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Description

All of her children are available for adoption, PM me for interest.

- B A S I C I N F O R M A T I O N -

Name: Whiterat
Name Meaning:
  White - When she was born, her entire pelt was pure white, though it has greyed with age.
Rat - given for her quick thinking and perserverance.
Past Name(s): Whitekit, Whitepaw
Nickname(s): Rat

Starting Date: 4/?/2018
Current Age: 9 years (108 moons)
  Starting Age: 9 years (108 Moons)

Physical Gender: Female
Gender Identity: Female
Voice:
Diana Rigg Example One (Olenna Tyrell)
Diana Rigg Example Two (Female narrorator @ beginning)

Theme Song(s):

Wait by the River - Lord Huron
Hurry Hurry - Air Traffic Controller
Organs - Of Monsters and Men
Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos
Forest Fires - Lauren Aquilina

- C L A N I N F O R M A T I O N -
Birth Clan: Lynx Clan
Current Clan: Lynx Clan
Rank: Warrior
Past Mentor: Tallwater
Apprentice: none
Past Apprentice(s): Batpaw (Currently known as Batnose)

              - S T A T S -
Level: 1

Path: ---

HP: 25/25
Dexterity: 12
Constitution: 5
Speed: 10
Stealth: 5
Charisma: 5
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 13

              - P H Y S I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N -
Body Type: Lithe and stringy, Whiterat's bones are brittle with age but her muscles are strong and she is extremely fit.
Fur Type: Soft and fine.
Fur Color: Grey and white.
Eye Color: Olive green.
Scars: A few from over the years, the worst of them being on her left hind leg - a reminder of when the rogues attacked.

Goals in Love:
None.

Goals in Life:
Become a mentor again ()
Prove that she is still a worthy warrior ()
Reconnect with her children ()

   - P E R S O N A L I T Y -
Positive
Neutral
Negative

|  Maternal |  Protective/Loyal |  Perceptive | Stubborn | Tenacious |  Critical | Inconsistent |  Begrudging |

Maternal:
Even before she gave birth to her own kits, Whiterat had a deep caring for children. She loves how the smile and their vigor for life. Due to extenuating circumstances, she was not very present in her own children's lives. She deeply regrets this, and acts as a mother to any who need it at the point in her life.

Protective/Loyal
Her entire being rests on this one unwavering trait. She cannot stand to see those she cares for hurt. If Whiterat were to ever double-cross someone, she would never be herself again. This came simply from the way she was brought up. When her mother told her that she was strong, it resonated with her that if she were strong, it was her job to protect the weak.

Perceptive:
White rat has lived a long life, and in this life she has learned to read the faces of others. While she can't read minds, those who know her very well would argue otherwise.

Stubborn:
Whiterat is the first to admit she is wrong when in fact she is - but the she-cat will not play dumb or wrong in a situation where she truly believes herself to be correct. She will not give up on a task until it is completely lost, and she will not let down until defeated. Her stubbornness has won her much, but lost her as well.

Tenacious:
"persisting in existence; not easily dispelled" is the basic definition of the trait, but for it to describe Whiterat one must go so much further. She wishes to exist as a legacy, one not forgotten, never useless, always unrelenting. In the twilight of her life, Whiterat feels there is reason to go on, and that she's destined to accomplish something before life abandons her elderly body.

Critical:
Although she generally means well, this is often seen as a negative trait in Whiterat. She wants the weak to be strong, and feels the best way to do that is to criticize the weaknesses the carry with them.

Inconsistent:
Aside from her loyalty, Whiterat hasn't always been the same cat. Her age hasn't helped her inconsistency either, and there are days when even she wonders if she should retire. It seems no one can really tell what the old girl is thinking- and basing any assumptions on her actions would be fools work.

Begrudging:
As if to mirror her loyal nature, rat hold a grudge for a long time. If one were to wrong her, it would be unlikely she ever forgive them, much less ever find trust in them. It is not to say that forgiveness in an impossible solution for the elderly warrior- but she won't sully her pride unless absolutely necessary.

Likes: Cool Summer days, cozy Winter nights, being listened too, figuring out others, seeing others improve, voles, family, apprentices, children
Dislikes: Rain, wind, toads, when others talk over her, talks of retirement, illogical argumentation, lies
Fears: Death, Not being needed

  - H I S T O R Y -
Kithood (0 - 5 Moons)
It was night when the small white shekit took her first breaths. Her eyes were tightly closed, and the world was just as black for her mother as it was for her. Most clan kittens are born in the safety of the nursery with a medicine cat to aide in their delivery, but Daisytooth was never one to do things the proper way. Among the other rumors that surrounded her, it was true that the father of her children was not her mate. The darkness was a friend to her in times as judging these and the dark cave seemed to be the safest place to birth the kittens that might look nothing like the cat she publically professed her love too. He would be worried, and something about that made Daisy happy. She liked to know how she was cared for as much as the next she-cat.

It was this night however she quietly regretted leaving the nursery in the middle of the night to be alone. The white she-kit was breathing - but the two black ones were not. No matter how she licked and rubbed their tiny bodies they would not mewl out as the first born did. Daisytooth cursed herself, sure she had made a grave mistake in order to protect her name. It was minutes later when one of the black kits gasped and let out a cry. Daisy tooth let out a cry of relief, laced with pain that she could not save them both. The warrior wrapped her body around their small bodies as the living began to suckle and let the night surround her like a blanket. Tonight she would find whatever comfort she could in the lives she had made, tomorrow she would burry the dead.

Despite being a rather young mother, Daisytooth raised her living children well. The male was slower than his brighter colored sister, and it pained her to hear the other mothers make jokes at his expense. She knew it was her fault that he was the way was - but he was alive and for that she could not complain. Daisytooth had named her children well, the male would be known as strongkit, and his sister whitekit. Strongkit followed his sister everywhere, and Daisytooth watched them grow with pride. Despite his name, there were whispers that strongkit would not be suited to a warrior life, and while future mentors looked at whitekit with longing, they often cringed at the thought of working with her brother who had proved to be a slow learner.

When it was finally time for the siblings to graduate and earn their mentors, whitekit was seen as the far superior choice, but her love for her brother did not waver.

Apprenticeship (6 - approx. 12 Moons)
Whitepaw entered apprenticeship unserendipitously and perfectly on time. The ceremony was short and a middleaged warrior known Tallwater became her mentor. Days spent in the training hollow started off short and exciting and as suns passed, it became long and tedious. Whitepaw and Strongpaw hardly saw eachother, and their training was almost to different from them to relate. Whitepaw missed her brother greatly and it frustrated her that someone born at the same time as her was not allowed to advance as quickly.

It was no suprise when Tallwater announced that Whitepaw would go on her first solo assignment that she demanded her brother be allowed to join her. Tallwater tried to convince her it was a bad idea, that Strongpaw needed more time to learn and that he would not hold her back for the sake of her sibling's feelings. Whitepaw exclaimed that she wouldn't be a warrior at all if she could not be one at her brothers side. She refused to train for the next few days after this. Instead she opted to take care of the elders and help around the camp. She made time for Strongpaw in these days and the two of them shared dreams of becoming great assets to their clan, and to make their ever loving mother proud.

Tallwater soon became impatient with his apprentice. She took every punishment he had handed out to her in stride, and they seemed not to bother her at all. She simply refused to train until Strongpaw caught up. It had been almost three weeks of constant struggle before he finally cracked under his own apprentices stubborn preassure. He figured fine, if she wanted to take her brother with her, he'd give her a simple assignment and let the dumb one accompany her.

Whitepaw and Strongpaw celebrated that day, knowing their first apprentice mission would take place as soon as the sun rose the next morning. The assignment was simple. Travel north towards Ravenclan territory. Be careful not to cross the territory line. Mark the Lynx clan territory line and return each with wetland prey as proof of their journey. The two apparentices should have returned by sunhigh - but things never go as planned.

Strongpaw had caught a well sized toad and Whitepaw a vole. She didn't quite think that counted as a wet land animal - but the creature sure smelled of it. They were feeling quite proud of themselves and were laughing and jumping as they made their way back to camp. They wondered if their mentors would allow them to train together now, and if perhaps they had proved they could become warriors at the same time together. They were about half way to camp, with the shadows long and the sun glinting off the nearby water when things took a turn for the worst. A small yelp and a splash and suddenly strong paw and his toad were chin eye in water that had not before appeared to be so deep. The bottomless hole had been something told about in stories to them as kits. They had shivered in their nests and had nightmares about the raw piece of nature when they were younger - but never had they dreamed in their apprenticeship it would pose an actual problem for their trained bodies.

A smarter cat might have let go of their prey and made their way to the edge and crawled out. A smarter cat might have known how to swim at all - but in the moment strongpaw became frozen. He had never been allowed near deep water before - never told what to do in a panicked situation like this. He was not a smarter cat, however, so instead his paws began to flail and his jaws tightened around the dead toad in his mouth. The weight sunk him down and Whitepaw screamed for help. She screamed for him to let go of the prey, she wailed for him to swim to the edge, but all the yelling in the world wouldn't save him. She dropped her own vole and jumped in as his head disappeared beneath the surface of the water. She felt her claws dig into his fur, and then her own teeth as she struggled to pull his much heavier weight up from the darkness the water created. It felt like entire minutes before Tallwater, and Strongpaw's mentor Featherflight appeared. Their strong warriors pulled his heavy body from the water and whitepaw swam up behind them, gasping for breath. She didn't know how they knew she had her brother needed help. She didn't stop to think that maybe they had been following the whole time - she only stared in horror as they tried to ressurect her brother from a watery grave.

When they returned to camp with his body, only Daisytooth felt a sudden sense of familiarity with the situation.

The rest of Whitepaw's apprenticeship passed quietly, with her mother whispering words of pain and hope in her ears at night. "Only the strong will survive" her mother said, "and you truly are strong" Something changed in her mother that day, just as something had changed in Whitepaw. She trained from that day forward not for herself - but for her brother who would never get to be the warrior they both dreamed of being.
Warriorhood (12 Moons - Current)

When she was finally named Whiterat, the she-cat thought it must be some kind of sick joke. There were sayings that it was impossible to drown a rat and she felt cold run through her body during the ceremony. She sat her vigil without complaint however, and swore she could feel her brothers body next to hers as she stood solo through out the night.

The first year of her life as a warrior was quiet, she grew and matured into a lady. While she still comtemplated the meaning of her name, it no longered sorrowed her as it once did. She had come to the conclusion over the year that Strongpaw would not of wanted her to mourn. He had never been the type to let the worst get to him. He would have poked fun at her dreary life outlook. Besides, clan politics had been merry and it seemed like there was nothing one should care about other than living life. She met a tom she liked and they contemplated making a life together. His name was Frostwick and the young Whiterat was conviced he must be the love of her life.

Of course, like a reccurring theme in her life, things never went as expected. With the turn of the season came a turn for the worst. Exactly eighty-four years before present time: the rogues attacked. Every warrior knew that the life came with risks, and if needed, you were expected to fight. The rogue wars hardened her and Frostwick, and the two cats grew appart as they fought. She found a pride in her work and he became cynical in the ways of the world. Still, Whiterat was determined to live the life her brother dreamed of.

It wasn't long after the rogues were defeated that Whiterat's mother made the announcement that she would be giving birth to another set of children. It was when they were born that Whiterat was convinced she had found her true calling in life. She visted her newborn siblings every morning before duties and every night before she finally fell into a sea of dreams. They consumed her entire being and she lived to care for them. When they finally came of age, she looked on with pride as they all recieved their graduated name. With the care that the white she-cat had put into her siblings life, it shouldn't have been a suprise when she was named Batpaw's mentor.

Still, the young warrior thanked her leader for the opportunity and looked to train her younger sister with all the love and care that she wished her brother had recieved. For Whiterat however, her caring came in the form of a harsh training regimen that would leave both she ahd her apprentice exhausted at the end of the day. She taught her younger sister everything she knew, from hunting to fighting, from climbing to swimming. There were nights when they would swim for hours, and roll out on the sand wet and tired. Other days they would climb their favorite tree as fast as they could and look upon the territories in awe. While Whiterat belived she made time for fun, as a mentor she would exhaust even the most active of apprentices. As she neared warriorhood, Batpaw began to run off and get herself into trouble. Whiterat found this exhaustive, and would angrily lash out at her sister and apprentice.

Weeks before Batpaw was scheduled to graduate - the flood happened.
Chaotic waves and unrelenting rain caused absolute havoc among the clan territories, and as the cats of the valley evacuated, Whiterat realized Batpaw was nowhere to be seen. A deep sense of dread filled the warrior's bones and for a moment she froze. Her paws locked up and her puils widened. She cursed the smaller black she-cat under her breath and turned from safety to find her.

Once the two she-cats returned to where the rest of their clan had found safety, a russet-colored tom came to great them.
"I know your name is rat- but I didn't think our leader meant a sewer rat!" he chimed with a smile that sparkled. Had it been anyone else, Whiterat would have bristled with offense, but something about his smile told her he meant no harm. Figuring Batpaw had enough lecturing on their journey to the clan, her mentor allowed herself a smirk and sly remark back. It was all the russet tom needed to know he would regret it forever if he did not properly introduce himself.

"Name's Stagthorn!"

From that day forward the two were inseperable, even training their apprentices together when they could. They were in love from the moment they saw eachother and there was freedom in eachothers company. Whiterat imagined the rest of her life next to Stagthorn, and he hoped the same of her. After Batpaw graduated and became a warrior, the lovers made their mateship official. Through clan disputes and prey shortages, the two grow together and nuture eachother. They seem to have a perfect relationships, and by the time Whiterat turned four years age, they had their first and only litter of kittens. As a grandmother, Daisytooth had a litter of her own, and Whiterat shared the nursery with her mother. After their kittens are born, Whiterat becomes restless, and often leaves Daisytooth to take care of her young so that she may attend to her own warrior duties.

The next two years passed with relatively little to talk about. Whiterat and Stagthorn's children grew from kittens to apprentices, and from apprentices to warriors. Having great pride in having raised to healthy children, Stagthorn asked Whiterat to carry a second litter, to which she refused. The she-cat had only turned greyer in raising two children, and she constantly feared for their safety. Daisytooth had passed away recently, and Whiterat couldn't possibly concieve having to go through child birth without her mother there to guide her again. She and Stagthorn fought, and as they aged they found they were more different than alike. Still, they stayed together and fought for eachother -hoping every day the spark that had ignited their relationship would burn once again.

Six moons ago, Stagthorn chose to retire. For this, Whiterat felt ashamed, but she still loved him. She was angry too, the clan was dealing with pressure from Raven Clan and their home needed every line of defense that it could muster. She knew the thought was selfish however, and figured only that she must now fight for the two of them. Whiterat had always been one to add more weight to her shoulders, but this was the first time that the pressure pained her.

A mere week after his retirement, Whiterat found herself attacked by a much younger, and stronger Ravenclan warrior. He was fully convinced that she was stealing his prey, though it was quite the opposite. She managed to win the fight for her skills were far superior, but not without gaining a new scar to her white shoulder. When she returned, Stagthorn was horrified. It seemed then the strain on their relationship was too much and he begged her the impossible. He pleaded that Whiterat retire with him. In that moment, blinded by shame and fury, she denied their mateship, ending it where it stood. The elderly warrior had always felt she must live the life of a warrior not only for herself, but for her brother. This was something Stag had known and she felt he simply did not understand that she must stay a Warrior till her last dying breath. When Stagthorn asked her to live a life of peace as an Elder with him, she only felt fire. She refused to accept that it was her time, and that Stag only wanted her to stay safe with him. This day was the last time they spoke.

As moons passed and Snakeclan formed, Whiterat felt a deep guilt. She still loved her ex-mate, but how could she face him after the things she had said? She would retire one day, this she knew, but it was just not her time. She felt she had so much more life to live before succumbing herself to life within the camp, doomed to bother apprentices for the rest of her life. As her friends passed on and preassure to retire came from other sources, Whiterat only aimed to become stronger. She helped new mentors with their apprentice training and ran on every patrol she could. Things began to feel normal again when she received the news: Stagthorn had died.

It was then the wall she had put up fell, and the struggles of her clan around her came crashing in. She had originally looked at the formation of Snakeclan as a good thing. Opening up new territory left more prey in the territories already occupied. Now as she walked through camp alone, she felt an impending sense of dread, friends of hers had left to join another clan, her mate was dead. Clan ties were weakening. Her very world was changing all too fast. Whiterat was alone.

Group History

As I RP!

              - R E L A T I O N S H I P S -
Orientation: Straight.
Availability: Not looking.
Ideal Relationship and Traits: none.
Crush: none.
Mate: none.
Ex-Mate(s): Stagthorn (deceased)
Offspring: 2 Children - should be warriors, PM me if you would like to make them!

LynxClan
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description

RavenClan
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description

SnakeClan
Exampleclaw | @ |  Rank | - Relationship Description

Non-Clan
Exampleclaw | @ |  Rank | - Relationship Description

          - R O L E P L A Y -

Example A (Small, Recent):

Moon mist and night dew sure looked beautiful, but Whiterat had not grown to see things romantically. In her age the she-cat found that the sparkling grass was more annoying than it was something to gaze at. It made her paws moist and she had to extend her claws with every step to keep from slipping. If that wasn't enough, the night fog clung to her fur and the elder warrior was sure the cold would eat right through her pelt and gnaw at her bones.

Despite the unpleasantness however, she trudged on. Occasionally the pale-coated warrior would stop and lift her nose to smell the air, and the mist would only reply with stuffing her nose, which she scrunched in vexed answer. Her apprentice had a habit of sneaking out at night, and usually she would be angry at the smaller she-cat. Tonight however Whiterat was only worried, the recent rainwater warned of flash floods, and the darkening sky was rightfully ominous. She would hate for the very cat she was grooming to become a warrior to be swept away like a fly in the wind.

She had just gone to lift her nose for a fifth time when a quick, quiet crunch sounded behind her. The old rat didn't turn however, if someone was sneaking up on her; Whiterat didn't want them to know that she knew. Instead she walked forward with the same confidence as before, not daring to glance behind her. Still she wondered, who might be so untrusting as to follow her into this good night?

Example B (Older):
docs.google.com/document/d/1hX…

Preferred Methods:
Google docs
Discord

I will not rp through notes or skype.

Description

All of her children are available for adoption, PM me for interest.

- B A S I C I N F O R M A T I O N -

Name: Whiterat
Name Meaning:
  White - When she was born, her entire pelt was pure white, though it has greyed with age.
Rat - given for her quick thinking and perserverance.
Past Name(s): Whitekit, Whitepaw
Nickname(s): Rat

Starting Date: 4/?/2018
Current Age: 9 years (108 moons)
  Starting Age: 9 years (108 Moons)

Physical Gender: Female
Gender Identity: Female
Voice:
Diana Rigg Example One (Olenna Tyrell)
Diana Rigg Example Two (Female narrorator @ beginning)

Theme Song(s):

Wait by the River - Lord Huron
Hurry Hurry - Air Traffic Controller
Organs - Of Monsters and Men
Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos
Forest Fires - Lauren Aquilina

- C L A N I N F O R M A T I O N -
Birth Clan: Lynx Clan
Current Clan: Lynx Clan
Rank: Warrior
Past Mentor: Tallwater
Apprentice: none
Past Apprentice(s): Batpaw (Currently known as Batnose)

              - S T A T S -
Level: 1

Path: ---

HP: 25/25
Dexterity: 12
Constitution: 5
Speed: 10
Stealth: 5
Charisma: 5
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 13

              - P H Y S I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N -
Body Type: Lithe and stringy, Whiterat's bones are brittle with age but her muscles are strong and she is extremely fit.
Fur Type: Soft and fine.
Fur Color: Grey and white.
Eye Color: Olive green.
Scars: A few from over the years, the worst of them being on her left hind leg - a reminder of when the rogues attacked.

Goals in Love:
None.

Goals in Life:
Become a mentor again ()
Prove that she is still a worthy warrior ()
Reconnect with her children ()

   - P E R S O N A L I T Y -
Positive
Neutral
Negative

|  Maternal |  Protective/Loyal |  Perceptive | Stubborn | Tenacious |  Critical | Inconsistent |  Begrudging |

Maternal:
Even before she gave birth to her own kits, Whiterat had a deep caring for children. She loves how the smile and their vigor for life. Due to extenuating circumstances, she was not very present in her own children's lives. She deeply regrets this, and acts as a mother to any who need it at the point in her life.

Protective/Loyal
Her entire being rests on this one unwavering trait. She cannot stand to see those she cares for hurt. If Whiterat were to ever double-cross someone, she would never be herself again. This came simply from the way she was brought up. When her mother told her that she was strong, it resonated with her that if she were strong, it was her job to protect the weak.

Perceptive:
White rat has lived a long life, and in this life she has learned to read the faces of others. While she can't read minds, those who know her very well would argue otherwise.

Stubborn:
Whiterat is the first to admit she is wrong when in fact she is - but the she-cat will not play dumb or wrong in a situation where she truly believes herself to be correct. She will not give up on a task until it is completely lost, and she will not let down until defeated. Her stubbornness has won her much, but lost her as well.

Tenacious:
"persisting in existence; not easily dispelled" is the basic definition of the trait, but for it to describe Whiterat one must go so much further. She wishes to exist as a legacy, one not forgotten, never useless, always unrelenting. In the twilight of her life, Whiterat feels there is reason to go on, and that she's destined to accomplish something before life abandons her elderly body.

Critical:
Although she generally means well, this is often seen as a negative trait in Whiterat. She wants the weak to be strong, and feels the best way to do that is to criticize the weaknesses the carry with them.

Inconsistent:
Aside from her loyalty, Whiterat hasn't always been the same cat. Her age hasn't helped her inconsistency either, and there are days when even she wonders if she should retire. It seems no one can really tell what the old girl is thinking- and basing any assumptions on her actions would be fools work.

Begrudging:
As if to mirror her loyal nature, rat hold a grudge for a long time. If one were to wrong her, it would be unlikely she ever forgive them, much less ever find trust in them. It is not to say that forgiveness in an impossible solution for the elderly warrior- but she won't sully her pride unless absolutely necessary.

Likes: Cool Summer days, cozy Winter nights, being listened too, figuring out others, seeing others improve, voles, family, apprentices, children
Dislikes: Rain, wind, toads, when others talk over her, talks of retirement, illogical argumentation, lies
Fears: Death, Not being needed

  - H I S T O R Y -
Kithood (0 - 5 Moons)
It was night when the small white shekit took her first breaths. Her eyes were tightly closed, and the world was just as black for her mother as it was for her. Most clan kittens are born in the safety of the nursery with a medicine cat to aide in their delivery, but Daisytooth was never one to do things the proper way. Among the other rumors that surrounded her, it was true that the father of her children was not her mate. The darkness was a friend to her in times as judging these and the dark cave seemed to be the safest place to birth the kittens that might look nothing like the cat she publically professed her love too. He would be worried, and something about that made Daisy happy. She liked to know how she was cared for as much as the next she-cat.

It was this night however she quietly regretted leaving the nursery in the middle of the night to be alone. The white she-kit was breathing - but the two black ones were not. No matter how she licked and rubbed their tiny bodies they would not mewl out as the first born did. Daisytooth cursed herself, sure she had made a grave mistake in order to protect her name. It was minutes later when one of the black kits gasped and let out a cry. Daisy tooth let out a cry of relief, laced with pain that she could not save them both. The warrior wrapped her body around their small bodies as the living began to suckle and let the night surround her like a blanket. Tonight she would find whatever comfort she could in the lives she had made, tomorrow she would burry the dead.

Despite being a rather young mother, Daisytooth raised her living children well. The male was slower than his brighter colored sister, and it pained her to hear the other mothers make jokes at his expense. She knew it was her fault that he was the way was - but he was alive and for that she could not complain. Daisytooth had named her children well, the male would be known as strongkit, and his sister whitekit. Strongkit followed his sister everywhere, and Daisytooth watched them grow with pride. Despite his name, there were whispers that strongkit would not be suited to a warrior life, and while future mentors looked at whitekit with longing, they often cringed at the thought of working with her brother who had proved to be a slow learner.

When it was finally time for the siblings to graduate and earn their mentors, whitekit was seen as the far superior choice, but her love for her brother did not waver.

Apprenticeship (6 - approx. 12 Moons)
Whitepaw entered apprenticeship unserendipitously and perfectly on time. The ceremony was short and a middleaged warrior known Tallwater became her mentor. Days spent in the training hollow started off short and exciting and as suns passed, it became long and tedious. Whitepaw and Strongpaw hardly saw eachother, and their training was almost to different from them to relate. Whitepaw missed her brother greatly and it frustrated her that someone born at the same time as her was not allowed to advance as quickly.

It was no suprise when Tallwater announced that Whitepaw would go on her first solo assignment that she demanded her brother be allowed to join her. Tallwater tried to convince her it was a bad idea, that Strongpaw needed more time to learn and that he would not hold her back for the sake of her sibling's feelings. Whitepaw exclaimed that she wouldn't be a warrior at all if she could not be one at her brothers side. She refused to train for the next few days after this. Instead she opted to take care of the elders and help around the camp. She made time for Strongpaw in these days and the two of them shared dreams of becoming great assets to their clan, and to make their ever loving mother proud.

Tallwater soon became impatient with his apprentice. She took every punishment he had handed out to her in stride, and they seemed not to bother her at all. She simply refused to train until Strongpaw caught up. It had been almost three weeks of constant struggle before he finally cracked under his own apprentices stubborn preassure. He figured fine, if she wanted to take her brother with her, he'd give her a simple assignment and let the dumb one accompany her.

Whitepaw and Strongpaw celebrated that day, knowing their first apprentice mission would take place as soon as the sun rose the next morning. The assignment was simple. Travel north towards Ravenclan territory. Be careful not to cross the territory line. Mark the Lynx clan territory line and return each with wetland prey as proof of their journey. The two apparentices should have returned by sunhigh - but things never go as planned.

Strongpaw had caught a well sized toad and Whitepaw a vole. She didn't quite think that counted as a wet land animal - but the creature sure smelled of it. They were feeling quite proud of themselves and were laughing and jumping as they made their way back to camp. They wondered if their mentors would allow them to train together now, and if perhaps they had proved they could become warriors at the same time together. They were about half way to camp, with the shadows long and the sun glinting off the nearby water when things took a turn for the worst. A small yelp and a splash and suddenly strong paw and his toad were chin eye in water that had not before appeared to be so deep. The bottomless hole had been something told about in stories to them as kits. They had shivered in their nests and had nightmares about the raw piece of nature when they were younger - but never had they dreamed in their apprenticeship it would pose an actual problem for their trained bodies.

A smarter cat might have let go of their prey and made their way to the edge and crawled out. A smarter cat might have known how to swim at all - but in the moment strongpaw became frozen. He had never been allowed near deep water before - never told what to do in a panicked situation like this. He was not a smarter cat, however, so instead his paws began to flail and his jaws tightened around the dead toad in his mouth. The weight sunk him down and Whitepaw screamed for help. She screamed for him to let go of the prey, she wailed for him to swim to the edge, but all the yelling in the world wouldn't save him. She dropped her own vole and jumped in as his head disappeared beneath the surface of the water. She felt her claws dig into his fur, and then her own teeth as she struggled to pull his much heavier weight up from the darkness the water created. It felt like entire minutes before Tallwater, and Strongpaw's mentor Featherflight appeared. Their strong warriors pulled his heavy body from the water and whitepaw swam up behind them, gasping for breath. She didn't know how they knew she had her brother needed help. She didn't stop to think that maybe they had been following the whole time - she only stared in horror as they tried to ressurect her brother from a watery grave.

When they returned to camp with his body, only Daisytooth felt a sudden sense of familiarity with the situation.

The rest of Whitepaw's apprenticeship passed quietly, with her mother whispering words of pain and hope in her ears at night. "Only the strong will survive" her mother said, "and you truly are strong" Something changed in her mother that day, just as something had changed in Whitepaw. She trained from that day forward not for herself - but for her brother who would never get to be the warrior they both dreamed of being.
Warriorhood (12 Moons - Current)

When she was finally named Whiterat, the she-cat thought it must be some kind of sick joke. There were sayings that it was impossible to drown a rat and she felt cold run through her body during the ceremony. She sat her vigil without complaint however, and swore she could feel her brothers body next to hers as she stood solo through out the night.

The first year of her life as a warrior was quiet, she grew and matured into a lady. While she still comtemplated the meaning of her name, it no longered sorrowed her as it once did. She had come to the conclusion over the year that Strongpaw would not of wanted her to mourn. He had never been the type to let the worst get to him. He would have poked fun at her dreary life outlook. Besides, clan politics had been merry and it seemed like there was nothing one should care about other than living life. She met a tom she liked and they contemplated making a life together. His name was Frostwick and the young Whiterat was conviced he must be the love of her life.

Of course, like a reccurring theme in her life, things never went as expected. With the turn of the season came a turn for the worst. Exactly eighty-four years before present time: the rogues attacked. Every warrior knew that the life came with risks, and if needed, you were expected to fight. The rogue wars hardened her and Frostwick, and the two cats grew appart as they fought. She found a pride in her work and he became cynical in the ways of the world. Still, Whiterat was determined to live the life her brother dreamed of.

It wasn't long after the rogues were defeated that Whiterat's mother made the announcement that she would be giving birth to another set of children. It was when they were born that Whiterat was convinced she had found her true calling in life. She visted her newborn siblings every morning before duties and every night before she finally fell into a sea of dreams. They consumed her entire being and she lived to care for them. When they finally came of age, she looked on with pride as they all recieved their graduated name. With the care that the white she-cat had put into her siblings life, it shouldn't have been a suprise when she was named Batpaw's mentor.

Still, the young warrior thanked her leader for the opportunity and looked to train her younger sister with all the love and care that she wished her brother had recieved. For Whiterat however, her caring came in the form of a harsh training regimen that would leave both she ahd her apprentice exhausted at the end of the day. She taught her younger sister everything she knew, from hunting to fighting, from climbing to swimming. There were nights when they would swim for hours, and roll out on the sand wet and tired. Other days they would climb their favorite tree as fast as they could and look upon the territories in awe. While Whiterat belived she made time for fun, as a mentor she would exhaust even the most active of apprentices. As she neared warriorhood, Batpaw began to run off and get herself into trouble. Whiterat found this exhaustive, and would angrily lash out at her sister and apprentice.

Weeks before Batpaw was scheduled to graduate - the flood happened.
Chaotic waves and unrelenting rain caused absolute havoc among the clan territories, and as the cats of the valley evacuated, Whiterat realized Batpaw was nowhere to be seen. A deep sense of dread filled the warrior's bones and for a moment she froze. Her paws locked up and her puils widened. She cursed the smaller black she-cat under her breath and turned from safety to find her.

Once the two she-cats returned to where the rest of their clan had found safety, a russet-colored tom came to great them.
"I know your name is rat- but I didn't think our leader meant a sewer rat!" he chimed with a smile that sparkled. Had it been anyone else, Whiterat would have bristled with offense, but something about his smile told her he meant no harm. Figuring Batpaw had enough lecturing on their journey to the clan, her mentor allowed herself a smirk and sly remark back. It was all the russet tom needed to know he would regret it forever if he did not properly introduce himself.

"Name's Stagthorn!"

From that day forward the two were inseperable, even training their apprentices together when they could. They were in love from the moment they saw eachother and there was freedom in eachothers company. Whiterat imagined the rest of her life next to Stagthorn, and he hoped the same of her. After Batpaw graduated and became a warrior, the lovers made their mateship official. Through clan disputes and prey shortages, the two grow together and nuture eachother. They seem to have a perfect relationships, and by the time Whiterat turned four years age, they had their first and only litter of kittens. As a grandmother, Daisytooth had a litter of her own, and Whiterat shared the nursery with her mother. After their kittens are born, Whiterat becomes restless, and often leaves Daisytooth to take care of her young so that she may attend to her own warrior duties.

The next two years passed with relatively little to talk about. Whiterat and Stagthorn's children grew from kittens to apprentices, and from apprentices to warriors. Having great pride in having raised to healthy children, Stagthorn asked Whiterat to carry a second litter, to which she refused. The she-cat had only turned greyer in raising two children, and she constantly feared for their safety. Daisytooth had passed away recently, and Whiterat couldn't possibly concieve having to go through child birth without her mother there to guide her again. She and Stagthorn fought, and as they aged they found they were more different than alike. Still, they stayed together and fought for eachother -hoping every day the spark that had ignited their relationship would burn once again.

Six moons ago, Stagthorn chose to retire. For this, Whiterat felt ashamed, but she still loved him. She was angry too, the clan was dealing with pressure from Raven Clan and their home needed every line of defense that it could muster. She knew the thought was selfish however, and figured only that she must now fight for the two of them. Whiterat had always been one to add more weight to her shoulders, but this was the first time that the pressure pained her.

A mere week after his retirement, Whiterat found herself attacked by a much younger, and stronger Ravenclan warrior. He was fully convinced that she was stealing his prey, though it was quite the opposite. She managed to win the fight for her skills were far superior, but not without gaining a new scar to her white shoulder. When she returned, Stagthorn was horrified. It seemed then the strain on their relationship was too much and he begged her the impossible. He pleaded that Whiterat retire with him. In that moment, blinded by shame and fury, she denied their mateship, ending it where it stood. The elderly warrior had always felt she must live the life of a warrior not only for herself, but for her brother. This was something Stag had known and she felt he simply did not understand that she must stay a Warrior till her last dying breath. When Stagthorn asked her to live a life of peace as an Elder with him, she only felt fire. She refused to accept that it was her time, and that Stag only wanted her to stay safe with him. This day was the last time they spoke.

As moons passed and Snakeclan formed, Whiterat felt a deep guilt. She still loved her ex-mate, but how could she face him after the things she had said? She would retire one day, this she knew, but it was just not her time. She felt she had so much more life to live before succumbing herself to life within the camp, doomed to bother apprentices for the rest of her life. As her friends passed on and preassure to retire came from other sources, Whiterat only aimed to become stronger. She helped new mentors with their apprentice training and ran on every patrol she could. Things began to feel normal again when she received the news: Stagthorn had died.

It was then the wall she had put up fell, and the struggles of her clan around her came crashing in. She had originally looked at the formation of Snakeclan as a good thing. Opening up new territory left more prey in the territories already occupied. Now as she walked through camp alone, she felt an impending sense of dread, friends of hers had left to join another clan, her mate was dead. Clan ties were weakening. Her very world was changing all too fast. Whiterat was alone.

Group History

As I RP!

              - R E L A T I O N S H I P S -
Orientation: Straight.
Availability: Not looking.
Ideal Relationship and Traits: none.
Crush: none.
Mate: none.
Ex-Mate(s): Stagthorn (deceased)
Offspring: 2 Children - should be warriors, PM me if you would like to make them!

LynxClan
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description

RavenClan
Exampleclaw | @ | Rank | - Relationship Description

SnakeClan
Exampleclaw | @ |  Rank | - Relationship Description

Non-Clan
Exampleclaw | @ |  Rank | - Relationship Description

          - R O L E P L A Y -

Example A (Small, Recent):

Moon mist and night dew sure looked beautiful, but Whiterat had not grown to see things romantically. In her age the she-cat found that the sparkling grass was more annoying than it was something to gaze at. It made her paws moist and she had to extend her claws with every step to keep from slipping. If that wasn't enough, the night fog clung to her fur and the elder warrior was sure the cold would eat right through her pelt and gnaw at her bones.

Despite the unpleasantness however, she trudged on. Occasionally the pale-coated warrior would stop and lift her nose to smell the air, and the mist would only reply with stuffing her nose, which she scrunched in vexed answer. Her apprentice had a habit of sneaking out at night, and usually she would be angry at the smaller she-cat. Tonight however Whiterat was only worried, the recent rainwater warned of flash floods, and the darkening sky was rightfully ominous. She would hate for the very cat she was grooming to become a warrior to be swept away like a fly in the wind.

She had just gone to lift her nose for a fifth time when a quick, quiet crunch sounded behind her. The old rat didn't turn however, if someone was sneaking up on her; Whiterat didn't want them to know that she knew. Instead she walked forward with the same confidence as before, not daring to glance behind her. Still she wondered, who might be so untrusting as to follow her into this good night?

Example B (Older):
docs.google.com/document/d/1hX…

Preferred Methods:
Google docs
Discord

I will not rp through notes or skype.