Ever since she was a kit, Smallbreeze has been notably smaller than her peers. Her longer fur does try and help make her appear more sizable a foe, but even then the truth is easy to see.

She is thin, but not sickly so, most of her musculature is set in her forepaws and chest from constant digging. Where once her moves were elegant and languid, her stride is now more purposefully clipped, and her movements sharper-edged with age asserting them as purely utilitarian.

Her coloring aids in concealing her age well. When not covered in a layer of dirt and dust, white covers the majority of her pelt throughout her body, legs and paws. Only ever interrupted by light and dark brown splotches on her face and neck that adorn her in a crown and the full length of her tail, the former of which boasting a tabby pattern.

The she-cat's most identifying features are her warm honey-colored eyes and long kinky whiskers that help her navigate the world both above and below ground with superb precision.

Her earliest memories are curling into her mother's belly, shivering as Honeysong wrapped her tail around Smallkit and her sibling Rootkit. Born on the cusp of leaf-fall and leaf-bare, the kits were at a natural disadvantage going into the colder months, but Smallkit especially so. Honeysong was an older first time queen than the rest, but that bothered her none. She and her partners had wanted a family and she was simply glad that her kitting had gone off without complication despite the medicine cat's warnings.

Three other forms often visited her and Rootkit in the nursery, and each of their scents were comforting ones, especially as leaf-bare rolled around. She might have had one mother and biological father, but she had four parents, which meant between them, her littlermate, and the other kits and queens of the nursery, she always had someone to toddle after.

Smallkit was a rather quiet kitten, a simple keeper, but not necessarily due to any underlying shyness. As she grew, even other kits nearer her age were hesitant to be as rough as they would with other kits in their games. But Smallkit was tenacious, not letting her peers discount her for her size. She was every bit as capable. There was even talk that perhaps her apprentice ceremony should be held off for a moon for her to grow a bit more, but Smallkit petitioned the leader herself, insisting that she be named with her littermate. If she was small, she was small, there was no use holding her back because of it.

As Smallkit became Smallpaw, she was given the mentor Eagletalon - a hardy and hot-headed, for a Prairieclanner, warrior. Perhaps the move was made to teach Eagletalon to have more patience and a softer paw, but instead Smallpaw ran with their enthusiasm, ecstatic that she did not treat her any differently because of her size. She wasn't babied or spared hard training, even if some of her mentor's friends obviously questioned the she-cat's teaching methods.

It was Eagletalon that taught her to stick up for herself, to know her limitations but to not let them be discouraging. She talked her up, but didn't inflate her ego. Eventually the other apprentices invited Smallpaw to spar with them, forgetting their earlier bias of treating her like a delicate flower. Rootpaw certainly helped in their own way - advocating for their sister and trading training moves that their mentor taught them.

At her warrior ceremony she was named Smalltuft for her tufted ears and while some of her friends teased her for that 'for all her hard work she had only gotten a "generic" name', Smalltuft was just proud to be named a warrior the same time as Rootthorn.

Smalltuft and Rootthorn grew more distant as they grew older, but there was little malice behind it. Smalltuft was simply more of an energetic and vocal cat than her more conservative sibling and they had different friend groups because of it. They'd still make time to share a patrol or tongues every moon even if they weren't as close as they were as kits.

While many of the warriors she was named with were already finding mates and having kits of their own, Smalltuft threw herself into warrior work. She loved the rush hunting gave her and frequent patrols curbed her wanderlust to explore all of Prairieclan's territory. Brightfern could often count on her to fill in on patrols when other clanmates fell ill or were needed elsewhere.

Any cats she did share a nest with were within very casual romantic partnerships, neither party settling with just one another.

Then Oakshade came along. They were the first cat that she had had to make notice her. She would flirt, and he would simply carry on as if she weren't trying to work her charms on him. He was older by twelve moons or so, and she stayed awake at night wondering if perhaps he simply did not care for her the way she wanted them too and did not know how to let her down.

Getting nowhere, a bit heartbroken, she gave up on actively pursuing their affections, but also distanced herself from other cats showing interest in her. She told herself it was his loss, but internally she was quite distressed about it.

Eagletalon noticed her former apprentice's glum mood, and suggested that she be one of the keepers during this year's stag hunt. Thrilled with the suggested distraction, she agreed.

She knew all of the jobs had risks, but when her bite wasn't secure enough in the deer's flesh, the running animal flug her off of itself, and the she-cat hit hard against the forest floor. The medicine cat along that part of the path was called before Smalltuft was escorted back to Prairieclan's camp. Her injuries weren't devastating, but her side was heavily bruised and it was harder for her to breathe after even short lengths of activity.

She was put on bedrest, under strict supervision of their medicine cat. No hunting, no sparing, no running, no jumping, no fun. Her family visited her as she recovered, even Rootthorn would come to give her the gossip of the day so she wouldn't feel left out. But it still felt incredibly isolating to be stuck in camp all day like a kit.

After the initial flurry of worry passed on, her visitors became fewer as her family returned to their duties. But every morning without fail she'd wake up to a piece of fresh-kill placed against her nest. It most certainly hadn't been the medicine cat. So in order to find who it was, she forced herself to stay half awake, feigning sleep till the sound of purposeful pawsteps toward the medicine den caught her attention.

She had caught him red-pawed, Oakshade, eclipsing the dawn light of the medicine den.

So he did care for her.

Excitement rushed through her, but she had to temper her feelings, obviously they weren't as open with their emotions as she was - and she did not want to scare him off.

As her bruised rib cage healed and she was permitted to go on patrols again, she found a way to join Oakshade on theirs. Slowly, very slowly, she began revealing that she knew he had been the one delivering her fresh-kill when she was in sickleave…even though she was perfectly capable of walking to the pile on her own.

Once confronted, he was obviously flustered, his mouth silent but his eyes conveying the inner confusion of how to navigate romantic feelings in general. But he did seem to slowly show more boldness around her. Almost as if he was trying to court her, but she really didn't need much convincing. Still, it felt wonderful to feel singled out and noticed positively by someone she deeply cared about

When a badger attack put him in the medicine cat den, Smalltuft was quick to return the favor and spend her nights by their side. They hadn't put a label on their relationship, but the clan had certainly been whispering about it. Some queens even took bets amongst themselves as to how long it might be before Smalltuft was in the nursery. But in truth, she was terrified of the concept of motherhood. She wanted to be a warrior, not a queen, and Oakshade never pressed the issue one way or another, simply content to spend their nights in the same nest.

Finally, she talked to Honeysong about the issue. Confessing her worries to her own mother eased some of her trepidations. Being a queen did not mean giving up being a warrior, but simply becoming a warrior of a different kind.

She had made her decision.

Oakshade was supportive, perhaps even excited to be a father. Their parents had died when he was a child, the only kit of their litter. He had no great experience with family like she did, but that made them all the more enthusiastic about having their own.

Smalltuft did not particularly like pregnancy. The beginning moon wasn't terribly different from ordinary life, but as the time grew closer for her to be expected to retire to the nursery, she found excuses to prolong it as long as possible until the medicine cat and deputy teamed up to forbid her from going out on any more full patrols.

Her mate was more of a nester than she was, decorating her spot in the nursery with sweet smelling flowers and comfortable mosses. She had to admit it was nice to be off her paws as her belly grew, but she could not help but sometimes feel "lazy" for it.

Her delivery was uneventful, her mother calming Oakshade's pacing outside the nursery as Smalltuft could smell his fear-scent from within. He all but tripped into the den when the medicine cat let them in to see their kits. Who after much deliberation between the two of them were named Harekit, Goosekit & Dandelionkit. Three strong kits. Three handsome sons.

She had never seen newborn kits before, and to imagine herself at one point being even smaller than them was baffling. Doubts entered her mind of if she could be as good a mother to her kits as Honeysong was to her surfaced in her mind frequently, but she managed to manage with Oakshade's help.

As her kits grew to apprentices, she couldn't be more proud. Harepaw and Dandelionpaw were a bit more reserved like their father, but Goosepaw reminded her of herself as an apprentice - full of moxy.

She wasn't expecting it when his mentor carried Goosepaw's body into camp. Upon returning from a hunting patrol, three apprentices were collecting their caches when a starving bobcat ambushed them. Goosepaw gave his life to let the other apprentices get away. Though by the time they could mobilize their mentors, it was too late. Goosepaw was gone. He was buried as Gooseheart, so he could be greeted by Starclan as a true warrior, but that did little to console Smalltuft. She was both proud of her young son's bravery, and wondered deep within if she caused this by being too brash an example. Oakshade assured her that that was not the case. But Smalltuft thought it might be time for a career change. While the tunnels were far from safe, they could be safer. What if something happened to her or Oakshade, who would be there for their kits then? The clan, surely, but that was besides the point.

Expressing to Turtlestar her desire to specialize in tunneling, she shadowed Weaselfoot, a sagious tunneler and rather eccentric personality. Smalltuft took to her tunneler training just as earnestly as she had her warrior training, and by the end of the next year she had become such a successful and well known tunneler that she was granted the suffix -breeze, an elite amongst her clan.

Life was content for a while.

However, several leaf-bares ago, tragedy stuck Prairieclan on a grand level. A greencough epidemic swept through the camp. Both her son Dandelionsplash and mate Oakshade succumbed to the illness. Smallbreeze was devastated. She refused to eat, thrown in a deep depression at the losses. She wasn't the only one in the clan grieving, but that perhaps made it harder. Encouraged by her remaining son to find hope to stay with him to help support him trying for a new family with his new mate - she ghosted through the next few months.

Smallbreeze was there to support her son's mate through her kittening, another three strong kits. Smallbreeze was quick to spoil them when Sprucestripe and Hareflight weren't looking. The three kits made her feel young again as she bounced after them, teaching them the champion mossball moves she had used to hold the current nursery record.

Eventually the clan started to recover, and Smallbreeze took a more active role in the clan, throwing herself back into work to cope. Littlestar was a new leader in a turbulent time, and while she hadn't trusted the Ridgeclan refugee in the beginning, she had come to support Turtlebreeze's decision even when whispers of nepotism ran about the clan. She was young, she made mistakes, but she was genuine and open to dialogue with her clanmates and Smallbreeze enjoyed that.

But it seemed her son too was destined to lose a child far too young.

Her old apprentice Deerflight had informed her that Wasppaw had been taken by an eagle while out hunting with Newtpaw and Wasppaw's mentor. Smallbreeze did not have time to mourn as Deerflight asked her to help them find her remaining granddaughter, who had made it into the tunnels in time, but now couldn't be located.

Wordlessly, for the next hour and a half Smallbreeze searched the tunnels for her granddaughter, following her increasing fear-scent until she found the small ball of fur in one of the auxiliary tunnels. She couldn't tell her about her sister, not now. Instead she nuzzled behind the apprentice's ear, slowly encouraging her to the surface, offering her tail to hang onto should Newtpaw feel the need for extra security.

Back at camp the remainder of her family were crushed. Warriors came to offer condolences to Hareflight and Sprucestripe, but she knew from personal experience that that meant very little. At least Smallbreeze and Oakshade had had a body to bury.

She was there for her son, but both Hareflight and Deerflight were starting to become concerned about Newtpaw's reaction to it all. She was already a shy cat, but now she was even more skittish, especially on the surface. It was obvious she felt safer in the tunnels, and Smallbreeze often supplemented her with tunneler training to try and boost her confidence. Using some of the same tactics Eagletalon used on her - teaching her to be aware of her limitations within the tunnels but to not let them hinder her. That there were other senses besides the more accessible sight and that she should eagerly use them.

She tried to support Deerflight when it came to bringing Newtpaw above ground, but the she-cat had Smallbreeze's stubborn blood and it was still a struggle to do so.

Eventually both of Smallbreeze's remaining grandchildren were given their warrior names, and as Newtnose joined the brotherhood of tunnelers, the two of them became even more close. She could tell her father was still concerned, and even her brother had distanced himself from the new tunneler. But Smallbreeze did not think Newtnose's paranoia was as crippling or strange as they thought it to be. She had every right to prefer to be underground as they did to be above it. She was serving her clan with her strengths, no one should be upset about that.

Smallbreeze was a supporter of Littlestar's preemptive militarization of Prairieclan. Just because they were peaceful, did not mean they were weak. If Ridgeclan went after Mistclan and succeeded, they would surely be next. There was no doubt in her mind.

She organized the other tunnelers, making sure their network was secure so that they might be able to move a large force under the prairie should they need to mobilize.

Despite her creeping age, Smallbreeze was one to take part in the war Wolfstar started. Securing one of the tunnel exits the Prairieclanners were sending reinforcements through and covering injured cats as they sought refuge in the tunnels and their medicine cat that ran back and forth to offer aid in the field. It was forbidden to attack a medicine cat, but Ridgeclan had become violently radicalized, who was to say what code they followed now?

Smallbreeze came out of the battle alive, but not unscathed, and Rootthorn had become one of dozens of casualties on every side.

The last of her generation, Smallbreeze has become a bit jaded after the battle. While not opposed to friendship with Mistclan and healing rifts with Ridgeclan, she feels that it is better for Prairieclan to stick to solving their own troubles for now, especially as clanless anti-clan rogues have begun bunkering in their territory.

She now dedicates most of her time to maintaining Prairieclan's tunnels, fighting Anti-Tunnel sentiments and monitoring the outside political climate between the clans and clanless. With some cats questioning whether they should continue the practice of tunneling, Smallbreeze feels her way of life is being threatened. The tunnels are invaluable to Prairieclan, providing shelter and stealth in anotherwise vulnerable moor landscape, warmth in leaf-bare and many other boons. While she can see and sympathize how some cats cite their dangers, she will openly call anyone out on their foolish thinking to abandon their traditions and whole way of life for a more dangerous one completely lived above ground.

Pre-Plotting: Smallbreeze is from Newtnose's wanted ad HERE. She aligns with the heather belief. While she accepts those outsiders or refugees who want to join to join Prairieclan with open - enough - arms, she thinks Praireclan should focus on healing their clan from within before they overextend themselves solving the worlds ails and the other clans take advantage of that kindness.

▪ Family: Smallbreeze is a very family-oriented feline. Her blood relations often see a softer side of her that few others in the clan get to see. She tries not to play favorites amongst her grandchildren, but she is closer to Newtnose because of their shared tunneler duties. She is extremely protective of her remaining family and would gladly lay down her life to protect them.
▪ Friends: It isn't terribly hard to befriend the tunneler, but she is a rough sort to keep being close friends with unless you are understanding of her sometimes gruff and distant demeanor. That being said she is a loyal companion to those she lets in her circle.
▪ Romance: She views Oakshade as the love of her life and soul-mate. Smallbreeze can't currently fathom holding a romantic connection with another cat while Oakshade waits for her in Starclan.
▪ Rivals: Smallbreeze has surely rub some cats the wrong way, in Prairieclan or outside of it. She isn't actively looking to accumulate rivalries, but she also does not care if other cats are offended by what harsh truths she has to say.

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