Tall in stature and with an equally eye-catching presence, Toadfeather is the sort of cat who is at once intimidating and reassuring. The patience in his eyes seems to convey: yes, I'll take care of this for you. Rely on me. It's an air he's all too happy to take advantage of when others give into it. Besides, he wants the best for RidgeClan, anyway.

Under his dense, striped fur Toadfeather is actually a little more slender than his clan mates. He doesn't lack for strength and his warm coat helps him blend in nicely, but there are distinctly broader cats roaming RidgeClan territory. The softness of his pelt betrays a fastidiousness he has when it comes to grooming: he likes to be clean, even if he won't be caught turning his nose up at getting his paws dirty.

kithood.

The rain drowned out the noise of Aspenfleck's labor, much to Crowscreech's relief. She knew her mate well - he was far too composed, too proud, to appreciate being overheard in a state of perceived weakness. He wouldn't understand that in this moment, she was certain she never knew a stronger cat. There was something beautiful about choosing to bring life into the world, becoming the family she knew he always longed for.

Usually, on a night like this, the sound of crickets and cicadas would fill the air. Instead, as if summoned by the rain, toads croaked low and persistent somewhere just outside of camp. That's what she focused on - the muted, rumbling calls of amphibians. Not the haggardness of Aspenfleck's breathing or the urgency in the medicine cat's tone as he directed his apprentice.

Finally, the medicine cat appeared before her. "StarClan blessed him, he's well," she was assured.

"Can I see him?"

"He needs to rest."

It was with only some irritation that she managed to bully her way into the den. These were her kits, too. She would see them.

They were magnificent. Two near identical striped kittens mewling at their father's belly, seeking milk and warmth that he looked just a little exhausted providing, given the strain on his face that was evident even in the darkness of the den.

"I wish you wouldn't see me like this," Aspenfleck said, tiredly.

Crowscreech smiled evenly in response. "You're beautiful like this, dear." He hummed, hiding his embarrassment, and she laughed, relieved that he was well, the kits were well, and everything was well. "They look the same," she commented, taking the pair of them in. So healthy looking!

Snorting, their mate said, "They've barely lived a breath. Of course they look the same."

"Have you considered names yet?"

"Not really."

She considered them in silence for a moment, and then said, "Toadkit?"

Aspenfleck blinked. "Toadkit?"

With another laugh, she said, "They're really going at it, out there. All the rain, I guess. And the one with the darker stripes kind of reminds me of that pattern you see on toads. Frogs, too, I guess."

Aspenfleck looked like he might be considering commenting that he didn't at all care about the difference between amphibians, but held his tongue. "Toadkit, then."

"You name the second."

"Lavenderkit."

She smiled, repeating the name. Toadkit and Lavenderkit.

Outside, the rain continued to pour.

-

Moons later, and Toadkit and Lavenderkit were curled up with semi-serious expressions, watching more rambunctious kits at play. With poorly masked concern, Aspenfleck said, "They're quiet."

With a touch of amusement, Crowscreech responded, "They're like you." It wasn't just their personalities - Toadkit and Lavenderkit looked far more like their father than their mother. "That's not a bad thing."

"Perhaps."

Toadkit, still facing the kits tumbling around them, pretended he couldn't hear them whispering as he got to his paws and joined in the roughhousing to earn his father's approval.

Lavenderkit stayed on the sidelines.

-

It was raining, which meant neither of them really had the energy to play. They weren't alone - the other kits in the nursery were curled up together too, falling asleep to the comforting sound of the weather outside. Today, it was Crowscreech who watched over them, and she fell asleep not long ago, also lulled into dreams.

Perhaps it was because of their unusual privacy, but Lavenderkit suddenly said, "He likes you more than me."

Toadkit frowned. "Dad?" Lavenderkit confirmed his suspicion with a little nod. Soon, they would be made apprentices, and this little nursery wouldn't be their whole world anymore. He knew this gave Lavenderkit much more anxiety than it gave him. He was eager for the chance to prove himself to the clan, where Lavenderkit seemed like they saw the challenge as daunting.

Lavenderkit was weak. But that was okay, because they had Toadkit to protect them.

"So what?" Toadkit asked. "I like you. It doesn't matter if our parents have favorites."

Because he knew mom liked Lavenderkit better than him, too.

After a moment of thought, Lavenderkit nodded again. "Yeah. It doesn't matter."

Satisfied, Toadkit curled up to join the den in slumber.

-

It didn't escape him that Aspenfleck often took him for strolls just outside of camp, and not Lavenderkit. The ground was getting colder as the seasons marched closer and closer to leaf-bare, but he still found himself trying to place his feet exactly as his father did. Steps too big for a little kit to yet fill, no matter how close he was to having a mentor.

The pair moved silently, every step they took muffled by the pine needles underfoot. Without the more frequent rains of greenleaf, it was starting to get a little prickly against his paws. Something Mushroompaw told him he'd grow accustomed to, when he mentioned it to the older warrior. He'd just have to believe that.

"I have dreams for this place," Aspenfleck said suddenly, breaking the peaceful quiet between them. Toadkit looked around them. He didn't ask, the woods? because he knew how foolish it would sound. His father continued. "RidgeClan. We could guide the clans - bring them closer to StarClan."

He thought of Lavenderkit, probably still curled up at his mother's side in the nursery. And his mother, a little crossly admitting that Aspenfleck could sometimes become a little too focused on his ambitions.

And he thought of the approval in his father's eyes every time he took a brave step forward.

"I have that dream, too," he said. 

Though his father likely knew he couldn't yet understand what he was saying, that approval flashed in his gaze against regardless.

"Come," he said, guiding him back along the trail to camp. "If we stray too far, your mother will worry."

-


apprenticeship.

"Don't be nervous," was the first thing he said to Lavenderkit on the morning of their naming ceremony.

"I'm not nervous," was the only thing his sibling said to him the remainder of the time Crowscreech spent fussing over them. 

Toadkit wasn't worried. Lavenderkit needed him, they'd always come back.

-

Of course Lavenderkit warmed up by his side as they sat patiently under the leader's gaze.

-

"Your mentor will be Eveningstep."

The sturdy dark tom came forward, expression a perplexing combination of thoughtful and indifferent, large enough to seem as if he really did step into evening with the shadow he cast. Toadkit - now Toadpaw - never one to be intimidated, greeted him as if they were equals.

Apparently unsatisfied, Eveningstep looked away from him to share an expression with the leader that he couldn't read.

"I expect," the leader continued as if answering an unspoken question, "you to pass on all you know to Toadpaw."

Dutifully, they touched noses.

-

"Again."

Eveningstep's low, cold voice rumbled through the clearing. Toadpaw nearly hissed, going into a hunting crouch for what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon. It should have been cold, frost covered the ground and the low branches of the trees surrounding them, but he was heated from the relentlessly boring work his mentor had him doing.

"Again."

More than a thousand times. There's no way the big ol' tom didn't notice his very visible irritation.

"Again."

"Why?" he snapped, whirling around to face him. "I'm doing it perfectly. No mouse will see me coming. Lavenderpaw's been out hunting for a week already, why won't you let me?"

For a moment, he thought it was possible, even likely, that Eveningstep wasn't going to answer him. In a flash of anger, he could even imagine lunging at his mentor. Digging his claws in. Anything to get a reaction from him.

And then Eveningstep said, "You believe you are better than your sibling."

He sat back on his haunches. "That's not true." Eveningstep raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Maybe I am better than Lavenderpaw."

"Or maybe you're a spoiled brat and not worth the time I'm putting into training you."

There was no logic in the way he leapt at Eveningstep, tangling his claws in his fur but unable to get a grip as he was mercilessly batted to the side. Like an annoying insect, a pest, who just happened to get in his way. Shaken but uninjured, he got his paws again with a glare.

Not addressing their altercation at all, Eveningstep said, "You stand too heavily on your left side. A mouse will not see you coming, no. It will feel you. Even with the pine as cushioning." Self consciously, he shifted off his left side. "You will be better than your sibling - you'll likely be among the best. Not by recklessly cementing poor learning too early, but by letting me teach you how I see fit."

A pause fell between them as Toadpaw processed the most words he'd heard from his mentor at once and his mentor got up to stretch. Then, Eveningstep said, "Isn't that what you'd prefer?"

"Yes."

"Good. Again."

For the millionth time he got into a hunting crouch.

-

Eveningstep was right. By the time he was out in the forest, whole days later than the other apprentices, he gained a reputation for never missing a hunt.

It wasn't quite true. Everyone experienced a bird taking to the sky too quickly to subdue or a rabbit slipping into a too-tight hole at the last moment. But if one of his cohort brought back one mouse, he brought back two, and if one caught a rabbit, than the one he caught was bigger and supplied more strength to the clan.

It was something he had in common with his mother, who otherwise always felt so distant from him. She glided into the forest like she embodied the essence of hunting itself, where Aspenfleck, quieter and sturdier, was better built for taking hits and keeping a defensive position for his clan mates.

That defensive position is what ultimately saved Lavenderpaw's life, when a badger snuck up on them while they was out training with their mentor.

Eveningstep was right about that, too. Lavenderpaw leapt to their training too quickly, developed too many subpar habits, and now they would spend the next moon at least recovering from an infected wound in the medicine cat den.

There was satisfaction in being right.

-

The medicine cat den was not as well stocked as it could have been. Not that Toadpaw was an expert, but he knew the chill would kill the herbs that they relied on and the extra stores couldn't remain fresh endlessly. Still, it smelled musty, like dried or decaying plants, and sickly sweet from whatever salve was applied to Lavender's wounds. Even covered in cobweb, they looked a little gnarly, if he was being honest.

He wouldn't be honest to Lavenderpaw, who looked so drained already. Looking into eyes so similar to his own, he said, "I'll catch you a rabbit when you can eat again. The biggest one I can find."

Lavenderpaw managed a small smile. It looked like moving their chest, their ribs, might be difficult - so speaking might be difficult. Even with the distance training demanded of them, he knew his sibling well enough that they didn't need to speak for Toadpaw to understand them. Even if they never spoke again, Toadpaw would understand them.

"You're so strong, Lavenderpaw. You're going to heal in no time." He didn't believe that, not sincerely. And Lavenderpaw might even know that. But still, the siblings curled up together, the comforted and the supporter.

With a quiet rasp, Lavenderpaw said, "Don't let mom see yet."

An easy promise. "Of course. She'll come only when you're ready."

That settled, Lavenderpaw finally fell asleep, drifting off immediately like they'd just been waiting for Toadpaw to watch over them before doing so. 

-

"You should know," the medicine cat said softly as he stood to leave, "your sibling likely will not recover quickly."

"I worried as much."

"You will be named warrior before him."

Of course he would. That sounded right, to his ears. "I understand."

With a nod, the medicine cat let him go.

-

Eveningstep was not nearly as foreboding as he seemed when Toadpaw was only six moons old, trying to win the approval of a stoic older cat who couldn't seem to be bothered with him. His laugh was quiet, but so warm, as he welcomed his apprentice into his fold of senior warriors, high ranking cats whose footsteps he would follow, much as he once followed his father's.

He wasn't used to being this social. Quiet by nature, it took him time to find his place socially among Eveningstep's friends.

Even more boisterous was Morninglight, his mentor's closest companion. On the first day they were introduced as anything more than distant clan mates, Morninglight leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "Tough guy's not going too hard on you, is he?"

Eveningstep, who was of course intended to hear, tutted in mock disapproval. "Don't let him fool you into thinking he's your ally. Morninglight just wants gossip."

"Hey!" Morninglight laughed, a sound so free and joyful that Toadpaw smiled too, "I can be an ally and want gossip."

Eveningstep nuzzled his head and in that moment, they reminded Toadpaw so much of his parents that he went to see them later, relieved to find that they were just as comfortable together as when he was little, despite whatever disagreements they were having before.

"I saw Lavenderpaw," Crowscreech admitted a little somberly. But with a smile, she added, "I'm pleased you're taking care of them."

With more faith than anything else he ever believed, he said, "I'll always take care of them."

-

"No, Eveningstep is right," Morninglight said, giving him an assessing once-over. "You're built like a fox, not a boulder."

"Those aren't comparable objects," Eveningstep noted quietly, but let his partner take over.

Toadpaw, meanwhile, let out an offended huff. It was too early in the morning to be insulted like this. And it was too early in the morning to have bruises on his shoulder from being knocked to the ground so many times. He didn't think he was a poor fighter, but then, tussling with his den mates, most of whom weren't distinctly larger than him, wasn't the same as fighting a full grown warrior. Not a dense one like Eveningstep.

"Don't worry," Morninglight said with a sly grin. "I've got some tips and tricks for taking down bigger foes."

By the end of the day, he couldn't knock down Eveningstep, but he at least wasn't sent to the ground at such a high frequency.

-

By the next full moon he could even make Eveningstep stumble.

-

"I was worried about him," Eveningstep admitted steadily as he and Morninglight watched him direct the other apprentices' hunting practice. At his side, Morninglight was purring away, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon sun and the newfound lack of responsibility as his own apprentice was recently named. Their gaze flicked over at his and then back to Toadpaw, now demonstrating the better technique for sneaking up on a bird.

"Because he's like Aspenfleck?"

Eveningstep snorted. "Because he's like Crowscreech." Morninglight made an intrigued sound, but he didn't explain further, joining the apprentices as they wandered further into the forest so they'd still have a warrior's eyes on them. Toadpaw may enjoy teaching, but at ten moons old, he was not yet an adult and couldn't be responsible for his den mates.

-

Somewhere at camp, Crowscreech sneezed and mumbled, "Someone's talking about me."

-

The pride he felt at being named a moon early was insurmountable. It felt as if he was glowing with it, as his new name, Toadfeather, was spoken across camp and he settled down for his night-long silent vigil. He could see it on his parents, too, the glow of pride, and on his mentor and Morninglight, the other apprentices, the leader. He'd made them proud.

He could feel his sibling's eyes burning into his pelt.

-

warrior.

As much as Lavenderpaw seemed hurt that Toadfeather not only didn't wait for their recovery, but was named early, all was resolved when Lavenderpaw was named Lavendergaze a few moons later - scarred, but recovered.

Toadfeather was the first to mentor an apprentice, a sensitive young she-cat with admirable family relations who only needed a little pushing and direction to channel her abilities productively. A couple moons later, Lavendergaze joined him with an apprentice of their own. Together, but Toadfeather was always first. 

As Toadfeather's own sense of superiority grew, so did Ridgeclan's. And not necessarily in a manner he agreed with.

Wolfstar was arrogant. Short-sighted. Of course RidgeClan was superior to the other clans - anyone could see that. StarClan could see that. But to provoke their neighbors was senseless. They needn't wage war to prove their status to the other clans. They already were superior. It was a step backwards to resort to Wolfstar's measures.

But his voice did not ring louder than the leader's.

-

He would never be spoken over again.

-

It wasn't a battle he believed in, but he still threw himself at the first MistClan cat he saw. His loyalties were to Lavendergaze, Eveningstep, and RidgeClan - and all were present for this fight. He sank his claws into each enemy warrior he crossed paths with, but each time they stilled beneath him, submitting, he let them up to go handle their wounds. He would not break the warrior code by needlessly taking life for Wolfstar's war.

Not all had the same resolve.

Across the field, Morninglight wailed not in pain, but anguish, as Eveningstep's body stilled.

-

Wolfstar was discovered dead later.

-

That death followed him.

He shouldn't have died. He was not the leader Toadfeather wanted for RidgeClan, but he didn't disagree with the spirit of his beliefs. And he was the leader. StarClan granted him nine lives. To his knowledge, Wolfstar did not lose all nine of them in that fight. He couldn't have.

So what in the name of silverpelt happened? It plagued him.

But it wasn't the only thing he had to focus on. RidgeClan needed resuscitation.

-

deputy.

He wasn't expecting Mushroomstar to name him deputy, but in retrospect, he was a logical choice. His own sympathies with Wolfstar were drowned out by his dissatisfaction with the manner in which the previous leader carried out his beliefs and he carried a strong reputation in the clan. He liked being the sort of cat who could be relied upon when times were hard. And he didn't intend to just rest on his laurels, either. He would rebuild, help them find greater purpose, and influence the future relationships that RidgeClan had with PrairieClan and MistClan.

Those were his ideals, anyway. In the moment, he felt as if his primary role was to subdue Mushroomstar's emotions, remove his stressors where he could, and make sure their borders were safe without patrolling being seen as another act of aggression. Everything he did to keep the peace during the first tumultuous moons was intentional. He didn't mind if he was the only one who noticed.

His only regret was that becoming the deputy took nearly all of his time away from Lavendergaze.

-

"I intend to step down," Sootwhisker said. A confession. A sentencing. Toadfeather kept his emotions under the surface well, but he couldn't prevent the irritated thrash of his tail.

They all understood the implication. Rainstorm would become the sole medicine cat of RidgeClan.

"She's only eighteen moons old," he said between gritted teeth.

"She's capable -"

"It's not a question of how capable she is," he snapped, no longer concealing his thoughts. It was cowardly to make such a young cat take on such a responsibility. She wouldn't even have the oracle to rely on.

Sootwhisker remained firm. "I can't do this, Toadfeather."

Slinking past him to walk off his anger, he said, "You're right. You can't," and disappeared into the night.

-

Rainstorm was so young. How she was meant to carry the clan in this time of rebuilding was beyond him, even with Sootwhisker assuring everyone that he would still be there for guidance. 

"If you need anything at all," he said, just a touch condescending, "don't hesitate to ask."

The young medicine cat smiled brightly, but he could see the tension she carried under her new responsibilities.

-

Mushroomstar lost his first life too soon.

He sat beside his leader, watching the almost unnatural rise and fall of his chest after a wound that would have undoubtedly killed a warrior who was not touched by StarClan, and thought of his mentor. He hoped he was watching them fondly, from among the stars.

-

With some sense of things "settling," Toadfeather now turns his gaze inward in his search for Wolfstar's killer within RidgeClan's borders. Peace cannot be truly found when a murderer lives among them.

Pre-Plotting: While Toadfeather never disagreed with the heart of Wolfstar's beliefs, he was always opposed to waging war and creating conflict with their neighboring clans. There are better ways of establishing one's superiority than encouraging hatred of their clan. While his own vision of RidgeClan's future may never come to light, he is at least interesting in steering the rebuilding of his clan, and prefers not to allow PrairieClan and MistClan to see their weaknesses in the meantime. To that end, he falls more into the Mars view. 

Additionally, Toadfeather holds to the warrior code strongly. Whoever was responsible for Wolfstar's death, no matter their beliefs or the outcome, should be discovered, both for the safety of the clan and to keep to StarClan's standards. He holds the role of the Asteroid from the plot ad.

Familiar with Mushroomstar, patient, and holding the clan's best interest at heart, Toadfeather was in many ways a natural choice for deputy. His sympathy to the previous followers of Wolfstar only made him a more unifying force post conflict with MistClan. 

Plotter | Tracker

Family: Toadfeather has a deep, almost co-dependent bond with his brother, Lavenderpelt, complicated by the air of superiority he feels toward him. 
 
Friends: Though not in agreement about the extent to which RidgeClan should or shouldn't cooperate with other clans, many of Toadfeather's friends are those who are opposed to the decisions Wolfstar made. As a friend, he's patient, practical, and attentive, and prefers other warriors who appreciate his time and energy and/or are equally skilled.

Romance: Though he's had crushes in the past, he's often been too ambitious and duty focused to truly consider a relationship. Maybe that will change in the future, should the right cat come along.

Rivals: Whoever killed Wolfstar. The sort of cats who cause problems or trouble or can't seem to keep less agreeable opinions to themselves. Cats who are as arrogant as him but without the merit to justify it. 

it burns through me: wanted ad for Toadfeather's family and a love interest.