Post by fable on Jun 24, 2020 22:51:10 GMT -6
Thymestar
@/thyme - a large pale bengal she-cat with striking blue eyes
| 42 MOONS | female | hetero | windclan | leader |
TRAITS
| + Thoughtful + Kind + Tactful + Loyal + intelligent + passionate | - sly - Apathetic - Calculating - careless - narrow-minded - opportunistic |
PERSONALITY
An enigma if ever there were one, attempting to understand Thymestar wholly would be similar to trying to solve a puzzle without having all the pieces. It is most often that she can be found by her clanmates a reserved, soft-spoken molly without a confrontational bone in her body. Weak, some might call her for this apparent lack of passion. And, in some regards, her clanmates are not completely wrong. Thymestar is still uncertain in herself - let alone her leadership - and has made more than a few mistakes in her lifetime that never seem to lessen their hold on the she-cat. She is gentle, kind, quiet, thoughtful, and compassionate.
On the surface, at least.
Beneath such an appearance of mercy lurks something very different - something cold and calculating and morally grey. Everything Thymestar does is for the good of the clan or for the good of herself. There is no cooperation between clans in the eyes of a she-cat dedicated to the superiority of Windclan. Nothing matters but what she deems to matter, nothing has worth unless she assigns it value. A double-edged sword if ever there were one, Thymestar might extend the hand of compassion and grace but will never fail to expect something in return. There is nothing, nothing, the calculating molly does without definitive purpose and certainly she will not bestow her friendship upon someone without thinking they might have something worth offering.
Prone to bottling her anger away, Thymestar is often nothing more than a ticking time bomb with a smile. She will push emotion after emotion down, down, down until there is simply nowhere left to hide away her true feelings. This hurricane lurking just beneath a pristine surface poses an eminent danger to any nearby when the storm finally breaks. There is no reasoning with Thymestar during these fits of rage, no consoling or calming, as the bengal allows her demons the reins. These are perhaps the only times the molly might make the first move in an attack or confrontation.
But, despite these rather negative attributes, Thymestar is still not a completely dark individual. She can still care for others deeply should they have her respect and would do anything for the sake of her clan, even if it should cost her everything. She is made of an iron will and a determination to succeed so strong it drives her forward into the most daunting of tasks.
________________________________________________________________
I found a monster under my skin.
On the surface, at least.
Beneath such an appearance of mercy lurks something very different - something cold and calculating and morally grey. Everything Thymestar does is for the good of the clan or for the good of herself. There is no cooperation between clans in the eyes of a she-cat dedicated to the superiority of Windclan. Nothing matters but what she deems to matter, nothing has worth unless she assigns it value. A double-edged sword if ever there were one, Thymestar might extend the hand of compassion and grace but will never fail to expect something in return. There is nothing, nothing, the calculating molly does without definitive purpose and certainly she will not bestow her friendship upon someone without thinking they might have something worth offering.
Prone to bottling her anger away, Thymestar is often nothing more than a ticking time bomb with a smile. She will push emotion after emotion down, down, down until there is simply nowhere left to hide away her true feelings. This hurricane lurking just beneath a pristine surface poses an eminent danger to any nearby when the storm finally breaks. There is no reasoning with Thymestar during these fits of rage, no consoling or calming, as the bengal allows her demons the reins. These are perhaps the only times the molly might make the first move in an attack or confrontation.
But, despite these rather negative attributes, Thymestar is still not a completely dark individual. She can still care for others deeply should they have her respect and would do anything for the sake of her clan, even if it should cost her everything. She is made of an iron will and a determination to succeed so strong it drives her forward into the most daunting of tasks.
________________________________________________________________
I found a monster under my skin.
She’s all craving and wild,
Long howls and strong limbs.
She paces through my veins,
Feet hitting earth like drum beats,
I hear her coming when my blood
sings.
She’s got fire in her eyes,
And prey in her teeth,
Jaws like vows, unyielding,
Iron like her will.
I promised her the world,
And she ate it whole, hungry still.
- x
- x
HISTORY
-PRE
The story of Thymeheart and Greyflight was one of undying love and devotion to not only one another but to their family and clan as well. They were a match designed by the stars - pledging themselves to one another at the very start of their warriorhood. It seemed there was no mountain the pair could not conquer, no storm they could not weather if they simply remained side-by-side. Nothing could tear them apart it would appear.
But fate is often a cruel master.
-KIT
It was the dead of leaf-bare when Thymeheart found herself pitched into labor quite too early for much to go well. She screamed and she wailed into the night as, one-by-one, the kits she bore fell dead on the leaves. Greyflight was beside himself with horror by the time a she-cat was born into the freezing world and it would take him a moment to realize that this final daughter was among the living. But it would seem all was for naught to the bengal warrior as Thymeheart drew her final breath - unable to even lay eyes on her first child for even a moment before passing into Starclan. It was a horror-filled night many would never forget.
All perhaps but one. Thymekit would never remember the beating of her mother’s heart slowly fading to nothing, she would never remember her blood-siblings falling still nor her father’s heartbroken cries. All the little she-cat would ever know would be the embrace of her adoptive mother, the love of her new brothers and sisters, and the absentee father who would never recover from a grief she’d never know. As she grew she might’ve wondered over her father’s distance but never could she find it in herself to care. What was it to her, after all? She’d never known any of the cats her father grieved. The little she-cat didn’t even truly know the tom that told her she must feel the pain he felt too. Anger and difference were quick to separate the only remaining members of a once promising family. But it wasn’t truly consequential to the she-cat as she pushed her father from her mind. After all, Thymekit was far too busy with her siblings to allow her time to pay much attention to anything else.
Crowkit, Rook-kit, Ospreykit, and Cranekit were a rowdy, loud bunch that never seemed to rest. The group tumbled around the nursery as only kits are able to do - inventing games and pranks that would become the stuff of legend as the kits grew and grew. Soon enough the nursery could not contain the five’s thirst for adventure as they pushed restlessly against their boundaries. They were quite enough to keep more than a few queens and apprentices busy and would often find themselves rushing to and from the nursery as groundings and punishments were dolled out in endless streams. The exasperation of their clanmates was hardly deterrent enough for the five wild children, however.
-PAW
In their time the kits become apprentices, joining the apprentice’s den in a flurry of action and excitement. Thymepaw - often considered to have been the quietest of the bunch - was given to an equally quiet young she-cat named Basilnose to be trained. The pair were a perfect match for one another - complementing one another’s strengths and weaknesses they quickly became the best of friends. Under Basilnose’s guidance Thymepaw excelled in her training to surpass even her best friend and worst advisory Rookpaw. Everything seemed to be going as perfectly as could be expected for an apprentice. Thymepaw and her siblings remained as wild and unpredictable as ever, causing mayhem whenever they thought they could get away with it and sometimes even when they didn’t. Life is made to be enjoyed, after all.
But no-one, no matter how thoroughly they might believe it, is invincible.
At just eight moons of age the five growing apprentices thought they were quite untouchable - the mightiest warriors in the entirety of the forest. Nothing could possibly harm them if they snuck away to the borders in the dead of night. And so they went, thinking themselves little warriors going to perform their duty to patrol the border. It was out here - quite alone and vulnerable without the help of their clanmates - the five would encounter a group of rogues lingering at the borders edge. Feeling emboldened by the presence of her siblings Thymepaw approached the group and demanded their business with Windclan. The five apprentices had barely any time to react before the rogues fell upon them.
The night - once so quiet and peaceful and wholly safe - was filled with the shrieks of fighting, dying cats. Thymepaw fought with terror and horror coursing through her veins. She prayed for someone to come find them, to help them, as blood spilled around her. But it was much too late when help finally did arrive to aid the struggling children.
Silence blanketed the battlefield with the heaviness of terrible truth. When Thymepaw finally forced herself to her paws bleeding and bruised and certainly in shock, she would find herself faced with a scene to give even the strongest warrior nightmares. Crowpaw, Cranepaw, and Basilnose lay dead on the ground alongside the bodies of two nameless rogues the apprentices had so bravely - or perhaps foolishly - fought. Thymepaw finally understood her father’s grief.
For nearly a moon after the incident not a single cat could coax the remaining siblings from the safety of camp. Thymepaw was given to a new mentor - this time an older tom nearing retirement - to finish her training. Thymepaw had never known what it felt like to be broken. She’d never known her mother or stillborn siblings and had never known the pain of their absence as her new siblings filled the gap. But now? Thymepaw found herself not only grieving the siblings she’d grown up alongside but the siblings she’d never had the chance to know. What could have been? What would have been different had they lived?
But her new mentor would not allow her to wallow in her guilt for long. The aging tom guided her out onto the moors and explained that her siblings would not have wanted her to waste away in the life she’d been given. She’d lived. They’d gone. If she could not live for herself then she must live for the lives taken far too soon. It was a talk that Thymepaw would never forget and would always find herself grateful for. She threw herself back into training with renewed vigor - determined to honor the memory of her lost family through her life.
-WATER
At twelve moons of age the apprentices emerged - damaged and stronger for it - as warriors of Windclan. Rooksting named for his barbed tongue and sharp-wit, Ospreysky for her speed and clarity of mind, and Thymewater named for her calm intellect and determination. It was a ceremony marred with the loss of their siblings, both joyful and bittersweet as they remembered how excited Cranepaw had been to become a warrior and how equally nervous Crowpaw had been. Even Basilnose lingered on her former apprentice’s mind as Thymewater completed her first warrior patrol. Basilnose, the sweet and determined she-cat that had so wanted to serve her clan as deputy, was perhaps what inspired the newly named warrior to wish to follow in her footsteps.
The story of Thymeheart and Greyflight was one of undying love and devotion to not only one another but to their family and clan as well. They were a match designed by the stars - pledging themselves to one another at the very start of their warriorhood. It seemed there was no mountain the pair could not conquer, no storm they could not weather if they simply remained side-by-side. Nothing could tear them apart it would appear.
But fate is often a cruel master.
-KIT
It was the dead of leaf-bare when Thymeheart found herself pitched into labor quite too early for much to go well. She screamed and she wailed into the night as, one-by-one, the kits she bore fell dead on the leaves. Greyflight was beside himself with horror by the time a she-cat was born into the freezing world and it would take him a moment to realize that this final daughter was among the living. But it would seem all was for naught to the bengal warrior as Thymeheart drew her final breath - unable to even lay eyes on her first child for even a moment before passing into Starclan. It was a horror-filled night many would never forget.
All perhaps but one. Thymekit would never remember the beating of her mother’s heart slowly fading to nothing, she would never remember her blood-siblings falling still nor her father’s heartbroken cries. All the little she-cat would ever know would be the embrace of her adoptive mother, the love of her new brothers and sisters, and the absentee father who would never recover from a grief she’d never know. As she grew she might’ve wondered over her father’s distance but never could she find it in herself to care. What was it to her, after all? She’d never known any of the cats her father grieved. The little she-cat didn’t even truly know the tom that told her she must feel the pain he felt too. Anger and difference were quick to separate the only remaining members of a once promising family. But it wasn’t truly consequential to the she-cat as she pushed her father from her mind. After all, Thymekit was far too busy with her siblings to allow her time to pay much attention to anything else.
Crowkit, Rook-kit, Ospreykit, and Cranekit were a rowdy, loud bunch that never seemed to rest. The group tumbled around the nursery as only kits are able to do - inventing games and pranks that would become the stuff of legend as the kits grew and grew. Soon enough the nursery could not contain the five’s thirst for adventure as they pushed restlessly against their boundaries. They were quite enough to keep more than a few queens and apprentices busy and would often find themselves rushing to and from the nursery as groundings and punishments were dolled out in endless streams. The exasperation of their clanmates was hardly deterrent enough for the five wild children, however.
-PAW
In their time the kits become apprentices, joining the apprentice’s den in a flurry of action and excitement. Thymepaw - often considered to have been the quietest of the bunch - was given to an equally quiet young she-cat named Basilnose to be trained. The pair were a perfect match for one another - complementing one another’s strengths and weaknesses they quickly became the best of friends. Under Basilnose’s guidance Thymepaw excelled in her training to surpass even her best friend and worst advisory Rookpaw. Everything seemed to be going as perfectly as could be expected for an apprentice. Thymepaw and her siblings remained as wild and unpredictable as ever, causing mayhem whenever they thought they could get away with it and sometimes even when they didn’t. Life is made to be enjoyed, after all.
But no-one, no matter how thoroughly they might believe it, is invincible.
At just eight moons of age the five growing apprentices thought they were quite untouchable - the mightiest warriors in the entirety of the forest. Nothing could possibly harm them if they snuck away to the borders in the dead of night. And so they went, thinking themselves little warriors going to perform their duty to patrol the border. It was out here - quite alone and vulnerable without the help of their clanmates - the five would encounter a group of rogues lingering at the borders edge. Feeling emboldened by the presence of her siblings Thymepaw approached the group and demanded their business with Windclan. The five apprentices had barely any time to react before the rogues fell upon them.
The night - once so quiet and peaceful and wholly safe - was filled with the shrieks of fighting, dying cats. Thymepaw fought with terror and horror coursing through her veins. She prayed for someone to come find them, to help them, as blood spilled around her. But it was much too late when help finally did arrive to aid the struggling children.
Silence blanketed the battlefield with the heaviness of terrible truth. When Thymepaw finally forced herself to her paws bleeding and bruised and certainly in shock, she would find herself faced with a scene to give even the strongest warrior nightmares. Crowpaw, Cranepaw, and Basilnose lay dead on the ground alongside the bodies of two nameless rogues the apprentices had so bravely - or perhaps foolishly - fought. Thymepaw finally understood her father’s grief.
For nearly a moon after the incident not a single cat could coax the remaining siblings from the safety of camp. Thymepaw was given to a new mentor - this time an older tom nearing retirement - to finish her training. Thymepaw had never known what it felt like to be broken. She’d never known her mother or stillborn siblings and had never known the pain of their absence as her new siblings filled the gap. But now? Thymepaw found herself not only grieving the siblings she’d grown up alongside but the siblings she’d never had the chance to know. What could have been? What would have been different had they lived?
But her new mentor would not allow her to wallow in her guilt for long. The aging tom guided her out onto the moors and explained that her siblings would not have wanted her to waste away in the life she’d been given. She’d lived. They’d gone. If she could not live for herself then she must live for the lives taken far too soon. It was a talk that Thymepaw would never forget and would always find herself grateful for. She threw herself back into training with renewed vigor - determined to honor the memory of her lost family through her life.
-WATER
At twelve moons of age the apprentices emerged - damaged and stronger for it - as warriors of Windclan. Rooksting named for his barbed tongue and sharp-wit, Ospreysky for her speed and clarity of mind, and Thymewater named for her calm intellect and determination. It was a ceremony marred with the loss of their siblings, both joyful and bittersweet as they remembered how excited Cranepaw had been to become a warrior and how equally nervous Crowpaw had been. Even Basilnose lingered on her former apprentice’s mind as Thymewater completed her first warrior patrol. Basilnose, the sweet and determined she-cat that had so wanted to serve her clan as deputy, was perhaps what inspired the newly named warrior to wish to follow in her footsteps.
| PREFIX; after her mother | SUFFIX; for her rank within the clan |
| fable | |
| AGE | PRONOUNS |
| TIME ZONE | CONTACT |
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