Past Audition Biographies

Blackpaw was given the prefix Black for his black markings They have the suffix Paw for their apprenticeship.

APPEARANCE
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Blackpaw has all the potential in the world to be a large cat. He's leggy, like many of those who are constantly growing, and he's thin as a branch during leaf-bare. Not that he doesn't eat enough to put on weight. Potential, is all he will ever have. Blackpaw will grow up to be a tall, lean cat, with exceptionally long whiskers.  He'll eventually cease to look like someone has been starving him, but he'll be older than fifteen moons by time that happens. He'll develop muscle along his shoulders and haunches, allowing him to finally, properly, look like a cat from RiverClan rather than WindClan. The only thing that could have done him better, were if he were to sprout a thick coat of glossy fur, that lets him look like a cotton-puff when angry. 

As it is, his fur is short and sleek. It holds the quality of shine and health that most RiverClan cats enjoy, and he's quite proud of it. Blackpaw is made up of two colors; black and white. White, for the most part, dominates his fur. Starting at his right eye, however, the black begins to take control. From his right eye, over his head and down his spine the color black dominates. It dips down his sides slightly, and marks part of his hind left leg. His long tail, is also pitch colored. Most of the dark spots are connected to each other. His nose, and his jaw are more or less the only exceptions to this rule. 

If there were anything to note about Blackpaw's appearance, it might be his eyes. Green as a leaf, they're absolutely lovely. However, they're a bit lazy in appearance. Not in the meaning that they don't move with his brain's command, but in the way that they seem to be perpetually half-lidded. As if he couldn't be bothered to open his eyes all the way. It's by no fault of his own, only biology that this happened. It perhaps lends itself to his more relaxed and easy-going nature. No one is going to accuse him of staring violently at someone, at least, not without knowing him first. 

PERSONALITY

The sky is blue? The grass is green? Blood loss kills cats? Well, okay then. You must have some idea of what you're talking about because you can't be that stupid. Well, alright you can, but he's not going to say that to your face. Blackpaw has a hard time saying 'no' directly. Sure he can deny you what you want, but he's going to take the long way of getting there to actually say it. There won't be a lot of stuttering, just a series of long sentences with the denial hidden deep in them. Also, he'll probably try and skedaddle right before you realize he's just told you 'no, go eat a steaming pile of..well, nothing anyone ought to eat.' The best part is, he'll do it with that quiet little smile, and a gentle attitude.

That gentle attitude is a trademark of his, you see. There never seems to be a rush for this tom when situations aren't emergencies. Blackpaw is entirely, at first glance, relaxed about everything. You'll not see him with his tail in a knot about nothing. He takes his place as medicine cat apprentice very seriously you understand. He's aware that the eyes of the Clan tend to wander to some cats more than others, and he's one of those who might get a second look or two. Blackpaw is determined that when someone takes the time to look in his direction, frazzled and upset is not what they'll see. If nothing else, he's good at repressing his emotions until the time is right in which to express them. Even if that's not for awhile. No one would question a bush that's been thoroughly beaten by a furious apprentice, now would they? Surely not. 

Blackpaw is the sort of cat that values the opinions of others more than his own most of the time. He figures that they can see him from the outside, and how he portrays himself. If he could do that himself, perhaps he would agree that they are right about him. As it is, Blackpaw does his best to stay well liked in the eyes of other cats. If that's not do-able, then he'll roll with the blows. After all, his mother used to tell him that a smile or a laugh was the best way to combat someone thinking that they're hurting his feelings. His accepting attitude might make him seem a little dim, but if others want him to play a bit of a fool, well, as long as he's doing his job correctly what's the true harm? He's happy to make others feel happy, even at the cost of himself. He knows the truth, and that's that. 

Despite the aspect that he's willing to let other cats proverbially talk down to him, he's surprisingly sarcastic. Perhaps it's the fact that he does it with a smile on his face, and a glimmer in his eye. Personally, Blackpaw finds it hilarious that there are those that think they've got the upper-paw. He'll chirp and purr his answers, and duck his head accordingly, accepting their words and then twisting them around. For all the foolishness he'll put out, Blackpaw is not stupid. He just merely knows that it does a Clan good to find humor in someone rather than pick each other apart and bicker and snarl. Even if that reason exactly, is why he is rather fond of his mentor's personality. It perhaps doesn't hurt that his mentor's words seem to roll of his back like water from a duck's feathers. It's either that, or he just simply doesn't get it. 

You see, one must be clear and straight-forward with Blackpaw. While he's not stupid, he's also not very likely to take a hint. Either because he doesn't care to, or he's using polite-civil manners to ignore any hints that are dropped and letting others think that he simply doesn't pick them up. As stated, Blackpaw isn't stupid, and he knows himself far better than anyone think they know him, well, on the inside at least. He also finds it rather amusing to watch other cats try not to lose their temper as he blatantly ignores polite hints to leave or drop the subject.  Having others realize their manners are easily discarded is sort of a hobby of his. Not a polite one, nor a good one, but a hobby none-the-less. 

Despite his faults, he's a friendly cat. He likes to talk, and he adores his friends. It's perhaps borderline possessiveness that he bears towards cats he considers his. The normal hostility between Clans is hard to find in him. Oh, he's aware that fights will happen and injures and deaths will be occurring. It's merely he's fairly sure that medicine cats are something that are capable of a bit of wiggle room. Blackpaw will happily wiggle about all the long day if he must. He's not quite a pacifist, but he's not one to launch claws first into a fight. 

The last thing one ought to know about Blackpaw, is quite simply, he's honest. Perhaps not plain-spoken, but honest. Lying, to him,  is perhaps one of the worst things one could do to someone they care about. Which is why, when the news is hard, or unpleasant, he does his best to be gentle about it. Blackpaw refuses to break this code of his, even when he'd probably be better off doing so. It's something that keeps him relatively on the straight-and-narrow, and at the very least, makes him feel a little better about himself. 


relaxed -  gentle - people pleasing - good humored - sarcastic - talkative - won't take a hint - honest - friendly - genuine 


FAMILY MEMBERS

Nightear - Grandfather
Shellheart - Grandmother

Raventail - father 
Whitenose - mother

Rookpaw - brother
Adderpaw - brother
Shadepaw - Sister
Tinypaw - Sister


HISTORY


There are families that are small, and they love each other. There are families that are big and hate each other. Then there are those families that make you both envious and annoyed by the sheer amount of sunshine that seems to radiate from their very cores. Raventail and Whitenose loved each other very much. Sometimes, some might say, perhaps a little too much.  After all, Whitenose waddled around with a belly so round the Medicine cat nervously watched her, and absolutely forbade her from wandering from the Camp alone.  It was perhaps interesting to note that the day she delivered her litter, she'd been doing nothing more strenuous then grooming what bits of her mate she could reach. Raventail had been tolerating her fussing, with good humor known between them. The chaos had started at mid-day, and didn't end until the moon was almost half-way in the sky. 

When all was said and done, five kits were suckling at their mother's belly.  Raventail had only stared in shock at the tiny bodies, and Whitenose was sleeping deeply. The young father had to be escorted out of the nursery by a considerate Queen, who assured him they'd look after all the kits and their mother and he ought to get some sleep. The next day, he'd brought his mate fresh-kill, and to name their youngsters. Rook-kit, was the oldest, and deep black like his father. Adderkit bore white paws on all four legs, and Shadekit was a mish-mash of black and white. Then had been Black-kit, yet another little one with mish-mashed colors, and then itty bitty Tinykit. Their youngest daughter had been the runt, and a concern if she were to survive. 

They shouldn't have worried. She pulled through, though with a bit of help from Yellowstrike. Soon, all five kits were causing havoc and pestering anyone who would make eye contact with them. The five siblings were close, and often more than not, no more than a fox-length from one another. The dominate personality was Rook-kit, followed by Tinykit, Adderkit, Shadekit and then Black-kit. More often than not the siblings would split into teams and pretend to be opposing Clans and fight to the 'death'. Their father would remind them killing was socially acceptable, and they'd pretend to play a decent game for awhile. Before long though, someone would be choking on their own final breath of air. A quick jab with a paw, would send all five kits squealing after each other though. 

If nothing else, this entire situation quite cured the happy young parents of any overpowering desires to have more in the way of family.

The older the bunch of kits grew, the more trouble they seemed to get into. Tinykit was forever trying to outdo Rook-kit, while Shadekit seemed to be there to keep score between their siblings. Adderkit spent time with the elders, especially senile Nightear. Nightear's croaking voice and stories of bloody glory kept the young tom entertained for hours. Black-kit..he seemed to flit wherever seemed fitting. Mostly, one might say, would be underpaw. It seemed cats were forever tripping over the splotchy tom.

Perhaps that would explain Nettleheart's dispassionate response to his becoming his apprentice. Blackpaw didn't blame him, nope! He was pretty sure it was a fair response.

apprentice

The mentor and apprentice slowly became acquainted with one another.  Nettleheart's jabs and crankiness equalized by Blackpaw's decent nature. The young apprentice endeavored to not let the grumpy tom's words sink into him like claws. When it grew to be apparent that it would be easier said than done, the young tom seemed to sink into a quiet depression. It was only by regular visits with his family that he perked up more and more as the suns slipped by. 

The first leaf-bare of his young life, was a rather startling one to say the least. The lack of prey and illness that lurked about, left many easy prey for said illness. The elders, Blackpaw could accept simply because, well, they were old. The Queen who came to them talking about her kits, that, that Blackpaw had a hard time reconciling with. The first kit was agony to the young tom, who felt partially responsible. The following two kits, seemed to deflate his rather natural personality. Their mother? Blackpaw found him disgusted at himself that he felt no more the a beat of pity for her. 

By StarClan's grace and willing though, no other cat vanished to StarClan that leaf-bare, and new leaf came into being. 

SHARPFROST // she was originally given the prefix PALE for her pale gray and white fur at birth. her prefix was changed to SHARP when she received her warrior name in honor of her unusually long claws. she has the suffix FROST for her icy personality and in honor of her deceased mentor..

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{{ APPEARANCE //

• SHARPFROST #1
• SHARPFROST #2
• SHARPFROST #3
• SHARPFROST #4
• SHARPFROST #5

A creature of grace and beauty, Sharpfrost's appearance leans more towards a WindClanner's appearance than a RiverClanner. Lithe, sleek furred and standing perfectly balanced on four long legs. Her muscles are lean and wrap around her bones like a blanket, barely visible beneath her thick and dense short-length tabby point fur even when she moves. Her fur glistens cleanly in the light, a product of daily grooming to keep it perfectly waterproof for river treading. She is patterned with a large singular misty gray-silver patch of fur that runs over her back, hips, tail and flanks against an otherwise clean white pelt. Dark cinnamon brown mackerel tabby stripes adorn her head, face and tail like ornamental garments, while they fade and vanish into the fur on her back and sides and flanks, never touching the clean white of her underbelly, hips and chest. Going up from her nose and between her eyes is a white break that stops just before her forehead.

Small dainty paws hide away a set of deadly weapons. Unusually long claws that gleam white with black lines running down the middle, from base to tip. Her face is triangular in shape, with two large triangle ears resting perfectly symmetrical on the crown of her head. Set upon her face are two almond shaped vivid blue eyes that pierce through anything they gaze at, unnerving anyone who gets caught in their path. With a straight and narrow body that holds barely an ounce of fat to be seen: a set of narrow shoulders, a deep chest, and parallel narrow hips that lead to a long, graceful tail follows in her wake, swaying behind her with every little movement made. Sharpfrost's paw-pads never changed from the kitten pink, though her nose brightened to a vivid red with age.

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{{ PERSONALITY //

Detailed ---

If one word can be used to describe Sharpfrost, it most definitely is 'stoic'. Contentment, distaste, even amusement, it's always met the same cold indifference. Her eyes rarely give off any spark of emotion, nor do her voice or movements. This display makes many cats who come around her uneasy, and therefore many choose to stay their distance. This is nothing new for her Clan, however, has she has been this way since day one and therefore most RiverClan cats are comfortable in her presence. Humor and jokes are foreign to this molly, and she always carries an air of seriousness wherever she goes and with whatever she does. A very secretive cat, she keeps much of what goes on in her head under lock and key. She chooses carefully what she wants to say, what move she wants to make, and what impression she wants to give, leaving nothing to impulse. Not even her Clan knows fully what goes on in her mind on a good day. Usually blunt, impatient, and to the point, Sharpfrost never beats around the bush. When something needs to be done, she prefers to get it over and done with efficiency and in as little time as possible before moving onto the next thing, and she isn't amused when someone tries to put something off.

This attitude is extended in the way she interacts with her Clan and especially to the apprentices she trains; if they shows signs of slacking, she will immediately point it out and see to it that they are whipped back into shape. She has an intolerance for long-winded explanations, and only wishes to hear of what the problem is, not how it started. If she feels an explanation is too long, she will interrupt and demand the point, period. There are times when she does drop her guard and reveals what she's truly feeling, however. While there are many emotions this can happen with, it mostly happens only with one; anger. Most of the time, she is content in temperament, going about the day and sharing tongues with her Clan, but in reality she has a very short fuse. An insult to his Clan or Clanmates is the best way to do this; one wrong word at the wrong time will set her off easily, and often times it can get physical. Even at the young age of thirty one moons, Sharpfrost has survived many hardships and personal catastrophes, and it has made her fiercely loyal and protective of her Clan and family. She puts RiverClan before herself, and every decision she makes is carefully crafted to further RiverClan's ambitions and goals - even if it doesn't work in her favor.

Sharpfrost is one of the first to engage an enemy and one of the last to retreat, often racing through the battlefield seeking those of her Clan who are in need of assistance. Those who deal with this female find out quickly that threats to her Clan are considered threats against herself, and she won't rest until the one who issued the threat is put to justice or stopped. Though she is a devote follower of the Warrior Code, she is not afraid to kill if she must, and has bloodied her claws more than once. Sharpfrost has always been one of the first to speak out against things that she perceives as insults made to her Clan's or Clanmates' honor, her claws and fangs both at bear and tail lashing in fury, whether that be the intent or not. This has gotten her in trouble very often, especially at gatherings. With a life and path marred by tragedies left and right, she has been left alone and emotionally wounded, and as with all wounds, they heal and become scars; reminders of a past that would rather be forgotten. Sharpfrost's scars include the deaths of a good deal of her biological family, as well as the betrayal of her mate and resulting deaths of her mentor and the murder of her sister by her own claws. She now feels as though she must be on guard against more pain, both for her and her Clan. With each tragedy she survives, her faith in StarClan is shaken further - its gotten to the point where she believes she's been abandoned by StarClan completely... but that's alright. Who needs them anyway?

An ambitious spirit, she strives to better both herself and her Clan in any way she can. She lives, breathes, and will die for RiverClan when the time comes. Sharpfrost is aiming for the top, and she'll do whatever she has to within the bounds of the Warrior Code to further her goals in the name of RiverClan. She doesn't judge those born in RiverClan by their appearance or bloodline, but rather by their loyalty and actions for the Clan. The more they do for the Clan the better she likes them. Half-Clan cats are given the same attention that full-blooded RiverClan cats are given if they prove themselves loyal, but they will be put through the ringer before she fully trusts them. Cats that are from outside RiverClan and seeking to join... well that's a fish of a different color. They will never be RiverClan cats in Sharpfrost's eyes, and she will make her feelings known every chance she gets. If, and that's a big if, they manage to do something for the Clan she will relent a little. However, it will have to be something utterly spectacular to gain her approval. Those who prove themselves disloyal, Clan-born or otherwise... well, just hope your actions are not spotted.

Though fearless in the face of most danger, there is one thing that terrifies Sharpfrost to her frozen heart: falling in love again. After the heartbreak her former mate gave her, she refuses to allow another tom into her life as easily and has her walls constantly on guard. This fear also extends to her family, who have been dropping like flies around her. To stave off the hurt, she's slowly been alienating herself from her surviving family members and locking them out, putting more of herself into her duties and Clan life. The less she loves, the less it hurts is her reasoning, and StarClan above knows she's done hurting. Those that do hurt her she will not forget nor forgive, and Sharpfrost has been known to hold grudges for many moons after the event in question. Two such known cases are Blackstripe, the ThunderClan warrior who killed her mother, and Goosefleck, the mate who crushed her heart.

Simplified ----
Positive: Thoughtful, Caring, Ambitious, Protective, Strict
Negative: Fanatically Loyal, Stoic, Temperamental, Bigot, Philophobic
Middle Ground: Feels Abandoned by StarClan, Overly Cautious, Unforgiving

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{{ FAMILY MEMBERS //

x Rockpelt: biological father. riverclan warrior. deceased.
x Birdsong: biological mother. riverclan queen. deceased.
x Dapplefall: step-mother. riverclan warrior. deceased
x Hazelstream: littermate sister. riverclan warrior. deceased.
x Bitternwing: littermate brother. riverclan elder.
x Cuckookit: younger half-brother. riverclan kit.
x Burdock-kit: younger half-sister. riverclan kit.
x Bramblingkit: younger half-brother. riverclan kit.
x Pipitkit: younger half-sister. riverclan kit.

--- siblings by rockpelt x birdsong
x x x [ hazelstream - bitternwing ]

--- siblings by rockpelt x dapplefall
x x x [ cuckookit - burdock-kit - bramblingkit - pipitkit ]

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{{ HISTORY //

x The story of Sharpfrost begins with the courtship of two RiverClan cats, though don't mistake that it was a courtship of love. Birdsong was a young molly of pure RiverClan descent, and she prided herself on that fact. With her thick tabby fur and light blue eyes she was considered very beautiful among the toms, both old and young, and as soon as she entered the Warrior's Den they were all tripping over themselves to gain her attention. And she was quick to reciprocate. But while most toms sought after her with the intent of becoming her mate, Birdsong had no interest in falling in love. Her heart belonged to RiverClan and only RiverClan. So therefore her only interest in the toms was whether or not they could help her give her beloved Clan good warrior stock. One by one they made their attempts to impress her, and one by one they were rejected as callously as the last before them. Either they were too scrawny, too chatty, or had questionable linage that made her sneer nastily. No tom seemed good enough to procreate with and further RiverClan's bloodline... and then Rockclaw came into the picture. The great grey tom was strong and fierce, with sleek fur and piercing blue eyes, a pure-blooded tom of RiverClan. Birdsong had to have him.

The courtship that Birdsong initiated had been aggressive in nature. She was out with a purpose and she wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted. Rockclaw for the most part found her advances somewhat off-putting; the only tom in the Clan not tripping over himself for this she-cat and she wouldn't leave him alone. Just his luck. Rockclaw put up with her crazy advancements for five moons longer than most honestly thought he would until he finally tired of her presence at his side. Leading her away from the camp two moons before leaf-bare, he finally gave her what she wanted and bred with her in the hopes that she would leave him be. It worked like a charm, for as soon as Birdsong discovered she was pregnant with kits she retired to the Nursery and didn't bother Rockclaw again. For the entirety of her pregnancy, Birdsong refused to leave the Nursery for even a moment. Mating with Rockclaw had been a once in her lifetime opportunity. If she lost this litter for any reason she'd never get another chance to breed fresh pure blood into the Clan like this. So she remained in her nest, content to groom herself and keep a close watch on her slowly swelling stomach.

It was just as leaf-fall was beginning to turn to leaf-bare that Birdsong finally delivered her litter. Three tiny kits nestled against her pink stomach, two little mollies and a single tom. All bearing pure RiverClan blood, her contribution to the Clan. The tom was a pale brown tabby like her, while the females were much paler in color, one a hazel brown with fading tabby markings and the other a misty gray and white. In order, she named them Bitternkit, Hazelkit and Palekit. Rockclaw did visit his children once after the birth, but otherwise didn't spent much time with any of the family. At the get-go Birdsong proved herself a capable if not overbearing mother, constantly cleaning her children so their pelts were fluffy and soft. As they grew, Birdsong attempted to instill in them her love of RiverClan and the need to keep the bloodlines pure, while at the same time she passed down her disdain for half-bloods and those who hold no RiverClan blood. Hazelkit took the message literally, a trait that gained her their mother's favor, while Bitternkit preferred to play rather than listen to his mother's lectures. For Palekit, it was a mix between the extremes. Birdsong's lectures stuck with her, though she also enjoyed slacking off to play with Bitternkit when Hazelkit monopolized their mother's attention.

Without Hazelkit to get between them and their mother more interested in her lectures, Bitternkit and Palekit formed a close sibling bond in the Nursery. A normally silent and simple kit Palekit didn't gain many friends outside of Bitternkit, though there were some exceptions. Goosekit and Duck-kit for example, a set of siblings that take to the playful duo fast. Duck-kit and Palekit become the best of friends just even faster; the playful and outgoing tabby making a perfect foil to Palekit's otherwise introverted attitude. Life was good for the first five moons of Palekit's life - full of games and lectures and security. But it was at the age of five moons that Palekit learned a harsh and valuable lesson. With her children only a moon away from apprenticeship, Birdsong woke them up early one morning and took them out of camp to show them Sunningrocks, the landmark of the borderline between RiverClan and the rival Clan, ThunderClan. At that time, the rocks were under RiverClan control, and while she lectured her kits on the integrity and stability of the border Birdsong made the mistake of staying too long to sunbathe. That was when a ThunderClan patrol passed by and claimed the border as theirs. Not willing to risk her children, Birdsong gathered the three to her and made to leave but was provoked into a scuffle with the ThunderClan cat Blackstripe. The tom was a young and impulsive new warrior looking for a way to prove himself, and he had just found a way.

The elder warriors had attempted to rein in the unruly youngster, but it was too late. He'd insulted RiverClan in front of the wrong cat, and Birdsong wouldn't leave until she'd shown him how wrong he had been. Hazelkit cheered their mother on, while Bitternkit and Palekit curled together in silent horror. The scuffle between the two rival warriors eventually led to Blackstripe kicking Birdsong into Sunningrocks themselves. That was when tragedy struck. The impact knocked loose a large boulder from the formation, and before Birdsong could move away in time she was crushed beneath the stone. The experienced ThunderClan warriors rushed in and attempted to rescue the queen, but by the time they removed the rock it was too late. Birdsong's body had been completely crushed - she'd died within seconds. Palekit and her siblings rushed to their fallen mother nonetheless. The enemy warriors said it was too late, but what did they know? They had to try! But no amount of pleading from Hazelkit or wailing from Bitternkit could bring life back into Birdsong. The three kits were led numbly back to camp by a ThunderClan warrior to tell the current RiverClan leader, a cat named Mousestar, of what happened while the horrified Blackstripe was led back to his own camp by the rest of the patrol.

In the following days, Palekit refused to speak a word since she witnessed her mother's sudden death, or shown any emotion whatsoever. While Hazelkit and Bitternkit had wailed and cried over their mother's body, she'd stood off in the background, rooted to her place while the world slowed to a snail's pace. Being returned to the Nursery to the worried faces of Duck-kit and Goosekit hadn't done very much to bring Palekit out of her shock either. As soon as she returned to camp, she slunk away into the Nursery and numbly settled down in the very back of the den with her back to everything and everyone else. Nothing no one said to her or offered her seem to reach passed her deafened ears, and the only sign she was alive was the steady rise and fall of her chest. It was only after the third day of this behavior that Goosekit appeared at her side, curling up next to her and offering her the only form of comfort he felt he could give her in her state. He spoke to her softly, over and over again the same gentle nothings that only reached her ears. Whatever he said that night, it had worked, for the next day as Goosekit padded from the Nursery he was followed by a still solemn but mobile Palekit. She was walking again, but the placid kit of the five moons past was no more. In her grief and silence, there had only been time to search her thoughts. And for the first time Palekit understood her mother's lectures in a new light. All cats outside of RiverClan were not to be trusted; they would steal and kill everything that Palekit loved and cared for if they were allowed to.

Yes, Palekit hadn't been exceptionally close to Birdsong, but she'd loved her mother all the same... and she lost her because of an enemy warrior. It was an event Palekit refused to go through again.

x Palekit's final moon in the Nursery went by relatively uneventful. Without Birdsong, she and her siblings were cared for by the remaining queens in the Nursery. Hazelkit, in keeping to her mother's lessons, refused to associate with the queens who couldn't prove themselves pure RiverClan, preferring to stay near to a singular elderly queen named Bluethroat. Sticking close with Duck-kit and Goosekit, Palekit preferred their mother, a young calico queen named Dapplefall, and Bitternkit followed her lead. The moon passed by almost too slow and yet so fast, and before Palekit could blink she had reached six moons of age. That was when things began change. Two days before the new apprentices were to be named, the aging Mousestar had finally succumbed to the sicknesses that ravaged her body. The Clan had gathered around the body of their fallen leader after she'd been dragged out, the elder's coming with scented herbs to rub over her body and hide the stench of her death. Palekit watched with emotionless eyes. Mousestar had been her leader, but she'd not known her, though she joined in the grief all the same. Mousestar had lead the Clan proudly, and though she'd not known her well her Clan had lost a valued member and beloved leader. She deserved her grief just as any one else. Bitternkit, Duck-kit and Goosekit grieved alongside her, but Hazelkit refused and stayed in the Nursery. For the first time, Palekit felt a spark of resentment towards her own kin. How dare she?

In the two days between Mousestar's death, the Clan deputy Magpiethorn rose to become Magpiestar, with the warrior Snailstep rising in his place as deputy. Dapplefall worked tirelessly through the morning of the ceremony grooming their fur, sleeking up both her own kits and the kits she'd taken under her wing. Bitternkit and Goosekit complained loudly, while Duck-kit tried to make it into a game. Only Palekit sat stoically and let Dapplefall do as she pleased. The calico queen led the four youths from the Nursery soon after, with Bluethroat and Hazelkit following close behind. Before Magpiestar, the new leader, Palekit was christened as Palepaw, whilst her peers were named Goosepaw, Duckpaw, Bitternpaw, and Hazelpaw. This was where their roads would finally separate; each was given a mentor, and sent on their way. The cat chosen for Palepaw was Frostwind, an experienced warrior in the prime of his life. Their greeting had been brief and practical, a bare touching of the noses, before he flicked his tail and gathered Palepaw to his side to begin their training. Before she left the camp for the second time in her life, the new apprentice paused at the entrance, turning to stare up at the rock upon which Magpiestar descended from slowly. From the stories she'd been told, Magpiestar had all the makings of a great leader, pure blood RiverClan and having served the Clan for many many moons in many ways. But she couldn't help but wonder: how long would the clearly aged cat stay in his position, before he met the same fate as Mousestar? It was an... unnerving thought.

Frostwind, as Palepaw figured out quickly enough, was not the pure blood RiverClanner that Birdsong would've approved of for her daughter. His leaner build and powerful hind legs spoke of a heritage mixed with SkyClan somewhere down the line. But where he lacked in pure blood, he made up for in other ways Palepaw hadn't been taught of before. Birdsong had put such an emphasize on pure blooded Clan cats, and Dapplefall hadn't had much time to teach her or Bitternpaw much of anything, that the subjects of 'loyalty' and 'the Warrior Code' were nearly as foreign to Palepaw as the borderlines. Sure, she'd been taught the Warrior Code, and about StarClan and all that, but the way her mother had put it one had to be the purest bloodline in order to feel anything of that sort. Frostwind, even with his mixed heritage, was as loyal a tom as anyone she'd ever met. And a stickler for the Warrior Code too. It was through him that Palepaw learned the ins and outs of the Warrior Code, reciting it every morning and night to her mentor word for word until she knew it by heart. To Frostwind every word was to be taken literally. 'The safety of the Clan is more important than the safety of one cat.' was the rule that stuck with Palepaw the most, and the one Frostwind made sure to capitalize on. Beyond the teachings of the Warrior Code, Frostwind was prompt in showing Palepaw the river - the lifeblood of the Clan. 'Never forget the river, Palepaw. It is your greatest friend, but without respect, it can also be your greatest enemy.'

Hunting training was a struggle for Palepaw, though patient and quiet, she is unable to catch many fish or chase down anything faster than a turtle. The pained look on Frostwind's face becomes a near permanent fixture whenever he has to supervise her hunting attempts, though it wasn't for a lack of trying to teach her. Battle training though flies by almost too smoothly for Frostwind - Palepaw turns out to be a natural fighter, twisting and turning out of Frostwind's grasp with trigger sharp reflexes. In one such training session, Palepaw accidentally unsheathes her claws in her excitement and scratches Frostwind across his shoulder. The wound is deep, deeper than Frostwind expected it to be. This is how they discover just how long Palepaw's claws are becoming. Deciding that while she might be hopeless in hunting, Frostwind instead puts more effort into her battle training. By the age of nine moons, Palepaw has become an accomplished battler, though still a mediocre huntress. Hazelpaw is the exact opposite: within the same amount of time she has grown into a fierce huntress, gliding through the river like she was born in it. But while Palepaw learns of the Warrior Code and the value of loyalty, Hazelpaw continues to dip further into her line of thought planted by Birdsong. Eventually even Hazelpaw's mentor, an equally loyal and RiverClan born cat as Frostwind, is only shown respect to his face, while curses are spat behind his back. All because he cannot prove to his own apprentice he is as pure as she is. These moons redefine Palepaw's version of 'pure' and what it means to her. Hazelpaw becomes a vivid picture of what is wrong with the line of thought Birdsong gave to them.

Ten moons of age, and a rivalry is sparked between Palepaw and Hazelpaw during a Clan meeting. As the cats begin to disperse, Palepaw catches her sister staring up at the rock as Magpiestar begins his descent, just as Palepaw did four moons before. But what she saw in Hazelpaw's eyes unsettled her even more than the thought of Magpiestar death. Eagerness, desire, greed... ambition pure and strong. Palepaw didn't need to think long about what Hazelpaw must be thinking. And the thought terrified her to no end. Hazelpaw was everything their mother had wanted in a child, but she was the exact opposite that RiverClan ever needed in a leader. A cat who would persecute those who couldn't prove themselves as pure as she was. Or as pure as she thought she was. Blood mattered, but only to an extent. Loyalty was stronger than any blood, the Warrior Code was the only path for a warrior, and in that moment Hazelpaw had made herself an enemy to Palepaw forever. The sister's eyes met shortly after, and Palepaw bared her teeth while Hazelpaw lashed her tail. Hazelpaw would never sit on that rock, not as long as Palepaw drew breath. With renewed vigor Palepaw threw herself back into her training, surprising Frostwind with her ferocity and anger. But nevertheless he encourages her efforts.

It is on such a day that another tragedy finds its way to Palepaw's life. With green-leaf well on its way to the forest, the rains had come and the river was threatening to swell, causing all the apprentices to be confined to camp. As both mentor and apprentice return from a scouting patrol around the river, Palepaw is met with Goosepaw's worried face, asking her if she'd seen Duckpaw anywhere. The news that Duckpaw hadn't been seen since that morning startles Palepaw and her mentor. With no one having seen the young apprentice, Snailstep gathers a search party to locate the wayward apprentice. Palepaw begged to be able to go as well. They'd not had much time together, but Duckpaw had still been her best friend in kit-hood next to Bitternpaw. She couldn't rest not knowing where her Clanmate and friend was. Frostwind forbid her from joining - the river was still a danger, and he'd not have two apprentices placed in danger. Frustrated, Palepaw relented and returned with Goosepaw and an equally worried Bitternpaw to the Apprentice's Den to let the warriors handle it. At least, until the resting Hazelpaw spoke up with cruel and biting words against the missing apprentice. Palepaw only put up with it for so long, before she finally snapped and raked her claws across Hazelpaw's face when her sister comments callously that Duckpaw was better off dead to the Clan anyway. Palepaw then raced from the Apprentice's Den and out from the camp entrance, heading in the opposite direction of the search party to seek out her best friend.

She searched for hours, yowling for Duckpaw to answer her, until nightfall finally fell over the area. The stars had disappeared, and thunder rumbled in the distance to signal another summer storm. Palepaw refused to give up, even when the rain began and pelted her body she still yowled into the night... until she reached the river's edge and heard a weak call back. That was how she'd found Duckpaw under the base of a river birch, her front right leg twisted in an odd angle at the halfway point, her body shivering from the chill... and the river slowly rising. There was no time to race back and get help, and in this pitch blackness Palepaw wasn't even sure she'd make it back to camp at all, so instead she opted to grab her friend by the scruff and drag her backwards and away from the deadly waters towards higher ground. When the river could no longer follow them, she laid herself upon Duckpaw's body and held fast, protecting her Clanmate from the rain as best as she could, and waited out the night together with her. That was how they were found by the patrol the next morning: Palepaw, weak and sickly, and Duckpaw barely breathing and critically injured.

x Both apprentices were carried back to camp and sent straight to the den of Yellowstrike, the medicine cat of RiverClan. There was nothing that could be done for Duckpaw's leg, no matter the skill of the medicine cat, but their lives were saved from chill that had soaked into their skin. When Palepaw regained conscious, she was met by the sight of Frostwind barreling into the Medicine Cat's Den to curse her and scold her severely for disobeying him. He paced back and forth in the Medicine Cat's Den, yelling obscenities at his apprentice, talking of severe punishments once she was able to leave the den, but it all that registered in Palepaw's fevered mind was that he was worried. She'd scared him. She'd probably scared the Clan with her stupid stunt, though she saved Duckpaw's life. 'The safety of the Clan is more important than the safety of one cat.' she had repeated to him weakly. Duckpaw was a part of the Clan, and was too injured to have saved herself, so therefore her safety had been more important than Palepaw's. Frostwind is stunned to silence long enough for Palepaw to find sleep again. It is a full moon before Palepaw is able to rejoin her mentor in training; both cats silently greet each other, and go about their ways, the chaos of the moon before fading away into obscurity. The event is bittersweet, for while Palepaw returns to training, Duckpaw cannot and is confined to the Medicine Cat's Den till her twisted leg finishes healing.

While Duckpaw stays in the Medicine Cat's Den, Palepaw makes time to visit her and bring her fresh kill, encouraging her in the only way she knows how to keep fighting. Dapplefall is a near permanent fixture in the den beside her daughter, and while Goosepaw appears, it is not as often as Palepaw, much to Duckpaw's sorrow. Through Palepaw's encouragement, Duckpaw slowly begins regaining strength and learns to walk on three legs, though her future as a warrior is still uncertain. Palepaw's own rise to being a warrior however, is just as a bad. With a moon of precious training having been lost, she is not given her Warrior Ceremony as she should've been, and had to watch beside Duckpaw as Bitternpaw, Hazelpaw, and Goosepaw passed their warrior assessments and gained their warrior names without her. Bitternpaw is christened Bitternwing, in relation to the surprising agility he'd shown in his assessment. Hazelpaw is christened Hazelstream, for her mastery of hunting in the river. And Goosepaw is christened Goosefleck, for his speckled pelt. After having taken her oath and received her warrior's name, during the chanting of the warriors Hazelstream turns back to where Palepaw sits and flashes her the most malicious and victorious look she can muster. Palepaw snarls loud enough to startle Duckpaw, her fur standing on edge. Hazelstream might've won this battle, but Palepaw would be damned if she let her win the war.

When Palepaw finally does receive her warrior name, it is not as happy of a situation. At the age of thirteen moons she takes part in a border scuffle between RiverClan and WindClan near the Gorge, a dangerous place for a battle of any shape. In the scuffle, Frostwind is knocked off balance by a WindClan cat, and he slips off the edge of the Gorge before Palepaw can reach him. He tumbles into the white rapids below to his death, and all his apprentice can do is watch helplessly. The battle called off, and the defeated RiverClanners return to camp minus one. Without a body to bury, there is little to do but mourn the loss itself; Palepaw once again retreats into herself, standing in the background stoically as the rest of the Clan grieves openly. Goosefleck comes to her side once again, pressing against her securely and whispering those same nothings until she finally raises her head and blinks slowly. Just in time as well, for Magpiestar calls a Clan Meeting just before the sun sets. The surviving warriors had spoken of Palepaw's prowess in the fight, and believe it is time for her to gain her own warrior name. This time there is no one to lead her to the front of the rock - rather she steps forward herself, raising her head to meet Magpiestar's gaze unflinchingly. And boldly, she requests to the leader to choose her own warrior name. 'Palefrost,' she mews. 'In honor of Frostwind.' She receives her request, but not in the way she had imagined. News of her long claws had reached the leader's ears, and with the darkening of her markings with age, she no longer is pale. Rather, she is sharp as ice, defined and clear and straightforward, and her new name - Sharpfrost - will tell all who hear it what she is. That night, she sat her Warrior's Vigil alone, with only the stars to watch over her. She wondered once which star was Frostwind's.

At last she joined her brother and sister in the Warrior's Den. Bitternwing is quick to welcome her, while Hazelstream stares at her in utter contempt as she makes her way to the nest between Goosefleck and Bitternwing. Duckpaw is still a constant on her mind, and she makes a major point to continue to see her friend when her new duties are settled for the day. Duckpaw has made good progress in her physical therapy, though her future as a warrior is still misty even now Sharpfrost refuses to let her abandon hope. When Duckpaw is allowed to leave the Medicine Cat's Den a week after Sharpfrost's Warrior Ceremony, the white and gray tabby takes Duckpaw off to the side of the camp and starts training her. Duckpaw's old mentor, having lost hope that the she-cat would ever join him in the Warrior's Den, had asked to be reassigned shortly after Duckpaw's prognosis had been given. Duckpaw and Sharpfrost train for hours in the day, finding a style of battle and defense that will allow her to take part in battles. Sharpfrost is strict in her style of training, but encouraging, focusing mostly on reflexes and stamina with Duckpaw so she doesn't tire herself out too fast. By the time the she-cats are done two moons later Duckpaw is able to pin Sharpfrost down without any trouble from her disfigurement. The improvement is so great that it gains the attention of the higher ups, and Duckpaw's future as a warrior becomes much clearer. In an emotional scene, Duckpaw admits to Sharpfrost the morning of the ceremony that she was jealous and resentful of Sharpfrost for so long for saving her life. She had believed for so long that she would only be a waste of space in the camp, confined to the life of an elder forever... but then Sharpfrost had helped her, and suddenly the resentment had melted away.

It is the first time Duckpaw refers to Sharpfrost as her sister, and the first time Sharpfrost feels she actually has one since her kit-hood days.

x In a proud moment for all involved, Duckpaw is christened as Duckstep, for her unique limping gait, and allowed to join the Warrior's Den. To commemorate Sharpfrost's ability as a teacher, she is also given an apprentice of her own. Heatherpaw. Young, stubborn, naive and just having left the Nursery. For the fifteen moon old Sharpfrost, she understands her work is cut out for her. Unlike with Duckstep, Heatherpaw is untested and untrained; Sharpfrost had to work from the ground up with this apprentice. But, with Heatherpaw now under her tutelage, Sharpfrost did find comfort. Hazelstream's ambitions had been thwarted for the time being: the Warrior Code itself stated that a warrior couldn't become a deputy without having trained at least one apprentice, and she knew Hazelstream had had her eye on Heatherpaw for a while. The look of fury on her blood-kin's face was an image Sharpfrost fell asleep to happily that night. Come the morning, the work began. Right away Heatherpaw and Sharpfrost's personalities clashed badly. More than once, Sharpfrost had lost her temper with Heatherpaw's sassing attitude. Though she found out quickly that the young she-cat responded very well to the right kind of punishment. If she back talked, she had extra chores to do when they returned to camp. A lack of effort in the training session that day saw Heatherpaw with tick duty for the elders. And so forth. The worse the offense, the more creative Sharpfrost got with the punishments until Heatherpaw finally broke. That was when Sharpfrost relented, and their relationship grew steadily more positive.

Remembering all she'd been taught about the Warrior Code from Frostwind came easily to Sharpfrost, and she slowly passed down her knowledge to Heatherpaw over the next moons during their time together. During this time, Sharpfrost found herself with another predicament: Goosefleck. Her former kit-hood friend was now an omnipresent force in her life. Offering to share tongues with her, bringing her fresh kill to share, complimenting her at every turn. It all flustered the normally stoic faced female. She didn't get it, honestly she didn't. Not until Duckstep had finally tired of watching the train wreck and flat out told Sharpfrost that her brother fancied her for a mate. If Sharpfrost had been flustered before, this new knowledge had her ears nearly bright red with embarrassment. No, that couldn't have been true. Goosefleck hadn't ever shown any interest in her before... had he? Though, with the truth echoing in her ears, she was reminded of when Goosefleck had been the one to bring her out of her catatonic states when no one else could, how he laid or sat with her until she managed to pull herself out of the grief and rejoin Clan life. This was what made the choice for her to start reciprocating Goosefleck's affections, accepting his offers to spend time together much to his joy. They were public mates before the turn of Sharpfrost's seventeenth moon. Life couldn't have been better in those days - her apprentice's training was going well, Duckstep was a warrior, and she had Goosefleck for a loving and attentive mate. She should've known it would all come crashing down just as fast.

She'd forgotten one thing in her bliss: Hazelstream. With her secret ambitions thwarted, and no apprentice in sight for moons, Hazelstream decided to take matters into her own paws. She had a vision for RiverClan, and the only way she could make that vision a reality was from the rock that Magpiestar sat on. A pure blood RiverClan. Free of outside bloodlines. Oh, Birdsong would be so proud. But to become a leader, one must first be deputy, and to be deputy one had to make themselves noticeable. And have trained an apprentice. Her last chance had a quick rise through the ranks had ended when the last apprentice in the Nursery had been apprenticed to Bitternwing of all cats. Badgerpaw was innocent and sweet, pure blooded too, a perfect mold for Hazelstream's ideals. Even more so than Heatherpaw had been. She just had to find a way. An opportunity. And one came in the form of the young apprentice's namesake. The great lumbering creature had made its home just outside Sunningrocks, making a den out of the place that Birdsong was killed. It was almost ironic - that the place where Birdsong was killed would be the place that her dream would slowly be realized. For a new order, sacrifices had to be made. Even if one of those sacrifices was her own brother. She kept the badger sighting a secret, and the next day offered to join Bitternwing and Badgerpaw out on a solo patrol with her to show the apprentice some hunting skills. Bitternwing, trusting his sister, agreed to let her join them happily - she was the best hunter of the family after all. Badgerpaw would benefit from her skills. And Badgerpaw did... until they came to Sunningrocks.

Sharpfrost hadn't been aware of what had happened until Badgerpaw came running into the camp in a frenzy, wailing that a badger had attacked them near Sunningrocks. Hazelstream had sent Badgerpaw back to camp to get help, leaving her and Bitternwing alone with the danger. Several warriors were mobilized quickly, and sent out to deal with the threat. Sharpfrost was among them. When they reached Sunningrocks, the carnage was in full swing. Her brother hanging limply in the badger's jaws by his leg was the first sight she saw, and with a great yowl she launched herself at the creature, landing on its face with claws unsheathed. The other warriors followed, snapping and clawing at the lumbering brute until it dropped Bitternwing and made to flee. Sharpfrost was at her brother's size in an instant; thank StarClan he was still alive... but just barely. And his left hind leg was gone, ripped off from the ankle down. Even if he survived, his career as a warrior was over. Hazelstream appeared soon after, wailing that she'd been unable to help her dear brother. When the badger had attacked, she'd fled up a tree in fright, and she'd never be able to forgive herself. Sharpfrost, in her horror at her brother's condition, didn't pay her any mind.

Bitternwing was rushed back to camp, and despite his grievous wounds he did manage to pull through, but he was permanently disfigured from his ordeal. His right ear was missing, and half of his left hind limb was gone along with his tail, but he was alive. He'd never be able to enter the battlefield again or finish training his apprentice, but he'd live. Bitternwing was to retire to the Elder's Den when he was able to leave the Medicine Cat's Den, while Badgerpaw was given to Hazelstream to mentor. Now, with the chaos over, Sharpfrost was able to go over the events with a clearer mind. Something about all this didn't sit right with her - first off, why would Hazelstream even want to go with Bitternwing in the first place? She hated Sharpfrost and she hated Bitternwing because she believed they'd turned away from Birdsong's 'vision', betraying their mother by cozening up with impure RiverClanners. And the way Hazelstream had looked at Badgerpaw when they'd become mentor and apprentice, like she'd just caught the biggest fish in the river, most certainly had sent alarm bells ringing in Sharpfrost's mind. Something wasn't right, and she was going to get to the bottom of it. The first night she'd been given the chance, she traveled back to Sunningrocks and searched the area with a more critical eye. It had been a few days, but the scents hadn't faded. That was how she found the den of the badger, looking far too well used for something that had just come out of the woods. Sharpfrost's temper began to get the better of her as she pieced the puzzle before her together. The badger had been homing here for a while... and she would bet that Hazelstream knew about it.

That morning, Sharpfrost returned from her search and began to hunt for Hazelstream. She tracked her sister's scent to the edge of the river, where she was preparing a lesson for Badgerpaw. Sharpfrost confronted her head on, accusing her that she'd known about the badger in the first place, and that she'd led Bitternwing into a trap. Hazelstream merely stated that Sharpfrost had a vivid imagination, and that it wasn't her fault that Bitternwing hadn't been able to climb the tree to safety in time. As she went to excuse herself to go gather Badgerpaw for his first lesson, Sharpfrost snapped. Her claws were out, and before she could blink they'd sliced a clean line through Hazelstream's neck. Her sister only had time to stare at her in muted surprise before she crumbled to the ground and died. This time, Sharpfrost was unmoved. Hazelstream had broken the Warrior Code by placing her Clanmate in harm's way for her own gain, and had she been allowed to live it would've only gotten worse. That day, something in Sharpfrost had died with her sister.

After the deed was done and justified, Sharpfrost had washed her claws in the river, and then drug her sister's body into the water for the rapids to take. Clouds were already forming above her head, the first signals of a late season rainstorm that would wash away any and all evidence of the act. She walked calmly back to camp and settled into the Warrior's Den just before the rain hit, resting beside Goosefleck as though nothing had happened. Hazelstream's absence was felt that afternoon after the rain had finally stopped, with Badgerpaw asking others if they'd seen her at any point that day. Night had fallen when the body had finally been discovered by the evening patrol, the murdered she-cat being carried back to camp to the shock of the Clan. With the scents all but destroyed by the river and rain, no one could tell who or what exactly had torn the she-cat's neck out. Her murder remains a mystery to this day. Sharpfrost's lack of emotion towards the death was considered usual for her, and as always Goosefleck was there to try and bring her out of her 'shock' with sweet whispers and his physical presence. She 'came out of it' much faster than before this time, though Goosefleck was still none the wiser. She participated in her sister's burial, mourned with Badgerpaw and the rest of the Clan, though inwardly she was finally glad to be rid of the evil and overly ambitious cat. RiverClan didn't need cats like that in their ranks.

Without Hazelstream's presence breathing down her back, life was much easier for Sharpfrost. Badgerpaw was apprenticed to Goosefleck, a much better choice than Hazelstream had ever been, and she was able to focus more on Heatherpaw again. As she reached her twenty-first moon, she found herself given the honor of watching as Heatherpaw accepted the Warrior's Oath and gained her name of Heatherbreeze, for her swift paws. And beyond that, there was more good news to be had: Dapplefall, the she-cat who had taken her and Bitternwing in when Birdsong had been killed, had taken a mate. Sharpfrost's own biological father, Rockclaw. The tom was now visibly aging, having been older than most warriors when he'd mated with Birdsong so long ago, but he finally decided to take a true mate and Dapplefall had stolen his heart. Sharpfrost was one of the first few to congratulate the new couple, touching noses with her foster mother and father happily. Two moons later, Goosefleck's apprentice had become a warrior - Badgerfang. Turns out Hazelstream had managed to do something right, because it was her tips from that set-up of a day that earned Badgerfang his name.

x Peace reigned for Sharpfrost, but not for the Clan. Three moons after Badgerfang had received his warrior name, upon Sharpfrost's twenty-sixth moon of age, Snailstep had stepped down as deputy and the position had fallen to Yewtail, Magpiestar's own niece. The change was felt throughout the entire Clan. Magpiestar's age was beginning to show: with the worsening condition of his beloved mate, Willowbreeze, after she'd given birth such a short time before, and the fact that he was being torn away from her side so often, it was starting to become more and more apparent that Magpiestar's days were numbered, no matter how badly anyone wished to ignore it. The whispers and concerns were what drove Sharpfrost away from the camp in those few moons, not wishing to hear it. Instead, she decided to focus on hunting, hoping to at least gain some extra skill to show for her efforts... but it was still as vain an attempt as the days she'd spent training with Frostwind. It was during one of these excursions near the ThunderClan border that Sharpfrost came face to face with an old enemy - Blackstripe, the ThunderClanner responsible for her mother's death all those moons. He'd been taking a drink from the river when she'd approached, glancing up at her in surprise. He'd aged, just as she had, and apparently age and experience had mellowed him out from the hot-headed young warrior she remembered. With silent disgust, she realized that he didn't recognize her... though she could never forget, or forgive him.

She was hostile and aggressive through the entire exchange, not once telling him who she was, and not once did he have an inkling of remembrance towards her. It was probably a good thing; had he attempted to apologize or something, she might've very well have leaped across the river to give him the same treatment that she'd given Hazelstream. They left on somewhat civil terms, him never realizing who she was and her letting him live. He'd killed Birdsong, but it had probably been for the best. After all, Birdsong had created Hazelstream, and there was no place in RiverClan for those two monsters anymore, who valued bloodlines over loyalty and the Warrior Code. The next event in Sharpfrost's life did not end as civily. Willowbreeze died three moons later, after Sharpfrost's twenty-ninth moon, and with her she'd taken one of her mate's lives. Only the medicine cat's quick actions had halted anymore of Magpiestar's lives being lost. But Willowbreeze wasn't the only one the Clan lost: while out hunting, Rockclaw had stepped on a adder and been bitten; he'd died where he'd laid, found by a patrol hours later when he'd not returned. Dapplefall had been distruaght, crying over her mate with grieving sobs. Sharpfrost grieved too, but not for herself. Dapplefall had just announced the previous moon that she was expecting Rockclaw's kits. It was for them that Sharpfrost grieved, for they'd had the chance to know something she hadn't had... Rockclaw would've been a great father.

Dapplefall's time in the Nursery was a much more solemn experience than her last one had been. She had fallen head over paws in love with Rockclaw, and the sudden loss of him so soon in their relationship nearly destroyed her. She refused to eat, refused to drink or sleep. She was only brought out of her depression by the combined presense of Goosefleck, Duckstep, Sharpfrost, and Bitternwing - who'd had to be helped into the Nursery - had managed to bring her out of her funk enough to eat again, though she never again spoke another word. Sharpfrost's thirth moon saw much heartbreak and change. When Dapplefall finally gave birth to the kittens, there had been complications - she'd delivered four healthy kittens, but the bloodloss and broken heart had caught up with her. The medicine cat had tried their best, but it was no use - nothing they did could've saved the dying queen. The loss of Dapplefall had been a breaking point for Sharpfrost, who refused stoutly to visit her new half-siblings at any point. She began to draw away from Duckstep, Bitternwing, and even Goosefleck,  her dear mate, distancing herself. Though it was easier than it should've been. The truth was Goosefleck hadn't been as devoted to her as he used to be - sneaking off at night while she slept. One night the week before she'd followed him, and found him spending time under the stars with another RiverClan cat. One he was showing a lot of affection to, more than he'd shown to her in their lifetime together. It was embarrassing to find that her mate was having an affair, and when she saw who the cat was he was doting over, she felt her heart break even more - it wasn't just another she-cat... in fact it wasn't even a she-cat at all. It was Badgerfang, his former apprentice. A tom... the sight was devastating to Sharpfrost.

Her relationship with Goosefleck dissolved soon after. She didn't confront him or yell at him, merely walked up, told him what she'd seen that night, and that it was over between them before walking away. She wasn't angry at him for falling in love with another cat, but she was angry with him for sneaking around behind her back and not straight out telling her. It was for that reason that she would never forgive him. Goosefleck didn't attempt to chase her, and Bitternwing was unable to. Only Duckstep managed to stay close through it all, even with Sharpfrost actively pushing her away. She refused to leave the cat who singlehandly saved her life alone in this time of need, and despite everything Sharpfrost found herself enjoying the company. Sharpfrost's thirty-first moon saw yet another change: a much more major one than those before. Yewtail decided to step down from her position after only a few moons, and Magpiestar called forth a Clan Meeting. Sharpfrost took a seat in the background, as far away from the main attention as possible, while Duckstep settled herself right beside her. She hadn't even been paying attention until she heard six lifechanging words strike against her eardrums. 'Sharpfrost will be the new deputy.' It took a moment, but when the words finally registered her entire body locked up, eyes staring straight at Magpiestar in mute horror. The rest of the meeting was spent with a ringing in her ears, her claws dug into the ground and Duckstep's cheering figure at her side. All the while her eyes remained locked upon that rock. That same rock she'd looked at the day she'd become an apprentice... she remembered wondering who would be left sitting on it when the aging Magpiestar finally retired or died. She had never considered that it was possible she could be the one sitting there one day...

x In the days afterwards, Sharpfrost has managed to fall into the position as gracefully as she can. She still refuses to visit her half-siblings, or even talk with Bitternwing or Goosefleck, and only Duckstep continues to hobble after her. Still too stubborn to just leave her alone. For the time, she tries to live up to the expectations she feels RiverClan needs, falling further into her frosty attitude and loner lifestyle. RiverClan needs a deputy, not an emotional mess of a cat... and Sharpfrost intents to give them the deputy they deserve.