Post by Akameda on Nov 7, 2016 2:15:47 GMT
TANSYHEART of RIVERCLAN
MOLLY
31 MOONS
RIVERCLAN
WARRIOR
GINGER & ORANGE
GRUDGING
APPEARANCE
Of average height and stout build, Tansyheart is proud of the strength within her body. She carries herself with a soft-pawed gait, which is made easier by the webbing and large amount of fluff between her toes. Ginger fur in a variety of shades covers her from head to toe, with darker colors along her back, and lighter ones on her underbelly. Though, like her back, her forepaws and tail sport dark shades, while her face and hindpaws express the same lighter ones as her underside. Mackerel tabby stripes down her sides and head, and rings around her neck and her tail. Scars crop up at various points on her figure, though most are felt rather than seen, primarily a divet taken out of the back of her right leg.
PERSONALITY
Noble and dependable, Tansyheart has done her best to serve her Clan for as long as she can remember. However, the dreams of her kithood have all but been dashed- and she's not even quite three years of age yet. She yearns to be revered among her peers as a capable, beloved Warrior, to have the sort of notoriety that she once did, and is driven towards reclaiming it as much as she is driven towards reclaiming her kits' affections.
A very goal-oriented feline, it's hard to imagine that she might be one prone to straying. Indulging in weakness and sin was nothing that she had ever planned for, but when to tack on a trusting nature, impulsive desires, and a romantic heart, you have a cocktail for a great many unplanned decisions- and not all of them benefiting her in the long run.
Overall, Tansyheart is a nervous individual. She cares about what other cats think despite stressing the contrary, and it brings her a great deal of unrest. However, on the surface, she appears mostly placid, and even easygoing from time to time. Calm and composed, with her life together, this she-cat has done her best to undermine every last unfavorable trait within herself, to mixed results. Her picture of an ideal cat is one that's unfaltering and powerful, able to take down foes with a single swipe and win the hearts of all their Clanmates, even the grumpier ones. A cat with an iron heart and iron claws, as it were. And she knows she's so terribly far from being that, which is why she pushes towards faking that demeanor to make up for it.
One day she's certain she'll make it. For now, it's one step at a time.
A very goal-oriented feline, it's hard to imagine that she might be one prone to straying. Indulging in weakness and sin was nothing that she had ever planned for, but when to tack on a trusting nature, impulsive desires, and a romantic heart, you have a cocktail for a great many unplanned decisions- and not all of them benefiting her in the long run.
Overall, Tansyheart is a nervous individual. She cares about what other cats think despite stressing the contrary, and it brings her a great deal of unrest. However, on the surface, she appears mostly placid, and even easygoing from time to time. Calm and composed, with her life together, this she-cat has done her best to undermine every last unfavorable trait within herself, to mixed results. Her picture of an ideal cat is one that's unfaltering and powerful, able to take down foes with a single swipe and win the hearts of all their Clanmates, even the grumpier ones. A cat with an iron heart and iron claws, as it were. And she knows she's so terribly far from being that, which is why she pushes towards faking that demeanor to make up for it.
One day she's certain she'll make it. For now, it's one step at a time.
HISTORY
Three kits born, and only one made it to weaning, Whitefish and Gorsetail were beside themselves for much of Tansyheart's kithood. They did their best to love their daughter as much as they knew she deserved to be loved, but it was impossible to hide the sorrow at all hours of every day, especially for Whitefish whom had to spend most all of every day caring for her. Tansyheart saw through them, and though there came the occasional tantrum over unfairness and lack of attention, for the most part the young kit wanted to alleviate their suffering. Games, jokes, affection, she tried everything she could think of, even following advice from other, older cats, and other kits.
But it wasn't enough. It couldn't be. The only thing that was going to heal their hearts about their lost kits was time.
Tansyheart sought solace among other family and friends during her kithood, and then her apprenticeship. Her mentor was a harsh, older tom of dubious level of concern for her safety, but she didn't mind him so much. Not until her tenth moon when they were sparring by the river. Tansypaw had put up a good fight- too good for the old tom to handle as far as his pride went- but in the end Littlefire had pinned her down with a paw on her head and one on her chest. Aggravated, she kicked out, but he dodged, pulling his lower half out just enough to avoid her strikes.
As she refused to back down, his frustration and fury grew, and with a heave of her somewhat smaller body, he hefted her into the river nearby. She came up with a vehement hiss, spluttering back to the surface with a series of strongly-worded curses, but Littlefire was on top of her before she knew it, regaining his hold- holding her head under the water.
Suddenly terrified, Tansypaw fought against her mentor with all of her might, but it wasn't until her mind was hazy, and water was beginning to gather in her lungs, that Littlefire relented. He tossed her back to shore and stalked off, leaving her to cough up all the river residue on her own, and slip back to camp unkempt and shivering. Luckily the leader caught sight of her shortly after he had witnessed Littlefire's arrival in camp. He asked her what happened, to which she denied. Then again he asked, and again she denied. It was on the third try that Tansypaw finally gave in, sobbing her distressing tale.
That was the last she ever saw of Littlefire. No, the leader didn't kill him for a single (albeit horrid) mistake with an apprentice. In fact, he didn't kill him at all. It was exile, or so Tansypaw had heard. His problem with her was apparently some sort of repeating pattern, and that was the last straw. Tansypaw felt guilt over ratting him out, but was grateful to not have to live through more of that sort of tutelage.
She was given a new mentor, Featherfur, and completed her training on time, much to her own pride.
Her parents had grown closer with her since the incident, after it was reported to them by the leader. It was their fear over losing her as well, mixed with their own pride for her stepping forward against her mentor. From then, they started to feel like a real family, and Tansypaw couldn't have been happier for it.
It wasn't too long after her graduation into Warriorhood that Tansyheart's ample patrols were met with a little resistance. Strangely enough, it wasn't of the hostile sort. A handsome, gentlemanly loner had wandered into the territory and caught himself some prey, and she, the first to spot him. Initially her hackles rose, and with it her anger. She surged forward ready for a fight, but what that confrontation birthed wasn't blood under her claws or the newfound respect (or hatred) from some faceless, nameless loner. But love. At eighteen moons she fell for a dark and mysterious stranger, and he for her. It was a true example of puppy love. Her heart fluttered to think of him, skipped a beat to see him. All she wanted was to spend time with him, and that left her considerably short-sighted in her duties and friendships in coming moons.
By twenty-two moons she was pregnant, and though she had every right to fear for her safety and that of her kits, she was ecstatic. Though, shortly after she delivered the news to their father, she stopped seeing him. Worry made her consider that he had moved on, and she fretfully frequented their meeting spots for the next few weeks hoping she was wrong.
But then there he came one afternoon, just as relieved to see her and she was to see him. It was that her Clan had been tracking him for some time, and he had to stay away to keep from getting caught and killed, or for her to be caught. Tansyheart understood, lapping up his words whether they were true or mere lies.
The kits came one warm, late Newleaf afternoon, and all Tansyheart could think as she looked at their little faces- one boy and one girl- was that her mate, their father, needed to see them, and be in their lives. Her mind was made up, that next time the two of them were to meet, she would convince him to join the Clan. That way their union was no longer wrong in the eyes of the Code or the Clan, or StarClan. Then they could be together all the time, and raise their family with all the love and care they had in their hearts for each other and their precious litter.
Though, the next time they met- when the kits were a staggering moon and a half old- the Clan interrupted their conversation, and that's the day Tansyheart is certain she died on the inside.
All at once she lost her mate, her kits, her reputation- everything. What hurt the most were her kits. They were so young and forced from her without a care in the world. She hissed and argued her need to have them, and further still their need to have her, but despite her protests and their yearning, whimpering mews, the Clan didn't relent. Her punishment was their punishment, and Tansyheart was forced to watch, for two whole moons, as her kits were cared for by another queen. They're mine, she must have said and thought it a hundred times every other day at least. It wasn't fair. She'd been in love, she- Tansyheart flipped on her sentiments not even a week after her kits were taken from her. She pleaded that she didn't love the tom, that it meant nothing, and that it was all for kits, but not even that helped.
When she was finally returned her offspring, it wasn't the same. The bond had been fractured and broken, and with it, Tansyheart's heart. She did her best to regain the love and affection of her kits to no avail. She watched them become apprentices with loving eyes, despite their indifference and/or contempt of her.
Now she struggles to repair not only her relationship with her kits, but also with the rest of her family, and the rest of the Clan. Determination, grief, and a grudge the size of all four territories combined keeps her going, and there's not anycat that can stop her.
But it wasn't enough. It couldn't be. The only thing that was going to heal their hearts about their lost kits was time.
Tansyheart sought solace among other family and friends during her kithood, and then her apprenticeship. Her mentor was a harsh, older tom of dubious level of concern for her safety, but she didn't mind him so much. Not until her tenth moon when they were sparring by the river. Tansypaw had put up a good fight- too good for the old tom to handle as far as his pride went- but in the end Littlefire had pinned her down with a paw on her head and one on her chest. Aggravated, she kicked out, but he dodged, pulling his lower half out just enough to avoid her strikes.
As she refused to back down, his frustration and fury grew, and with a heave of her somewhat smaller body, he hefted her into the river nearby. She came up with a vehement hiss, spluttering back to the surface with a series of strongly-worded curses, but Littlefire was on top of her before she knew it, regaining his hold- holding her head under the water.
Suddenly terrified, Tansypaw fought against her mentor with all of her might, but it wasn't until her mind was hazy, and water was beginning to gather in her lungs, that Littlefire relented. He tossed her back to shore and stalked off, leaving her to cough up all the river residue on her own, and slip back to camp unkempt and shivering. Luckily the leader caught sight of her shortly after he had witnessed Littlefire's arrival in camp. He asked her what happened, to which she denied. Then again he asked, and again she denied. It was on the third try that Tansypaw finally gave in, sobbing her distressing tale.
That was the last she ever saw of Littlefire. No, the leader didn't kill him for a single (albeit horrid) mistake with an apprentice. In fact, he didn't kill him at all. It was exile, or so Tansypaw had heard. His problem with her was apparently some sort of repeating pattern, and that was the last straw. Tansypaw felt guilt over ratting him out, but was grateful to not have to live through more of that sort of tutelage.
She was given a new mentor, Featherfur, and completed her training on time, much to her own pride.
Her parents had grown closer with her since the incident, after it was reported to them by the leader. It was their fear over losing her as well, mixed with their own pride for her stepping forward against her mentor. From then, they started to feel like a real family, and Tansypaw couldn't have been happier for it.
It wasn't too long after her graduation into Warriorhood that Tansyheart's ample patrols were met with a little resistance. Strangely enough, it wasn't of the hostile sort. A handsome, gentlemanly loner had wandered into the territory and caught himself some prey, and she, the first to spot him. Initially her hackles rose, and with it her anger. She surged forward ready for a fight, but what that confrontation birthed wasn't blood under her claws or the newfound respect (or hatred) from some faceless, nameless loner. But love. At eighteen moons she fell for a dark and mysterious stranger, and he for her. It was a true example of puppy love. Her heart fluttered to think of him, skipped a beat to see him. All she wanted was to spend time with him, and that left her considerably short-sighted in her duties and friendships in coming moons.
By twenty-two moons she was pregnant, and though she had every right to fear for her safety and that of her kits, she was ecstatic. Though, shortly after she delivered the news to their father, she stopped seeing him. Worry made her consider that he had moved on, and she fretfully frequented their meeting spots for the next few weeks hoping she was wrong.
But then there he came one afternoon, just as relieved to see her and she was to see him. It was that her Clan had been tracking him for some time, and he had to stay away to keep from getting caught and killed, or for her to be caught. Tansyheart understood, lapping up his words whether they were true or mere lies.
The kits came one warm, late Newleaf afternoon, and all Tansyheart could think as she looked at their little faces- one boy and one girl- was that her mate, their father, needed to see them, and be in their lives. Her mind was made up, that next time the two of them were to meet, she would convince him to join the Clan. That way their union was no longer wrong in the eyes of the Code or the Clan, or StarClan. Then they could be together all the time, and raise their family with all the love and care they had in their hearts for each other and their precious litter.
Though, the next time they met- when the kits were a staggering moon and a half old- the Clan interrupted their conversation, and that's the day Tansyheart is certain she died on the inside.
All at once she lost her mate, her kits, her reputation- everything. What hurt the most were her kits. They were so young and forced from her without a care in the world. She hissed and argued her need to have them, and further still their need to have her, but despite her protests and their yearning, whimpering mews, the Clan didn't relent. Her punishment was their punishment, and Tansyheart was forced to watch, for two whole moons, as her kits were cared for by another queen. They're mine, she must have said and thought it a hundred times every other day at least. It wasn't fair. She'd been in love, she- Tansyheart flipped on her sentiments not even a week after her kits were taken from her. She pleaded that she didn't love the tom, that it meant nothing, and that it was all for kits, but not even that helped.
When she was finally returned her offspring, it wasn't the same. The bond had been fractured and broken, and with it, Tansyheart's heart. She did her best to regain the love and affection of her kits to no avail. She watched them become apprentices with loving eyes, despite their indifference and/or contempt of her.
Now she struggles to repair not only her relationship with her kits, but also with the rest of her family, and the rest of the Clan. Determination, grief, and a grudge the size of all four territories combined keeps her going, and there's not anycat that can stop her.
