everyone else should immediately agree with his opinions because he is just so much better than them. He almost views himself as a god, if a god were to exist, which also in his mind, none do. Not even StarClan, which he had been raised in a world where StarClan seems to undermine every movement of a cat's life.

He is stubborn and persistent and decisive; making a very selfish cat. He won't let anyone change his mind, and prefers to ignore another cat's opinions or ideas only because he thinks his own ideas and opinions are always right and better. He gets very angry when a cat tries to force their own opinions and thoughts upon him, but this is the tom that doesn't flinch or stop to think twice about forcing his opinions on them. He can look very dangerous to others, and perhaps deadly, if it weren't for the tom's own code of honour that told him he was not a killer, and that killing was honourless. He prefers to fight and wound, but not to kill, because fighting is the natural part which makes him strong, but killing makes him weak as it removes one enemy from the world that he may one day need to help sharpen his skills and senses. He is very instinctive and usually follows his own nature instead of everyone else's, not really picking up traits or habits from other cats. Besides, he thinks everyone else's traits and habits are stupid, compared to his own. Perhaps the most shocking part of his personality is the startling love and gentle care he gives to his mate, after a life of such ferocity and instinct.

history

• ¹Whelped
  
• ²Kit-hood
  
• ³Apprenticed
  
• ⁴Best mentor
  
• ⁵Brother-Sister trouble
  
• ⁶Dogs and twolegs
  
• ⁷Warrior-hood
  
• ⁸The first apprentice
  
• ⁹Bad judgment
  
• ¹⁰Bewildered love
  
• ¹¹The two meet
  
• ¹²Battle
  
• ¹³Predict the future

¹ It was many moons ago. Dark found light, and they courted to give birth to three, healthy newborn kits. But the story goes deeper than this. Let's begin. On the night of the new moon, two warriors, one male, one female, were left at camp to guard the entrance. That moon, tension was sprung between the clans. It was leaf-bare, and prey was getting harder and harder to find. More cats were left behind than usual to defend the camp, and instead of one to defend the entrance, two were sent to defend. Snowtail was a light silver tabby queen with golden eyes. She was gentle and caring, but also very protective of her clan. Nightpelt was a dark tabby tom, with amber eyes. He was strong and muscular, fierce, proud, loyal, but very caring. The two had barely met properly before. Though they had grown up in the same nursery together, trained together, and became warriors within the same moon as the other, they had never really spoken. That night, the two cats finally broke the veil of hidden secrets and spoke to each other like never before.

It was many moons later, after finding themselves falling in love and joy, when Snowtail found she was to have kits. She and Nightpelt were both overjoyed. The birth went extremely smooth, which was surprising seeing as the kits had been born well beyond the due date. They were very big, much bigger than the average litter, from the moment they were born. There were three in all. One had inherited her mother's silver tabby fur, and her father's amber eyes. Another inherited their mother's silver fur, but had their father's dark tabby stripes and darker tint, but then had his mother's golden eyes. The other, was basically the exact version of his father. Big, strong, muscular, with amber eyes and dark tabby fur. The only difference was a few white markings on his muzzle and chest and underbelly. He was named Falconkit, for his falcon feathered like fur colour. His sister, looking more like her mother, was named Dovekit. His brother, who was a blend of his mother and his father, was named Owlkit, after the snowy owl. Their parents loved birds, and found a bird that would match each of their kits. After the hunters, falcon and owl, for the males, and the delicate beauty, dove, for the female.

² Falconkit had practically the average kithood, to start out with. He loved to play, and was constantly causing trouble along side his brothers and sisters. The only thing that could isolate him from the other kits was the fact that he was so much bigger than them. Although he at first found being so big as a pride, he realized that his brothers and sisters and other den mates were actually scared of him, which made them decide they wouldn't play with him because they were afraid that such big paws and body structure would hurt them if they dared. He felt rather angry and hurt at the fact that they wouldn't let him play with them over something he couldn't control, but he did wonder why he was so much different than them. He was muscular and strong, with broad shoulders and a strong neck, made for fighting and strength. They were much smaller, with thin, lean, and agile bodies made for running and dodging and making quick blows and then running back just out of reach. So he turned to his father for consoling, and his father had told him about their heritage.

Very var back, past Nightpelt's own father the code had been broken. Nightpelt's father, Stormheart, was a kit of mixed blood. Stormheart's father, was actually a ThunderClan warrior, and his mother was a WindClan she-cat. The clan had been furious when they'd discovered the secret, and for many moons they had pondered over what they should do with the kit. In the end, they decided, that he was just a kit, and it was not the kit's fault that his parents had betrayed the clan and the warrior code. They let the half clan kit grow up in WindClan, and because the tom was muscular and strong, and had a strength that they both envied and feared, he grew respected because of his battle skill. Because of this respect, he soon earned himself a mate, a WindClan mate. They courted, and, after many moons, gave birth to two kits. One was male, one was female. They both had inherited the ThunderClan body; broad shoulders, muscles, and more strength than swiftness. One of them was Stormheart, Nightpelt's father. The clan soon had forgotten about the betrayal, and, no one cast around the blame any longer.

Stormheart, along his long life, found a mate as well. They gave birth to four kits, but two died at birth. Nightpelt was the only kit in the litter who survived, who bared ThunderClan blood. His brother had the average body of a WindClan cat, small and lean. Stormheart understood his son's frustration, and told him that if he kept an open mind and did not blame his littermates and den mates for isolating him, than he too would become a great warrior one day; feared and respected. Falconkit vowed that he would become just like his father, but something cold had gotten in to his gut as well. He soon began to resent his own littermates, and his eyes would peer at them with a coldness that only added to the fear that they felt for him. Falconkit was naturally jealous and cocky, because he picked up those traits from his father, and because of the 'injustice' or so he called it, he earned more and more of his bad traits along his personality. He spent days pondering heritage on his own, and became very sullen. Near his sixth moon, he decided that he would still treat his littermates as siblings, but he would never respect or love them again. His dark feelings didn't last, however, because he soon remembered the one thing that all kits yearn for, the moment they are born.

³ On the day of his ceremony, Falconkit was so excited that he had forgotten what he has promised amongst himself during his lonely isolated kithood. He had forgotten his resent and anger and irritation around his littermates, and the feelings of anger and injustice that would course through his veins as he watched them playing, without him. He bounded up to his littermates and they all chattered excitedly, talking about what they would do on their first day, and everything they had longed for. But then his brother, Owlkit said something that perked his memory. "I can't wait to go practice battle skills with Dovekit. We'll make the greatest pair!" Falconkit felt hurt and angry that his brother had so easily left him out, and his eyes had grown cold, but also hurt. "Yeah, right," he had responded, but there was such a darkness and loneliness in his mew that both his littermates fell silent and looked at their paws, almost in the stance of shame, as though they regretted what they had done. Falconkit turned away from the pair and sat a little ways off, refusing to look at them for the rest of the ceremony. But he couldn't hide the pride in his eyes when he saw his siblings become apprentices; before he was named apprentice.

Then, it was his turn. He had grown arrogant and proud during his kithood, and there was hardly a stir of fear or self consciousness as his name was called. The large kit raised his tail and his muzzle to his leader, and had walked forward proudly, feeling the stares of his clan mates burning curiously in to his fur. "Falconkit, you have reached your sixth moon," his leader had said. "It is time for you to learn not only how to be a WindClan cat, but to be a WindClan warrior." The words "WindClan warrior" coursed through him and filled him with a sense of duty and pride that he would forever carry; an honour and justified feeling for his clan that he had never felt before. At one time he had almost decided to go and join ThunderClan, where his size would be welcomed among all those other cats. But now, he realized then, he was glad he had stayed in WindClan. If would have been a mistake, leaving the greatest clan in the world. When he was named Falconpaw, and was given a mentor, he couldn't have been more proud. He thought that day was the most exciting time of his life. He found his mother and father after the ceremony, and he saw the pride that had sparked in their eyes as they saw him.

His mother had tried to lean forward and lick down a ruffled hair on the top of his head, but she held back, only because she did not want to embarrass him. And she knew, with some sadness, that he was no longer 'her little kit' anymore. He was growing up. Nightpelt had yowled with delight and whacked his son in the shoulder with his tail, a sign of pride and joy that his father passed through to his son. By the end of that day, Falconpaw had gone out in to the moorland for the first time, and saw his beautiful homeland. He wanted to run forever across the dips, and race to the horizon, which would never end. He had never seen the moorland from this view before, and it amazed him to see such beauty. It was nice there, the wind and the soft grass tickling his paws, the sun that beat down on him, warming his still kitten soft fur; the stars that reflected from him at night. He had learned a lot from being a kit, but he had never learned it like this. He was truly becoming an apprentice, now.

⁴ Falconpaw was even more proud of the mentor he had been given during his ceremony. Ashstorm was the greatest warrior in WindClan, in his opinion. Strong and proud, fierce and caring, he was highly respected from all the cats. And because Falconpaw was given Ashstorm as a mentor, he was respected from even his older den mates, and some of the younger warriors. He realized that most of the senior warriors hardly paid him any attention, though, as if he wasn't good enough to be one of them. Falconpaw vowed that one day, he would show them all, too. The smug apprentice looked up to his mentor as a sort of a role model, and idol, if you may, and always followed Ashstorm's lead. He believed that Ashstorm was invincible, and he had loved his mentor the moment the gray tom had taken him out of camp on his first day, while both of his litter mates spent the day stuck in camp, cleaning out the elder's den. Boring jobs, that a true warrior would never have to deal with. It made him feel superior to them, and he often sneered at them because of that.

His mentor taught him how best to fight using the skills that Falconpaw had, which was muscle and power and size. He never isolated his apprentice even though Falconpaw was starting to become even bigger than his own mentor. He never told Falconpaw not to battle skirmish with his own den mates just because he was too big, or that he should feel ashamed or un WindClan like because he was different. He knew of Falconpaw's heritage, and rather than scolding him about it and forcing the warrior code in to the apprentice's mind, he taught Falconpaw that he should always keep a clear mind, and follow his own paw instead of the path everyone wanted him to make. His mentor was very lenient, allowing Falconpaw to make many mistakes and then helping him to solve them. One day Falconpaw asked his mentor why he made him fix his mistakes, and why he had allowed him to make them to begin with. "Because, little one,"

[/b] Ashstorm had replied, "if you don't make mistakes, how would you ever learn anything?" Falconpaw had pondered the question for a long time before he understood. If you don't make mistakes, you won't learn what the wrong way is, and what the right way is. Better to make a mistake in the beginning and learn from it, than to make a mistake in the end and have that mistake be a burden to the clan.

Falconpaw trained very hard, because he was desperate to impress his mentor and his parents, his siblings and denmates, and especially his clan. From the start, he had little faith towards StarClan, but around that time he still believed that they existed. He never prayed to StarClan when he caught prey, though. He believed prey had their own ancestors, or some other kind of 'god' that have given them birth, and he didn't think StarClan was all that special anyways. Just a bunch of dead cats in the stars, right? Why should he believe in that nonsense? Dead cats? Sure, he knew dead cats, dead everything had to go somewhere. But he didn't think they were the creators, or that they knew everything just because they died. He was very doubtful about that, and one day, he expressed his thoughts to his mentor. Ashstorm had smiled. "That's good, Falconpaw. You are thinking for yourself. Never let someone think for you; but make sure when you think for yourself, you know what you are really thinking about." The words had confused Falconpaw. Ashstorm was the kind of tom that always made him think, and it was a good experience for Falconpaw to have the tom ask him questions as such in almost a riddle like form. It made him feel even better about his mentor, if that were possible.

⁵ The siblings had gone through moons of training, for Falconpaw, mostly separately, but for them, mostly with each other. One day he noticed that Owlpaw wouldn't even look at, or speak to his sister, and Dovepaw was the same towards him. For awhile he decided it wasn't his business; and besides, why should he care about them when they hadn't given a care about him through most of his life? But soon he began to find them very annoying, with their stupid looks and dumb, petty squabbles. He just wanted to rest for once in the den without feeling his fur burn as they shot angry looks at one another. The next morning, he decided to take things in to his own paws. He asked Falconpaw if he and his siblings could all practice working together to take down prey, and surprisingly enough, all the mentors agreed to have their apprentice test their skills along side each other. Falconpaw had led them to a little ways from their mentors, then turned around to speak to them. "Owlpaw, Dovepaw, what's going on? Why don't you tell me anything?" He demanded, feeling frustrated that they were still practically ignoring each other, and him. They both remained sullenly quiet, when angered him further.

"Please, brother! Tell me what's wrong. Why don't you treat me like I'm part of the family too?" He could have wailed with distress as the word family parted from his lips. Owlpaw suddenly looked up, as though surprised that Falconpaw was considering himself part of the family. He looked rather dumbfounded for a moment, but then the expression cleared. Owlpaw was always the more thoughtful and gentle one of all three of the siblings. He almost looked ashamed and guilty, and also rather sad, but he looked calmly at his brother as though considering his feelings. "I'm sorry. But why should you know? You've hardly spoken a word to us since we were born. Why should we treat you as part of the family? You don't even look like a WindClan cat, and you don't even look like our brother" he murmured, rather scornfully, and his mew was cold. He was too scared to tell his brother why they had fought, but Falconpaw didn't know that, and the poor tom looked as though he had been bitten. He had felt it as an insult, and began to snarl angrily. Even Dovepaw looked up now, almost frightened.

"Spoken to you? You've never treated me like part of the family! You hate me, because my ThunderClan blood shows more than yours"! He hissed, not even realizing that they had never been told that they had ThunderClan blood in them. "I don't speak to you because you've never cared about me. Never!" The tom turned to stalk away, and now it was his sibling's turn to look as though they had been bit. "Brother!" Dovepaw mewed, desperately, but Falconpaw ignored her. "Please, wait! We've been fighting because... Because I love someone," she blurted out. Falconpaw froze. So this is the stupid reason? He thought. It's so dumb! He turned to fix a cold look at on his siblings, and he felt such a violent anger inside of him, that he could hardly care what they thought of him anymore. They were his siblings no longer. "Love?" He hissed scornfully. "And when has love come to a demon in angel's skin? You cannot love, because you are no better than barren. You hate your own brother, so I will hate you too. I will hate well, and it will be your fault," a vengeful feeling of anger filled his heart, but he was beyond reasoning, and the tom fled across the moorland, ignoring the desperate cries of his shocked siblings.

⁶ When Falconpaw stalked away from his littermates that terrible day, he had made another promise. To never care for them again. Though they were his littermates, his own flesh and blood, they had betrayed him and lied to him, and he didn't want anything to do with them. The siblings began to grow isolated again, and, though he desperately yearned for solace, he was too angry to forgive them, and all three were caught up between anger and need, unable to forgive. His mentor had sensed his apprentice's pain and anger, and had spent much of Falconpaw's time away from them and tried to take his mind off of his siblings by having him focus on training. It did work, to an extent. Then everything changed. One day, his mentor was out on the moorland, so focused on teaching Falconpaw another lesson, that he didn't hear or sense the danger until it was too late. The dog was already upon them, and Ashstorm screeched and launched himself between Falconpaw and the dog. The old tom was no match for the beast, and the dog knocked him out of the way with a vicious slash. It turned to finish of Ashstorm, and Falconpaw jumped forward and slashed its back leg.

The apprentice was no match for a dog, either though, and he darted away, fleeing towards camp. He didn't make it far when a flash of black came from the trees, and his father was beating back the dog. He stopped, and turned, and only when the dog was fleeing did he rush past his father and reach his mentor. "Ashstorm!" He had wailed. As his father caught up to him, the old gray tom raised his head. Ashstorm didn't even seem to realize the state of his wound. It was fatal. The apprentice crouched beside his mentor until the tom passed on, and in that moment, his hatred and bitterness towards the world just grew stronger. He hated the dogs, and the twolegs who 'tamed' them, he hated his siblings for not being there for him, and he hated his father for not coming soon enough to save his mentor. For a moment, he was too angry to say anything, but walking home, he felt a lot of his anger fall away and be replaced by grief. He couldn't hate his father... It wasn't fair. But his mentor was dead, and that was all that went through his mind.

⁷ That was probably the worst day he had ever had in his life. Walking home, Falconpaw and his father were greeted by the leader, who was both shocked and grief stricken to hear about Ashstorm's death. But he was also impressed by Falconpaw's courage in just standing up to the dog for even a split second. He called the clan together for a meeting, and then called Falconpaw forward. Falconpaw was aroused from his stunned grief, momentarily to feel excitement about becoming a warrior at least. But he still felt the pain on his mentor's death, and felt as though it were his fault, so his mew was unusually subdued and wary when he said "I do". But when he heard his name, Falconheart, for his brave heart and stone courage, he felt a smallest prickle of pride in his chest. Perhaps he was courageous, perhaps this way true, that he was strong. But he felt as though he could never become as great a cat as his mentor was. And that made him ashamed.

The night of his ceremony, he kept guard, listening intently for dogs and twolegs, and thinking over what had happened, and what was to come. How many had died during his lifetime? How many had died before him? How many would die in the moons to come. Somewhere inside, he felt very tired and resigned, and part of him just wanted to give up completely, and to follow his mentor in to the unknown. His belief in StarClan was even less now, and he felt scornful and angry whenever he thought about the so called ancestors who tried to control everything a warrior did and didn't do. What was the point of living if you were forced to follow some stupid code? That wasn't freedom. That was slavery. The tom felt a deep anguish stirring in his gut that night, but it also brought a sense of peace when he saw his mentor's body, free from the anguished throws of death, almost seeming to be restored to being a warrior once more. One part of him wanted to give up, but, the fighter part told he had had to keep going, for his mentor's sake. And he did just that.

⁸ Many moons after he became a warrior, Falconheart had begun to feel happier than he had soon after Ashstorm had died. He took part in his warrior duties, and did what he thought best to help his clan. There was still a small belief of StarClan in the back of his mind, but he was already breaking the warrior code, so the others saw, but to him, he was living. Somewhere along the way, the leader decided it was time to give Falconheart an apprentice, and so he held a ceremony after he told the tom who and when it was going to happen. Falconheart felt very proud as he sat down near the other mentors and watched as two beautiful kits walked forward to be given their names. They were both females, with soft fur and pretty eyes. One especially caught his eyes, a very attractive female. Her fur was a silvery sheen, and she was so lithe and tiny, that he thought a gust of wind could blow her right over. But she was just so pretty, with those green eyes, he felt his heart melting with gentle care at the sight of her. He almost felt like a father would have, protective and friendly and full of excitement.

Which one was she? He only knew his apprentice's name, and, he hadn't really met the kits any time other than when they were first born. So he didn't know which apprentice he was getting, and wasn't sure if she was friendly and loyal or not. Still, he couldn't help but hope that he would be given the pretty she-cat to train. Of course, the other one was very pretty as well, and he wouldn't be too disappointed to get her instead, but there was something about this one that caught his eye more than the other. Falconheart wasn't disappointed at all. He was given Featherpaw, the prettiest one, as his apprentice. She was very gentle and soft, and he was shocked to see the awe in her eyes as they first looked upon each other that noon when they had touched noses. He felt a deep pride stirring inside of him as he looked down upon the petite she-cat. He couldn't wait to give her a first day that she would really like. He felt rather confused, too, though, because he wasn't sure where he should start. He wondered if Ashstorm had felt like that when he was training Falconheart, but he pushed the thought away. His mentor had been experienced and knew exactly what he was doing before he had even touched Falconheart's nose that morning many moons ago.

⁹ Falconheart soon was making good leeway with his training, teaching his apprentice all he could know. He actually started with trying to teach her things that would be good for her strengths, speed and swiftness, dodging and darting around. For many moons, he was proud of, and surprised of the amazing progress she was making with training. She listened to everything he had said, and, she never seemed to forget what he said because the next morning, or the next assessment, she knew exactly what he had taught her, and used everything she had learned to her advantage. He felt even more proud, and he grew more arrogant than anyone could have imagined. The warrior was slowly becoming more like his present self, and as time went on, he was proving to be a great bane to himself and to WindClan. No cat would dare say it to his face, that he was too smug for his own good, because he could be dangerous when angry, but they all thought it, and many cats whispered about him behind his back. But everyone loved Featherpaw, because of her great personality, and Falconheart once saw even his littermates, now warriors, Owlclaw and Dovefeather, looking at her with some sense of pride, and also of excitement. Falconheart one day thought it was time for his apprentice to go out on her own and show her skills. This was perhaps, his greatest mistake. He had not planned properly, and this mistake was something that he would remember for the rest of his days, beyond learning from it.

He sent her out to the moorland to catch as many rabbits as she wanted, and, he waited for awhile before deciding to follow her. He couldn't find her. He was confused and very surprised at her speed; he didn't think he had given her that much time to run off. He picked up on her scent, however, and began to follow it. The tiny she-cat had gone very far in a short time; he was startled at her speed. He found rabbit blood along the trail and knew she had made a kill, but he wasn't sure where she had buried it. Perhaps she had taken it with her. He continued following the trail, and sure enough, he found more blood up ahead. There, he found two rabbits. He guessed she had just realized that it was too much of a hassle to carry her kills with her, so she had tried to bury them beneath some tall gross and in some gorse bushes to hopefully prevent other predators from noticing the kill, and stealing it from her. That was something Falconheart had learned from Ashstorm, and something he had decided it would be worth mentioning to his apprentice along the way. He hadn't spent a lot of time telling her to, though, and was surprised she had remembered that far back. His heart swelled at the thought of what a great warrior she would make when she earned her name. She was certainly a brilliant hunter and very thoughtful, with a powerful memory that well surpassed his intellect.

But as he followed her, something cold and heavy filled his chest. What was she doing? She was heading straight for the border. Was she chasing a rabbit and had been too excited to catch it to look where she was going? He stiffened, and bristled more as he carried on, and very soon he found exactly where his apprentice had went. She had stumbled across an old badger set, and startled by the sudden experience by the creatures, had tried to fight them. But the badgers had killed her easily. As Falconheart looked down at her motionless little body, he felt an unbelievably fury like nothing he had ever felt before stirring inside of him... "No!" He moaned, horrified as he looked at her, bloodied and motionless on the scarlet grass. "Featherpaw," his mew turned to a whisper as he dropped down beside his apprentice, trembling uncontrollably as he looked at her. No... This can't be... I'm so sorry, Featherpaw, the tom closed his eyes, and, filled with grief, threw back his head and howled his fury to the stars. At once he was reminded of StarClan. "StarClan!" He snarled furiously, emptiness burning in his dark orbs. "You are nothing but lies and idols created by foolish, weak minds of cats who want something more than to die in darkness! you don't exist! If you did, then she wouldn't be dead. A cat this young would never have died, because according to the medicine cats you are merciful and kind. You would never have allowed such a young cat to have died, if you existed, you miserable old fairy tales!" His eyes were full of hate and disgust. They are not fair.

After the death of his apprentice, Falconheart wandered aimlessly around the camp, not really paying attention or doing much. He felt as though his heart had been broken, and he felt guilty about his apprentice's death, as though it were his fault she had died. And it was. He had sent her out there, and she had died because he told her to go. The clan could only watch as he cursed himself furiously for what he had done.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[ronnie]

His siblings looked at him with terrible pity, but even they could do nothing but watch him struggle. But one day, as he sat in the clearing feeling nothing but self pity, something drew him out of the depths of struggle. He saw her, beautiful, amazing, brilliant. Her jet black fur, her golden eyes, he was so attracted to her fur and her beauty, that he suddenly felt a terrible confusion. He was completely bewildered.

Did he love this she-cat? So soon after his apprentice's death? He almost felt a shame as he remembered his apprentice lying there, her beautiful fur just wasted now. She was gone, lost; forever. But this she-cat... He could barely remember her name. He realized she was a den mate, a warrior. Robinfeather, he thought, and even the name was beautiful in his mind. Oh, dear Robinfeather, he cooed. He was too scared to go up and talk to her, so for moons, he just watched her, hiding behind his own mask of fear and confusion as he waited for the 'right' time, so he called it. He waited until his grief over his apprentice's dead lessened, and until he no longer saw the she-cat dying in his sleep. He waited until his heart was clear and pure, and he felt completely confidence in him.

¹¹ Finally, they met. He walked up to her one morning, after he had followed her out of camp, and when he first spoke to her, he was both frightened, nervous, and determined. He carried on a conversation for a very long time, until finally, he gathered to courage to say I love you. When he had finally said it, although he still felt a deep terror of being rejected, he suddenly felt clear headed and relieved. He had finally said it. After many moons, the two cats both felt the love stirring in their hearts together, and, with nothing more to stand in their way, they became mates. However, they had not yet given birth to kits, or expect any kits to be born any time soon. Falconheart realized his greatest goal was to become a father.

¹² One day, Falconheart was on a patrol with a bunch of cats. It was probably good luck that so many cats were put on that patrol, because on the border with ShadowClan, they had a fight. Falconheart jumped in immediately, excited at the chance to claw someone's fur off. The fighting was very thick, and vicious, and many cats were injured. Falconheart was grappling with a huge ShadowClan tom when the cat ripped open Falconheart's belly, creating a blood red stream. The tom screeched in pain and anger as he fell to the ground, a puddle of blood slowly forming around his body. Fortunately for him, a back up patrol arrived just in time to drive out the remaining ShadowClan warriors, and the border was marked very strongly to warn ShadowClan of never crossing the border again.

Falconheart, injured, was able to walk home when the medicine cat covered his belly with cobwebs to stem the bleeding. Many other cats were wounded, and one died from an accidental bite, but Falconheart knew no one could help that. Those were the expenses of war, and they all had to deal with them. Falconheart, was more changed now. He still hated his siblings, but he still needed them as well, and they had never made up for their fighting. After the fight, though, back in camp, he realized they were shifting far more closely to him than they ever used to.

¹³ Who knows what will happen to Falconheart in the future. Will he and his litter mates ever make up, or will they continue fighting and angering each other until the end of their lives? Do they still feel nothing for their brother? Will Falconheart achieve his goal of becoming a father and successfully raising young ones? Maybe one day, all of this will happen. Until then we must wait and see, and we will only know of what has already happened.