Warrior: Laurelfang Dec 14, 2015 15:59:02 GMT
Post by Deleted on Dec 14, 2015 15:59:02 GMT
LAURELFANG OF WINDCLAN
warrior • 39 moons • male • pansexual
Laurelfang was given the prefix Laurel for their white fur. They have the suffix fang for their battle skills
vain - sincere - friendly - protective - possessive - rules are your friends - firm - doesn't dwell in the past - observant - easily attached - he comes last
It's very easy to see Laurelfang, to hear him, and make some very ugly assumptions. Assumptions that in all honestly, he would not blame you for. After all, a good many cats would look at one who goes to bed with others, and think 'how disgusting', 'how immoral', and turn up their noses. They, are entitled to their opinions just as much as Laurelfang is entitled to ignoring them and going about his day without so much as getting a single bit of fur out of place. There are other assumptions made of him, that he's vain being one of the most popular. They aren't wrong. Laurelfang is quite vain about his physical appearance. He'll spent a perhaps excessive amount of time making sure that white fur lays just as he intends it to. If he's going to live up to the rumors that surround him, well, he's going to have to look the part isn't it he? Yes of course. All the play acting has turned into a true fact of him.
Many accuse him of play acting, perhaps not to his face, but they do from time to time. That is one thing Laurelfang with fight when said about himself. He's a sincere sort of personality. He might charm and woo others his way, but in no way would he lie to them about his intent. Any affection displayed to any cat in his life, is genuine and meant. It's not that he won't lie, or can't, it's simply that he has no real interest in lying to those he cares about. Anyone else? They are fair game, and the more he dislikes them, the more inclined he is to tell extravagant lies. Laurelfang doesn't see himself as a bad sort of cat. He thinks himself a good example of what 'good' looks like. Perhaps it's linked to the idea that if he didn't the thoughts he keeps himself from dwelling on, would sour him. He'd be as harsh and bitter as his grandfather. He does his best to remain friendly
Which he is, to a great extent. There is a great deal that Laurefang will put up with from friends and Clanmates. The moment it comes from someone outside those two categories, the tom finds good reasons to take offense. Laurelfang was given his suffix for a reason, and it wasn't because he nips poppy-seeds from the medicine cat's den in his free time. The differences between the Clans is something he supports whole heartedly. Dalliances between two different Clans are not things he'll support or aid you in keeping secret. The warrior code is something he cherishes. It keeps the path straight and narrow enough for him to know when too much is too much. On that note, perhaps he has moments where he himself is 'too much'.
You see, Laurelfang is a protective creature. Protective over family, friends, Clan-mates, anything he considers 'his'. When he decides that he is in fact a friend to you, he will do everything for you, including murder depending on the situation. As protective as he is, going as far as possessive would not be uncalled for. Laurelfang has a thing about cats he considers 'his'. Family, friends, lovers, his Clan. THe list can grow as shrink as needed, all you need concern yourself with is the fact that you ought not come between them.
This possessiveness tends to stem from the fact that Laurelfang is a cat who gets attached easily enough that it's probably not a good thing. He's an observant tom, and the things he picks up on tend to have their way of endearing themselves to him. Simply 'letting it go' isn't in his nature in the slightest, and letting cats flow in and out of his life is something that causes their own micro fractures. That's alright though. They're good and happy, and he'll be good and happy. In a list of who comes first and last in his life, 'Laurelfang' is a name that makes the list in only an after thought.
Snowfeather - a white queen with blue eyes - mother - queen
Graytalon - large gray tom with green eyes - father - warrior
Longclaw - scarred tabby tom with blue eyes - grandfather/mentor - elder
" We all learn from our parents when we're young. My mother was my only parent, and so, she was my whole world. "
Laurelkit was born to Snowfeather on a cold spring day, an hour before dawn. The white queen had never spoken of the kit-to-be's father, and aside from the medicine cat and any of the other queens in the nursery, she was quite alone. Perhaps it was for the best that the only kit she delivered, was a white tom who looked to be the spitting image of his mother. Riverstorm declared him healthy, and then swept from the den as that was that. Snowfeather had cleaned her son, grooming him gently, relishing the tiny squeaks she got in return. Laurelkit's father, was a tom of WindClan. Snowfeather may not have seen much reason in the way of fidelity, but she knew loyalty to her Clan. Perhaps it was vanity, or relief, but when she curled about her snow white son, it as almost impossible to tell them from one lump of fur.
Of course, the moment his eyes opened, the kit-blue eyes were a source of every-mounting stress on his mother. Every morning she would peer into his eyes, searching for the first hint of his true eye-color coming through the dominate blue. To StarClan, she sent silent pleas that he would bear her blue eyes, and not the color of his father's. It would have been simpler, to handle any dirty looks or sharp comments if he was her miniature completely.
" The day my mother saw the hints of green in my eyes, her expression fell to such a depth of disappointment and despair that I feared she would be ill. She offered me no explanation, and from that moment, I hated my eyes."
Laurelkit grew like other kits, playing and learning, forging friendships and competition. Every evening though, his mother would draw him close with a touch of her tail, and groom him from nose to tail. The older he grew, the more he attempted to return the favor. Theirs was a strong bond, and in many ways, they were the closest friends either of them had. Like all young ones, Laurelkit had many questions. Who was his father? Why wasn't he visiting? Why? Snowfeather would hush her son gently, as if to sooth him and usher him on to a different subject.
" My mother's view on love, was not optimistic. She didn't love my father, and at times I doubt she knew who he even was. In ways she was obsessed with beauty and affection. More than once she had lured a tom away from his mate, and they dallied. That way, she would expect the rejection, the gentle denial of more. That way, she'd not have to have her heart broken. "
Above almost everything, he learned the art of being gracious. His mother was a charismatic molly, and he saw it the way others treated her. She could worm her way into a more comfortable conversation with a few simple words, and quite honestly, dealt with anger and hate how a mother might a disgruntled kit. Snowfeather was a compassionate cat, and loved deeply. Perhaps, that was the problem.
" The first days of apprenticeship, I realized that the Clan's view of my mother wasn't what I had thought. It's always heart-breaking when you realize your idol is mortal."
Laurelpaw was made an apprentice in short order, without much hurrah about the thing. His mentor was a gruff old tabby tom, who had a way of talking that made him, at first, stare in blatant confusion. Longclaw, had seen better days. His ears were tattered, his face scarred, and he walked with a pronounced limp. Laurelpaw almost immediately despaired, because how was he to learn anything from a tom who could simply fall over dead at any moment? Longclaw taught him a special lesson, 'shut his mouth and pay attention.' The first week had Laurelpaw cleaning out the dens and nests, checking elders for ticks and fleas, and doing any other menial task.
Every time he reported a task done, Longclaw would regard him for a long moment, snort, and mutter under his breath before giving him another menial task. With green eyes narrowed in anger, he'd stalk off to do it, tail flicking furiously. Perhaps it was meant to be, for the first whispers of his world being tilted began in the elder's den. Yellowfur was chatting (read: bitching) at his long-time frenemy Rocknose. The pale ginger tom was going on about how he was sure that Graytalon had dallied with at least Snowfeather, and that it was 'good on him' for 'scoring' with such a beauty. Rocknose had hissed and spat at the ginger, rasping loudly, ' that's her boy you've got checkin' your worthless pelt for fleas, y'know!' Yellowfur had spared Laurelpaw a glance, before grunting, 'Boy know's what his mother's about, he'd have learned sooner or later'. Laurelpaw had finished his chore, and had all but fled from the den.
" That first lesson was difficult. It seemed once I'd heard Yellowfur's words, it was all I could see in other cat's glances and snide looks. I couldn't look my mother in the eye, and it went as far as avoiding her when I could."
Laurelpaw quickly lost his attitude. His shoulders hunched under the speculative looks of his clan-mates, and he became quite sullen. Longclaw, decided that he'd been taken down a peg or three, enough to finally teach him something. At first, Laurelpaw put little effort into training. It wasn't until Longclaw told him that if he were tired of the superior looks, and the whispers, then perhaps he ought to give the Clan a reason to respect him. That was the moment Laurelpaw realized the old tom had been teaching him a lesson. He had brought Laurelpaw low, only to force the young tom to realize he'd have to raise himself above it, or wallow in it.
Laurelpaw decided, that right then and there, that he would become one of the Clan's best warriors. Even if it cost him dearly. Longclaw rasped his laughter, and began training him properly. It wasn't long after that, perhaps a few moons, when he met Rowanpaw and his siblings. The young ginger tom became a cat that Laurelpaw kept one green eye on. The other apprentice was almost the opposite of charming Laurelpaw. Rowanpaw had his own difficulties to deal with, and quietly, and without being asked, Laurelpaw made himself a sort of shield between the distressed siblings and the rest of anyone who sought to cause conflict. He never made noise about it, merely found himself were he needed to be when he was needed. Somehow, the friendship persisted.
"Rowan was..well, Rowan. He's not a weak cat, he never was. However, everyone needs someone to lean on. Especially those who don't realize it. I was good at that, being someone to lean on. I still am."
The rest of Laurelpaw's apprenticeship passed in a typical fashion. He came Laurelfang, for is undeniable skill as a fighter. For the first time in six moons, he approached his mother, and a reconciliation was what occurred. The white queen hadn't been able to speak, purring as hard as she had been, and had simply set to grooming him as if no time had passed. Mother and son were reunited, as if nothing had happened. The only difference was that Longclaw joined them, and Laurelfang was introduced to the idea that his mentor was his grandfather, his mother's father. Life, for a time, was good.
The first two moons of being a warrior was good. Especially when a pretty molly by the name of Robinwing took note in him. Fairly quickly, the pair were seen together, almost constant companions. Laurelfang was pleased, and rather surprised. While he was vain enough to think himself handsome, he hadn't thought that others would take such an interested role in the matter. Either way, things didn't last long at all. One day the pair were grooming one another happily during mid-day, and the next Robinwing was gently explaining that she simply wasn't interested in a relationship. Laurelfang had agreed that he understood (he didn't), and the pair went their separate ways.
It was only when he saw her padding along with a gray tom, that he understood. She wasn't interested in a relationship with him. It hurt. However, he counted it as a fluke. These things happened, he knew that. Then, came a handsome older tom; Nightstep. If anything, Laurelfang had one heck of a crush on the black tom. Which was why he was rather excited when the tom started asking him to go on patrols with him, or talking and taking his meals with him. Nightstep was a good warrior, powerful and handsome. The pair became quite close, close enough for long enough that Laurelfang might have considered them mates. After all, when almost six moons pass and you spend your free time with the same cat and your friends, perhaps ideas begin to form.
Then, Nightstep delivered a blow that Laurelfang never quite healed from. Nightstep was going to be a father, with his mate, a tabby she-cat and wasn't that great? Laurelfang forced cheer, because Stripedcloud was a sweet queen and deserved happiness, and congratulated his friend. When he questioned the black tom about them, the warrior had the decency to look embarrassed. He explained that Stripedcloud and he had been going through a rough patch in their relationship, and perhaps in a fit of vindictiveness he'd done what he'd done to try and move on from his first love. However, true love was apparently not to be denied. Laurelfang sat for a long time, watching the older warrior walk away from him.
" I think, what hurt more than anything was that I could not hate either of them. I loved Nightstep dearly, and his happiness was priority to me. Even if it was not with me. I made a choice that day, one I have supported since then."
Laurelfang didn't become angry or bitter. He accepted it for what it was. His mother blamed herself, for her reputation might have passed to her son. Laurelfang took it as it came. What could have made him hateful and resentful,he turned into a chance to provide comfort and affection for those who needed it. Laurelfang would go through partners at different rates, whatever they wanted he gave. Either way, for a week or more than a moon, he would play their devoted lover. Affection, attention, company, he was theirs. Not often did he become as forward as to approach others, for most knew he was open to affections.
However, Rowanfrost remained a steadfast in Laurelfang's life. Not in a romantic sense, but as he best friend. He knew, and he saw how much Rowan's family meant to him, and to what lengths he would go. It was as he watched his ginger friend seem to fall slowly into a pit as Poppyheart put herself in a new relationship, that he intervened. He refused to watch his friend shove himself along, along the path that would end in tragedy for at least one party.
So he offered Rowanfrost comfort and care, the only way he could. To admit that something in his mind sighed in delight, and a nagging feeling of selfishness, was soundly ignored.
too long; didn't read:
- Only knows that Snowfeather is his mommy. Loved her lots and lots.
- Laurelfang doesn't know who his father is. His mother does. She hasn't chosen to tell him, if ever.
- Made an apprentice, to his grandfather Longclaw. Longclaw made his first week of apprenticeship emotional hell, in a way.
- Discovered his mother was considered rather 'promiscuous' and 'free' with her affections.
- Resolves to give the Clan something to say about him, and not in the same manner of which they discuss his mother.
- Meet Rowanpaw. Resolves that he'll be the shield between Rowan and the Clan when need be.