Kithood (cw for kit death) Born in early spring as the ground thaws and buds begin to open, the outlook for Nettlekit and her siblings seemed better than kits born in previous moons. However, the litter had come earlier than expected, and were thus runty and sickly. Nettlekit had two brothers whom she does not remember at all, both passing before she could recognize their existence. Her parents, Thistletalon and Doveface, poured the love meant for three all into Nettlekit, giving their firstborn and sole survivor a bit of an ego.

Nettlekit was never much of a napper or listener, often attempting to slip from her careful mother's side to play with the older kits. Doveface was worried the bigger ones might be too rough, but all her reservations made Nettlekit more insistent she match her denmates. If anything, she was the one that was too much. The little kit always had something to prove.

Thankfully, at least some of the kits didn't mind Nettlekit's propensity to rowdiness. She made fast friends with Minkkit and Littlekit, the pair only a moon older than she, and neither minded the younger kit tagging along. Despite her attempts to befriend Cinderkit, Dapplekit, and Turtlekit—the trio of tortoiseshell sisters—she struggled to keep up with them and the older litter found Nettlekit a little... grating.

One of her most clear memories from her kithood was of one of the elder's visits to tell the nursery tales of old. Nettlekit notoriously was a bother for storytime, not having the patience to sit through them. And today that habit came back to bite her. Cinderkit, the oldest kit in the nursery, walked right up to her and began to tell her off.

Now what Nettlekit knew of Cinderkit was that she thought she was the best and had to be listened to because she was the oldest or whatever. She had siblings, and was big and strong, all the things Nettlekit wanted to have and to be. Knowing all that, she stuck her chin out and scoffed at the command. Nettlekit remembers the look on Cinderkit's face clear as day, all these moons later.

And then half a second later, she remembered being tackled by the older tortoiseshell and feeling a sting across her nose. The elder telling the story stepped in before Nettlekit could get a swipe in edgewise, which she wasn't too pleased about. Furthermore, he insisted she go to the medicine cat for her tiny scrape of a wound. Cinderkit barely hurt her more than a blade of grass would! Her claws were softer than the moss that lined her nest!

No matter, the healer patched her miniature wound and set her up to rest for the afternoon. Nettlekit was already plotting her escape when she heard the patter of paws enter the medicine den. Cinderkit?! What's she doing here? Nettlekit had expected her worried mother, not having to listen to Cinderkit's apology. What, so she thinks she can just push me around and expect me to forgive her? Fat chance.

Nettlekit refused to accept Cinderkit's apology, no matter what the other kitten attempted to negotiate. In the end, the tortoiseshell stormed off, saying she'd just tell everyone the apology was accepted. Nettlekit called after her, what a liar she was, but Cinderkit was already gone. She felt a swelling of pride in her chest, since even though she hadn't gotten to claw Cinderkit in her silly face, she had won in the end. The other kitten couldn't control her. And she never would.

Apprenticehood With all her friends apprenticed before her, Nettlekit's final moon in the nursery was practically torture. She didn't want to play with any of the little kits, and often begged her parents to take her out on patrols with them. They always told her to be patient, which would lead to her trying to sneak out. Key word trying. All her plans were foiled, and it was a wonder she was apprenticed at six moons. Likely because being held back would have only made her behavior worse.

Thistletalon wants his daughter to become a tunneler like he and her mother are, but after showing Nettlepaw the entrance of the tunnels, it is clear they make her uncomfortable. She prefers the open sky to the dark, cramped tunnels. She wants to be able to run. Doveface is encouraging of whatever her kitten wants to do. And though she doesn't realize it then, this seeds a rift between Nettlepaw and her father.

The spunky young molly is apprenticed to an older, no-nonsense tom named Heronflight. He is a skilled warrior, which means Nettlepaw is thankfully more likely to follow his authority. Good for both him and her, he manages to weather and calm her temper. She is a challenge Heronflight is willing to take on, and he knows with the proper guidance, Nettlepaw will become the warrior every apprentice hopes to be.

But that path is not without its hiccups. The rivalry that began in the nursery continued as soon as Nettlepaw caught up to Cinderpaw in the apprentice's den. Though the older cat would have been happy to put the past aside, Nettlepaw was not one to forgive and forget, and continued to needle the tortoiseshell whenever possible. Their distaste for one another is kept mostly under control by careful mentors until an unknowing warrior mistakenly pairs them together for sparring.

At the first opportunity, Nettepaw strikes Cinderpaw right down the side. Claws unsheathed, blood drawn, a dirty move not at all related to their training. But Nettlepaw's bitten off more than she can chew, and the weight of the tortie's body slamming her to the ground is the last thing she remembers before the world goes black.

She wakes up in the medicine den with a goose egg on the back of her head. Cinderpaw's tackle had made her collide with a rock, knocking her out cold. After many questions from the medicine cat, she is given a clean bill of health, but sent to rest in the apprentice's den for the rest of the day. Nettlepaw finds herself waiting for Cinderpaw to come apologize again, like she did the last time. But the tortie never comes, at least not before Nettlepaw falls asleep.

From then on she is granted only glimpses of her rival, who has taken on an apprenticeship with a senior tunneler. Their schedules and training are different, and so their animosity fizzles. Nettlepaw focuses more on her training and less on trying to one-up Cinderpaw. She feels a little lonely, despite Minkpaw and Littlepaw and her other friends. She finds herself... missing Cinderpaw? But why? She hated Cinderpaw. They were worst enemies.

Discontent with feelings she doesn't understand, Nettlepaw does her best to forget about Cinderpaw like the other cat seemed to have forgotten about her. It's easier than she expected, maybe, not to pick so many fights and to laugh and play with her friends instead. It isn't until her warriorhood that she unravels the meaning of her longing.

Warriorhood Nettlepaw becomes a warrior before her older once-rival, as tunneler training is long and arduous. She is given the name Nettlefang, for her snark as well as her skill in both hunting and fighting. She is pleased to join her friends at last, especially Minkfrost, who made time for her even whilst she was caught up in her newfound warrior duties.

Though still full of spunk, Nettlefang's developed personality is a far cry from her younger self. She's more likable to her peers, and reconnects with the group of friends she'd often alienated herself from. It's at that time she finally realizes the deal with what she'd felt, and was still feeling, for Cindersong. Her friends had begun talking about their crushes, gifting flowers, courtship and the like.

It struck her, that that's what her problem was. She didn't hate Cindersong, she liked her. That burning in her chest wasn't detestation, it was... desire? And it took her this long to realize. It was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders, but not for very long. There was absolutely no way Cindersong would ever like her back. Why would she? When she'd been so horrible to her? So Nettlefang did her best to forget it once more.

That forgetting is made a little easier with the help of a new friend. Viperstrike is a coiple moons younger than Nettlefang, now made a warrior, and had always been a bit of a pain in the nursery and apprentice's den. Well... just as much of a pain as Nettlefang was. Not one to fraternize with younger cats, she'd always been chilly towards Viperstrike's interest in her. But she found that harder and harder to justify as the days went on.

And so the perhaps unlikely pairing became friends. Viperstrike was a tunneler, and exceptionally good at her job. But she was also a keen fighter, which she had in common with Nettlefang. The pair mainly struck up their bond through sparring, and slowly Nettlefang grew fond of the spitfire torbie. It wasn't long before their relationship grew flirtatious.

It was a bit strange to be the object of someone's desire, but Nettlefang liked the attention. It was easier to not think about unrequited crushes when she could talk to someone who was actually interested in her.

Though the pair got on like a field on fire, their love was not without its troubles. Both being stubborn as badgers, any arguments that started were explosive and often lead to a cold shoulder. They always made up a few days later, though, and managed to avoid any real breakups. They were young and reckless, and though Nettlefang got the feeling her friends didn't like Viperstrike much, she liked her and that was enough.

Despite Nettlefang's age, she'd been seen fit to be given an apprentice only a few moons into her warriorhood. The young cat's name was Claypaw, and she was determined to give them the best warrior training possible. She regularly thought back to her own apprentice days, and sometimes even spoke with Heronflight or her mother for ideas.

Claypaw was receptive to Nettlefang's training, despite not being really anything like her. They were kind and responsible, a little shy with more experienced cats, and eager to learn. The perfect apprentice, in many cat's eyes. But there was a gap between them that Nettlefang couldn't place her paw on. However much she liked Claypaw, she felt like the tabby wasn't feeling the same.

The explanation came when Claypaw came to her one day and revealed that they wished to start tunneler training. Something Nettlefang could not provide, as she found the tunnels claustrophobic and refused to step foot in them. She was disappointed, but wanted her apprentice to continue on the path they wished for—and so Claypaw was reassigned another mentor, and Nettlefang left with an unfinished legacy.

In this time, Viperstrike sees fit to propose to Nettlefang—which is a huge surprise to the latter. She hadn't seen their thing as anything super serious, but they had talked about their future dreams and how they overlapped... Nettlefang accepted, and found pride in being called Viperstrike's mate.

She watched her friends mentor their first apprentices, forming that bond, and stews over how she never had that with Claypaw. Knowing how disappointed his old apprentice was, Heronflight put in a word with Littlestar about possibly giving Nettlefang another apprentice. This request is fulfilled only a moon or two later with Troutpaw.

The blue tabby bears a striking resemblance to Nettlefang, despite the pair not being related at all. Perhaps their similar visages were an indicator to how close they'd become. Nettlefang immediately does everything in her power to be the cool, fun mentor any apprentice would want. Because she's not losing another one to the tunnels.

With any luck, Troutpaw warms up to her. His quiet enthusiasm and naivete sparks something Nettlefang had missed since before taking on Claypaw. He especially loves rabbit-chasing, and the pair make a great hunting team. Nettlefang even finds herself learning, gaining more stamina to keep up with her long-legged speedy apprentice.

Life is looking up for Nettlefang, and just as she begins to let loose and imagine warrior Troutpaw and a future with Viperstrike, the floods come. Cats return to camp, telling of a tunnel that collapsed in the rains. She fears the absolute worst. They mention names of cats they couldn't find, and one of the names is her mother. Doveface.

Her body is never retrieved, but her fate is dealt regardless. For Nettlefang, it leaves an open wound, a lack of closure, though she convinces herself that giving her mother a proper burial would not change things. She is returned to the earth, either way. Thistletalon is despondent at the loss of his mate, turning himself to the tunnels for days on end, vowing to make them safer for everyone.

Nettlefang doesn't think it can be done. She never liked the tunnels. She becomes more against Viperstrike going in them so often, which sparks arguments anew. Her mate is determined to continue the work she loves, and that she isn't afraid of the danger the tunnels bring. Being a warrior is dangerous, she says, and it's stupid to think one duty is safer than the other. Nettlefang eventually secedes, knowing the other cat won't budge. But she isn't happy about it.

And Viperstrike can't stop her from keeping an eye on the tunnels, and warning her if she hears conditions are bad. Her attention to the underground makes her notice other things too. Other things, like how Cindersong isn't spending as much time as she used to in the tunnels. They even caught a border patrol together, though they spoke no more than formalities, Nettlefang had never seen the molly so keen to mark borders before.

She never says anything, though. She knows that Cindersong sees her watching. She keeps waiting for the tortoiseshell to speak to her first, but she never does.

Troutpaw being made a warrior is a welcome distraction from whatever her old rival has going on. The tom is named Troutnose, and Nettlefang couldn't be prouder. She still spends time with her apprentice, who she views basically as kin, but enjoys the free time to spend elsewhere. She and Viperstrike speak of starting a family when the weather grows warmer. Nettlefang finds herself sparring more as tensions ripple between the other two clans.

(cw for description of injury and death)

That extra training pays off. In the night, in the depths of winter, underhanded Ridgeclan attacks Mistclan—and Prairieclan is called to aid. Nettlefang almost hesitates to follow her mate and clan through the tunnels, but swallows her fear at the prospect of battle. She wasn't bloodthirsty, but she'd only ever participated in border spats before—and her heart leapt at the idea of a real fight.

All she can see is the enemy, watching the backs of her friends as they fight alongside her, until she shoos a defeated Ridgeclan warrior from her feet and turns to look for her next opponent. Instead, she finds Cindersong. The tortoiseshell had been... watching her? Seemingly so, as she was the first to yield and dip her head. An alien warmth in her chest, she cocks her head and flicks her tail meaningfully—a challenge for the other cat.

One that Cindersong takes. Both warriors return to battle with a newfound fervor, and Ridgeclan is soon made to retreat by the combined strength of both opposing clans. With the adrenaline fading, Nettlefang is forced to reckon with the injuries she took. Nothing life threatening, so long as they didn't get infected, but enough to exhaust her.

The same cannot be said for Viperstrike. She'd lost a lot of blood, and when Nettlefang finds her, she is a patchwork of bloodstain and cobweb. Her orange eyes alight when she sees her mate, with that familiar spirit, but when Viperstrike's paws grip her fur she can feel how weak the other cat has become.

Viperstrike seems to know her time is coming. "I'm not scared, Nettlefang. Don't be sad for me. Rather this than withering away in the elder's den, right?" Her face softens almost uncharacteristically. "I'm sorry we didn't get to have our family. I want you to find someone else who can give you that. I want you to be happy. I'd hate it if I stopped you from finding that."

Nettlefang stays with her until she breathes her last breath, still on the battlefield. She carries her home through the tunnels. The frozen leafbare soil is hard to claw through, but Nettlefang does it to lay her beloved friend to rest.

It takes a while for her to realize that Ridgeclan warriors lie among those her clan is treating. Abandoned by their clan, and shown undue kindness in her eyes. But she holds her tongue. She is too tired and grief-stricken to fight it, and knows the generosity of her clan outweighs any grudge they hold against the attackers.

She does notice that Cindersong is amongst those advocating to help the injured enemies. The tortoiseshell was always more mature and forgiving than she, after all. With the battle complete—Nettlefang dare not call it won—Prairieclan finds a new unlikely ally in Mistclan. And with Wolfstar dead, Ridgeclan is hopefully nullified as a threat... for another season or two, at least.

Despite the battle being over, the echos of the fight remain. Nettlefang leans heavily on her friends in her mourning, especially finding comport in Minkfrost. A strike to the heart of Prairieclan is the loss of their deputy, Wheatnose. Cats had known of the injuries they had taken for their clan, and the infection that took hold. It was perhaps foolish to think they would recover. A new deputy must be chosen.

Littlestar chooses Cindersong. Eyes wide in surprise, and perhaps equal parts jealousy and pride, Nettlefang looks to her clanmate. She sees her disbelief reflected deep in the eyes of the tortoiseshell, though her expression does not betray it. The sick feeling of envy in her stomach turns to something else—satisfaction, maybe. However much she holds a grudge, she finds herself respecting Cindersong more and more as then moons go on. And cannot deny that the molly would make an excellent deputy.

Though trouble is not over, beginning to brew back home in Prairieclan. A small group of rogues has settled in an abandoned twoleg cabin in the north of their territory. Nettlefang immediately voices that they should chase them away, but it seems like her clanmates are more cautious. The rogues hadn't done anything wrong yet, despite being on their territory and outspokenly hating clan cats. It was only a matter of time, she thought.

And with Mistclan revealing they'd scented rogues on their land... most eyes, including Nettlefang's, turned accusatory towards the cabin. Littlestar still did nothing, encouraging tolerance and alliance with the clanless. Cindersong, thankfully, was a little more reasonable—but didn't push the leader towards chasing the cats out. Nettlefang continued to hold her tongue. She trusted Cindersong, despite their old animosity, to keep the clan safe.

Lately, however her feelings are towards the clan's deputy, she's been spending more time with Minkfrost. Their friendship was as strong as ever, though she noticed the bengal getting weirdly bashful at times. Until she started to feel it too—those butterflies in her stomach. She remembers what Viperstrike said to her. I want you to be happy.

Minkfrost made her happy. And it was easy, being around her. Their relationship was never as tumultuous as her and Viperstrike's. It was peaceful. If they had a disagreement, they didn't fight, they talked it out. They made each other laugh. And she trusted Minkfrost the most out of anyone she knew. It was so easy to fall in love.

She could only hope that Minkfrost felt the same. She'd dilly-dallied enough—and knew that even if it wasn't mutual, it wouldn't hurt their friendship. It couldn't. Remembering the customary declaration of love, she'd found her friend's favorite flowers and hidden them under her nest. Then she'd invited the molly to share a meal—but it seemed Minkfrost already had plans?

Her favorite flowers, determined yellow dandelions, were clutched in the other cat's mouth. Many cats didn't like the flower's spiky leaves or tendency to grow everywhere, but Nettlefang always did. They weren't the prettiest, but they were strong. To her surprise and glee, Minkfrost confessed just as Nettlefang had planned to do.

Laughing, and instead of giving an immediate reply, Nettlefang had rushed back into the warriors den to find the flower lying under her nest. Minkfrost's face lit up when she caught sight of her. It was simply meant to be. Nettlefang soared through the rest of the day, spending time with her favorite cat, ensuring she knew she was loved. She slept easy that night, curled next to her mate, so full of love and hope for the future.

She had hoped that committing herself to Minkfrost, someone who she loved as almost second nature, that her feelings for Cindersong might fade. They didn't. And she found herself guilty whenever her eyes lingered on the dappled coat of her deputy. There was no way she could like two cats at the same time. Thankfully, Nettlefang was a master at repressing her feelings by now. She once again put it to the back of her mind.

Nettlefang does know she can't delay the inevitable, though. So she finally, finally approaches Cindersong one night. The other cat seems surprised to see her. Of course she is, Nettlefang would be concerned if she wasn't. Cutting straight to the chase, she began, "I think you're right. I think the tunnels are dangerous."

Cindersong stared at her as if she'd just proclaimed that hedgehogs lived on the moon. So she elaborated a little more. "I've never liked them." "You agree with me?" Oh, so that's why she'd looked so surprised. Of course I do, mousebrain! Any sane cat would. She simply nodded, knowing it unwise to call someone a mousebrain when you were trying to make amends.

"Minkfrost does too." She'd talked to her love the other day about it, and knew mentioning her would help Cindersong trust her. "I think there are others." There had to be. So many had lost loved ones to the tunnels. She couldn't be the only one who harbored contempt for them.

With Cindersong's admission,  "I don't know what to do," it's Nettlefang's turn to be surprised. She doesn't? I thought she had a plan, y'know, like deputies always seem to have. But that's alright. "We'll figure it out," she promises, finally taking a seat next to Cindersong. Close, but not close enough to touch. "Might be nice to work together for once."

All she gets is a scoff in response. But Cindersong doesn't disagree.

I'll take that as a win.

But wins don't come easy and they don't come often. Especially not for the cats who live the dangerous, wild life of a warrior. A heavy snow comes as one of winter's last hurrahs before the thaws, and with it Prairieclan leader Littlestar goes missing. All that is found of her is her scent, blood, and fur coating the snow. Her body was never found. The clan assumes a coyote or fox was her undoing.

Nobody expected Littlestar to be on her last life. Nonetheless, Cindersong becomes Cinderstar in her place. Nettlefang is fairly pleased with the development, despite the loss of Littlestar, she doesn't think their old leader was taking the steps needed to protect the clan from what lay under their feet. Cinderstar was going to. And she was going to do her darndest to help.

Deputyhood It catches Nettlefang incredibly off guard when Cinderstar reveals she'd like her to be her deputy. They hadn't spoken much since they agreed on the truce, and now she was being asked to take Cinderstar's right paw position? Weren't they sworn enemies just moons ago? After confirming that this was what the tortoiseshell wanted—not a cat that will follow her blindly, but one who will challenge her but back her up with passion—Nettlefang accepts the position.

They have big plans for the tunnels, big plans to keep everyone safe.

Pre-Plotting: Nettlefang fills the spot of Cinderstar's old rival and potential love interest. She relates most to the Amaryllis role in Prairieclan's plot. She distrusts outsiders and cats from other clans, and believes Prairieclan is not respected for the strength they have. She wants her clan to not allow itself to be pushed around like they have been.

Family: Though she has a large extended family, her lack of littermates, prematurely deceased mother, and heartbroken father has lead to Nettlefang yearning for a family she can care for. She gave up on the idea when she lost Viperstrike, but the thought of kits has rekindled with the partnership of Minkfrost. She hopes the other molly wants that too, but hasn't brought it up yet.

Friends: Though those she'd consider friends are few and far between, Nettlefang is deathly loyal to the cats she cares about. She's not the easiest to make friends with, as she comes across as tough and unwelcoming to strangers and acquaintances alike. If you can put aside the prickly beginnings, she does make a faithful companion. And far sweeter than you'd think—she especially likes to give gifts and help out with various tasks.

Romance: Ever since Nettlefang's revelation that she liked Cinderstar, Nettlefang looked for cats to distract her. Though dedicated in her duties and to her friends, she is a little more noncommittal with romantic relationships. After the loss of her first love Viperstrike, she doesn't think she'll find anyone again. Until she realizes the cat for her was here all along—Minkfrost, who is already her best friend. She's loving and content in her relationship, but still feels that magnetic pull towards Cinderstar no matter her attempts to ignore it.

Rivals: With her rough personality and dislike of authority, it's no surprise that Nettlefang has made some enemies in her day. Most notably Cinderstar who has been her rival since kithood. Since her younger moons she has put more effort into begrudgingly allying with cats she may not like for the sake of her clan—but anyone outside of it is fair game. Even she and Cinderstar have cemented a union in shared opposition towards the tunnels. But old habits die hard. Additionally, any cats in favor of the tunnels will earn a swift enemy in her.