Foxflight is not a small cat, set alongside a gathering of warriors from the other clans. But he is on the smaller end for RidgeClan, whose warriors tend to be on the hardier side. His personality, a little more nervous by nature, lends itself toward him appearing smaller as well, though he carries himself with unintentional grace - even confidence when it counts.

Like his namesake, Foxflight is a ginger cat, with subtle tabby striping and fur long enough to keep him warm during the harshest of leaf-bares. Set against the orange of his fur, his bright green eyes stand out well - particularly when he's holding eye contact. 

Though he managed to escape much injury during the conflict with MistClan, he does have minor scratch wounds that are not quite scars but have yet to completely fade hidden under his coat. He doesn't really wear them as the same mark of honor that some warriors might, considering he regrets his involvement with the attack in the first place.

Shrewthorn sucks in a breath when the last of the pain subsides - soreness remains, yes, but that's plenty ignorable when he looks upon the tiny kits lined up at his side. He doesn't think he's ever seen anything so remarkable. No, he's certain he hasn't. In a way, he's fulfilled the duty his mother always wished for him to carry out, but these kits are so much more than that. He loves them. And she can't take that away from him.

And with Firepelt at his side, she'll never again get close enough to him to try. As if summoned by the thought, Shrewthorn smiles as Firepelt enters the nursery, clearly a little put out at being kept away by the medicine cat earlier. As expected, his eyes warm the moment he lays eyes on them.

They're healthy? You're healthy?" he asks with needless concern. The medicine cat would have assured him they were fine, despite the kits being a little small.

Still, he smiles reassuringly. "We're healthy. They're beautiful, Firepelt."

"You're beautiful," Firepelt whispers with a little bit more intimacy than Shrewthorn thinks they should share in the nursery. He makes a dismissive sound that draws a chuckle from Firepelt before he sniffs the three kits in turn. "Have you named them?"

"I was waiting for you," Shrewthorn admits. The first kit looks so much like his father, with that striking ginger. The other two took more after him. All of them are wonderful. "I was thinking fox, for the first."

"It's suitable," Firepelt agrees with a small smile. They're so little, but the middle born still snakes his way close his father's belly, pushing the third kit away on his way. "Maybe weasel, for that one," he says, charmed.

Shrewthorn laughs, albeit a little tired from the evening. "He looks like a little weasel, doesn't he?" They share a quiet moment before he speaks again. "And rabbit, for the last."

Firepelt nods, nuzzles against his forehead, and no one complains when he spends the night in the nursery, curled up against his mate and his offspring.

-

Foxkit wants for nothing. His earliest memories are filled with the love of his fathers and the near constant chatter of his brother, Weaselkit. By comparison, Rabbitkit is much quieter, and much softer - it isn't long before Foxkit is often shooed away to play with the older kits, while his brothers catch up in growth. And with the older kits, he has himself a second set of parents: Nightfrost and Cloudgaze, who look after him like he's one of their own.

Silverkit welcomes him the same.

These are the happiest memories he carries.

-

"Are you going to be a guardian? Like your mom?" Foxkit asks, lounging in the sun after some play.

Silverkit doesn't even need to think about it. "Of course," he says. Foxkit hums to show he's listening, but he's deep in thought. Unexpectedly, Silverkit knows exactly what's on his mind. "That doesn't mean we won't spend any time together. Hunting parties need guardians."

That brings a smile to Foxkit's face. "Does that make you my guardian?"

He can't read Silverkit's expression. But his voice is soft when he responds: "Yeah. I suppose it does."

-

He can't wait until he joins Silverpaw in the apprentice den. He's practically bursting with excitement as the day draws nearer.

-

Sagepelt, an agile warrior with a cross expression and a focused gaze stands across from him during the naming ceremony. Foxpaw isn't intimidated by him so much as he worries he's going to disappoint - he's not as strong as some of the other kits, he thinks, and he'd hate to fail his clan or his family. The big gray tabby gives him an unimpressed raise of the eyebrow and little else until the ceremony concludes, at which point he says, "Come along, Foxpaw. Let's see what you can do."

As it turns out, what he could do was not very much. He wasn't used to the balance required of hunting, his stamina was, as Sagepelt commented, "mouse shit," and it took only seconds for him to wind up on his back during a fight. He felt like there wasn't a scrap of potential in him at all. By the end of the day, his mouth was downturned and his whiskers all but drooped.

The smile returns to his face quickly, when he finds that Silverpaw kept his promise. The nest beside him awaits, and when they fall asleep, Foxpaw lets his tail lay over one of Silverpaw's paws.

-

When he wakes up, they're curled back to back.

-

"Perhaps you expect the mouse to wander into your mouth on its own," Sagepelt drawls, watching him attempt to get the crouching and prowling steps down. Foxpaw shoots him an irritated glance, but sets his jaw with determination and tries again. "When I was an apprentice, we learned these steps while still in the nursery."

"When was that?" Weaselpaw calls over from nearby. "When tigers still prowled the land?"

Sagepelt doesn't grace him with a response, but Foxpaw still laughs.

"Again," Sagepelt directs coldly.

With an annoyed huff, he again drops into a hunting crouch.

-

"I don't get it," he says when the apprentices are gathered for an evening meal. "I don't think I'm doing it any differently than anyone else is. But he acts like I'm an idiot."

Weaselpaw makes a derisive noise. "He's jealous you'll be a better hunter than he ever will."

"I'll never get the chance," he complains.

At his side, Silverpaw says, "Why don't I show you?"

"Would you?" he asks, brushing his side against his.

"Silverpaw would do anything for you," Weaselpaw says, with what appears to be a fond eye roll.

It's a comforting thought.

-

"You're nervous," Silverpaw says plainly after watching him crouch around the outskirts of camp. They couldn't really leave without one of their mentors present, or at least another warrior, but they could take a little privacy.

Foxpaw pouts as he sits up. "Of course I'm nervous, with you watching me."

"Are you nervous when Sagepelt watches you?"

He thinks about it, even though the answer is obvious. Of course he's nervous under Sagepelt's criticism. He wants to get it right, but wanting something doesn't mean it's going to happen. Finally, he says, "Is it so silly if I am?"

Silverpaw comes to his side and nudges his shoulder playfully. It succeeds in taking the tension out of his back. "No, it's perfectly reasonable." He always could count on Silverpaw taking his side. They share a smile, and then Silverpaw says, "Focus on something else when you're next training. A tree, a cricket, whatever's around. You'll feel more natural when you aren't anxious about what he thinks of you."

-

When he tries again, his crouch is flawless.

Sagepelt's whiskers twitch in approval, and with narrowed eyes, he says, "Let's see how you handle the real thing."

-

It's a moon after the other apprentices, but once Foxpaw is released into the territory, he hunts with the swiftness of his namesake. He's fast, most of the time, his marks don't even see him coming before it's too late. Maybe he's a late bloomer, or maybe Weaselpaw is right and Sagepelt was needlessly holding him back, but either way he's proud.

Sagepelt remarks that his performance is satisfactory. And then he says, "See if you can't get Silverpaw to better your self defense, while you're at it."

It makes his tail droop. Like he couldn't have been a successful hunter without Silverpaw's help. And now, he fears that's all his mentor will ever see. A cat who couldn't manage anything on his own.

-

His mood improves when Shadowpaw, Snowpaw, and Juniperpaw join them in the apprentice's den. The group is complete again; even if Rabbitpaw drifts to spend his time sharing tongues with new friends. With boosted confidence, his training rapidly accelerates: he begins winning spars with greater frequency, his hunting improves to the point that he becomes known around the clan for catching birds out of the sky, and he's well liked by the queens in the nursery and the elders in the elder's den.

The only one who doesn't seem to like him is Sagepelt.

"I don't understand," he snaps. "I've improved my sparring, a hunt just as well as a warrior does, I work hard - what more could you want from me?" 

Sagepelt looks him in the eye - little height difference remains between them. Foxpaw doesn't back down.

For the first time in his life, he sees Sagepelt smile. "You've passed the first test."

-

Later, he explains that a warrior must show confidence in themselves and their abilities to be effective. A warrior must not waver. A warrior must not let doubt cloud their judgment. He uses the word must so many times, he practically writes his own warrior code, but still, Foxpaw finds himself proud to finally be living up to these expectations.

"You have so much potential, Foxpaw. Do not let another warrior's will prevent you from moving forward."

Foxpaw has the self control to not mention that, up to this point, it was only Sagepelt's will holding him down. 

-

The second test is hunting. He passes with flying colors.

The third test is fighting.

It's a test he fails.

-

He's moping when Shadowpaw comes to sit by him. They share a meal in companionable silence until the rest of the apprentices return for the evening.

-

"You're not coming at me hard enough," Foxpaw complains.

Silverpaw looks uncertain. He says, "I don't want to hurt you."

He frowns. "I'm asking you to. Come at me like you want to hurt me." How else was he going to learn to fight? Sagepelt wouldn't let him pass his assessment if he can't defend himself. And he's lackluster at defending himself. He's not a fighter, even if he's supposed to be.

Silverpaw doesn't look happy about it, but he leaps at him again, until they're on the ground in a tangled mess of hisses and limbs. It ends as it always does - with Foxpaw unable to free himself from Silverpaw.

"I'm never going to be a good warrior," he says, as if he's already resigned to the fact. Maybe he is. He cant hunt well, but when it came down to defending his clan, he was no more useful than a kit. 

Silverpaw says, carefully, "There's more to being a good warrior than strength."

Foxpaw mutters, "That's easy to say when it's a quality you already possess."

Silverpaw doesn't disagree with him. Instead he helps him come up with a strategy. "You're fast. Make him come to you."

-

It works.

Foxpaw is fast, and though he's not small enough to feel particularly dextrous, that speed gives him the upper paw. Sagepelt isn't expecting it when he finally darts forward instead of back.

The grin his mentor wears all the way back to camp is almost worth it.

But he can't help feeling that he's still not a warrior on his own merit.

-

"I think you're overthinking it," Snowpaw says, like she doesn't quite understand. Probably because she doesn't.

But it's still nice of her to say so.

-

"I know you're overthinking it," Weaselpaw says later. "Nothing wrong with taking some advice."

He decides his brother has a point.

-

Weaselpaw is nowhere to be seen. When finally Foxpaw meanders over to Rabbitpaw to ask if he's seen him (low chance of that, really), he's surprised when his brother says coolly, "Weaselpaw isn't being named a warrior with the rest of us."

It's a shock to his system. But he realizes he knows where Weaselpaw would go, at a time like this.

He goes to find his fathers.

-

He finds them curled around Weaselpaw, Shrewthorn grooming the fur atop his head neatly while he persistently pretends he wasn't recently emotional. He seems embarrassed when Foxpaw joins them, and is quiet when their fathers stand to give them a moment.

Foxpaw decides he has to break the silence. "I'll wait for you. I won't be named until you are," he declares.

Weaselpaw smiles at his paws. "And give Rabbitpaw the satisfaction? Don't be stupid."

Foxpaw snorts, but he doesn't think Rabbitpaw is that bad.

Like he's hesitant to say it, Weaselpaw adds, "I said something stupid to Silverpaw."

Foxpaw doesn't have to think twice. "He'll forgive you. You know he will."

Weaselpaw looks away, but he agrees with a quiet, "Yeah."

-

"By the power of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Foxpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Foxflight. StarClan honors your perseverance, wit, and speed, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RidgeClan." 

-

It goes without question that his nest should be beside Silverheart's. It's quiet save for the soft sound of some warriors snoring, and Foxflight, unable to sleep, nudges against Silverheart's side.

"Now you're really my guardian, huh?" he asks with a little humor. To think: it's just as they envisioned as kits. Silverheart a guardian, and Foxflight a well-liked hunter.

"I always will be," Silverheart says, just as soft as any other friendly vow he'd made. Foxflight assumes he's tired and curls back into his nest so they can rest up before their first real days as warriors.

-

It's not a crush, he tells himself, when Aldertail leans over to whisper a joke he only half understands, based on his barely-there knowledge of the prominent cats of other clans. One of the other MistClan cats overhears and snorts loudly, so it must be a humorous observation, just not one that Foxflight has the experience to appreciate. Still, he smiles, and Aldertail smiles back at him, and StarClan help him, his heart is pounding.

-

He likes it, the flirting. He likes trying to flirt back, though he feels not nearly as capable as Aldertail clearly is in that department. Still, he only sees him at Gatherings. There's no way to see him otherwise - not without breaking the fundamental codes of the clans.

He still thinks about it, when he passes nearby the MistClan border.

Maybe that makes him a bad warrior.

-

"Saw you talking to that MistClan warrior," Weaselsong says, standing proud in his newly acquired name after his first Gathering; Foxflight's second.

Foxflight doesn't like feeling like he's done something wrong. His brother doesn't sound like he's accusing him of anything, but he feels the accusation nonetheless. "We're just talking," he says, defensive.

Weaselsong gives him a look. "Sure. I know what talking looks like," he replies easily. "Just don't let him jerk you around, okay?"

He rolls his eyes. "He's not like that. And it's not like that, anyway."

"Sure," Weaselsong says again.

Neither of them really believe him.

-

StarClan becomes an increasingly divisive topic in the clan. Piety, spirituality, big talk about the direction of RidgeClan, about dominance. Superiority. Wolfstar is so charismatic that it doesn't make him nervous, at first. It's easy to listen to cats like Wolfstar. Cats with dreams, vision, who express themselves so well. It doesn't really register as wrong until there becomes an air of threat around his words.

And he starts to see it in others, too. Shadowgaze hardens, in a way. He becomes difficult to talk to, even though Foxflight tries to act like nothing has changed. His fathers, too, have a zealous look to them when they mention Wolfstar's plans.

Weaselsong has no problem falling in line with Shadowgaze. Juniperfang, too, and Snowlight - they're siblings, so it doesn't really surprise him, in the end.

But he's unsure.

-

"Doesn't it sound a little... aggressive?" he asks Shadowgaze, in a rare moment when they're on their own.

Shadowgaze doesn't look like the kit he grew up with when he meets his eyes. "Don't prove yourself weak, Foxflight," he says. It's impressive how cutting a quiet voice can sound, he thinks.

He's quick to assure him he won't.

-

The same thing happens with Sagestep. "Don't disappoint me, Foxflight. Not when you've come so far."

Foxflight bites back a comment about being overcome by another warrior's will.

But maybe he's right. Maybe they're all right. Maybe RidgeClan really is the most faithful to StarClan, and maybe that means they should rightfully possess the Moonpool - and more, really.

At least, it's an easy talking point to get behind.

-

It's a relief when he gets a patrol with Silverheart. For moons, it seems, they've been kept apart for one reason or another, only to return to the warrior's den at night where they still nested together. He thinks to ask him on hunts more often, to really live out their youthful dreams of guardian and hunter, but some it feels like Silverheart is avoiding him.

It's probably in his head.

"What do you think of it all?" Silverheart asks. "Of Wolfstar, I mean, and his plans."

It's not what he wants to talk about. He wants a break from it all, really. "Oh... Well, I want to support our leader. And... I want to be a good warrior for the clan, like you are." Maybe he hasn't been, lately. "But, I guess it's a little intense for me," he admits. 

"Intense, yes." It almost sounds like Silverheart has been waiting for him to agree. It's... puzzling. He's not sure when it became true that Silverheart couldn't just speak his mind to him, or vice versa. "I don't like how he speaks about MistClan and the Moonpool."

He laughs, but not because it's funny. "He definitely has opinions!" he agrees, careful. "But, Shadowgaze says he's right."

"I suppose."

They don't talk about it the rest of the patrol.

-

Of course he doesn't love how Wolfstar talks about MistClan. He thinks of Aldertail and something akin to fear pricks his skin.

But what's he supposed to do?

-

Aldertail can't break up with him, because they never were anything. Somehow, that makes it worse. With everything falling apart back home, he's desperate not to lose the only connection that felt so easy.

But maybe it only felt easy because it hadn't mattered. Not the way everything back home mattered.

"I love you," he says anyway.

"It was just a little fun," Aldertail responds. The cruelty of it stops him in his tracks. "Sorry you thought it meant anything to me."

He doesn't say anything else. He flees, like a coward, and his mood sours considerably by the time he reaches camp.

-

"You're right," he says to Shadowgaze later. "MistClan doesn't deserve the Moonpool."

-

He feels like an idiot once he's cooled off. 

-

"You can't be this foolish." He wants to cry. Silverheart has never once made him feel bad about himself, he's only ever treated him with tenderness. The change is salt in the wound, on top of everything else. He bristles before he even finishes his next thought.

"So you're insulting me now?" he snaps, swallowing back the shame and foolish hope that Silverheart didn't mean it. Maybe the whole time he only pitied him, and that's why he was always so helpful. So damn helpful. "Just come out with it, Silverheart. You always thought I was an idiot."

"Don't prove yourself to be one."

It stings. All at once he's a stupid apprentice at the foot his mentor, failing over and over. Only, then, he at least had Silverheart.

Aldertail's rejection flashes hot in his mind when he responds. He barely knows what he's saying, it tumbles out of his mouth so quickly.

Silverheart looks heartbroken by the time he's able to stop.

-

Silverheart doesn't sleep next to him that night. The space remains unoccupied. Cold. Chilling. A reminder of that dark place that resides inside him, that let him say such terrible things.

He's alone.

Foxflight has never felt so truly alone.

-

It's too late. He's comfortably in Wolfstar's circle, by virtue of invitation by Shadowgaze. He, Shadowgaze, Weaselsong, Snowlight, and Juniperfang takes meals with the highest ranking, most dedicated warriors. They're told again and again that they are the back bone of the clan, the future of the clan, that their loyalty is what will lead RidgeClan to true greatness.

He shares that a battle is coming.

Foxflight wants to sob.

-

"What's wrong with you?" Weaselsong asks after all but designing the perfect moment by forcing him on patrol.

The question is more direct than he was expecting. Still, he says, "Nothing."

"Mouse dung."

There is a brief standoff before Foxflight drops his shoulders and looks at the ground, sharing the disappointment and shame of Aldertail's rejection and the grief and embarrassment of the loss of Silverheart's friendship. "I don't know why I said it," he says, flushed. "I don't love Aldertail. I never have."

"And you don't hate Silverheart either," Weaselsong replies, as if he knows something Foxflight clearly doesn't.

"No," he whispers. "I don't. I don't. I don't know why..."

Weaselsong looks at him very seriously. "Temporary insanity," he declares. "Seriously, you know Silverheart will forgive you. He'd forgive you of anything."

Maybe. "I was really mean, Weaselsong."

"Won't make a difference."

That doesn't make him feel better.

-

He doesn't get the chance to apologize.

RidgeClan is going to war. 

-

Foxflight is many things. He's not a fighter. Oh, stars help him, he's not a fighter. There's a part of him that's certain, with not a single shred of doubt, that he's going to die if he joins Wolfstar in the attack. But when eyes fall to him, he's afraid to back down. He agrees to join the party of warriors who will attack MistClan's borders to claim the Moonpool.

He's so, so scared.

-

He thinks he sees Silverheart join them.

-

It's chaos. Hissing, growling, yowling - noise everywhere. He can't focus. He can barely see, there's so much movement, and all he smells is blood and fear and -

a MistClan warrior slams into his side.

-

Through a lot of thrashing and desperation, he wriggles free of the dense MistClan warrior and slips back into the crowd, seeking Silverheart but running into Weaselsong instead. He's being cornered - he's not sure if it's bravery or loyalty that his him throwing himself between them, to give Weaselsong a fighting chance.

He doesn't want to die here.

-

They live. Wolfstar doesn't.

Sagepelt doesn't, either. The wounds he sustained in the battle bear infection and he dies quietly, really only felt by his family, and by Foxflight, who thinks he can't possibly take any more tragedy.

He's wrong, of course. There's always more tragedy.

-

Silverheart doesn't come back. He sobs, and then he sits in mourning, though he's sure Laurelfang would rather he not be there. 

He doesn't deserve to be there.

-

Shadowgaze looks haunted when they sit in the morning sun together. He's not sure he looks any different. "Foxflight-"

"Don't," he whispers, knowing his voice will break if he speaks any louder. "Just... sit with me."

Shadowgaze obliges.

-

Weaselsong looks ecstatic when he returns to camp from patrol, Rabbitfern and another warrior trailing behind him like they hadn't wanted to join him much in the first place, though their expressions carry relief as well. "Fox - listen, Foxflight," he says, emphatically, and then he's turning to address the whole clan. "There's survivors. MistClan is sheltering them, until they're well enough to return." He looks at Foxflight again. "He's alive, Foxflight."

He nearly collapses on the spot.

-

He tries to go see him, many times. Every time he cowards out, returning to camp with an embarrassed shake of his head toward Weaselsong. He's not sure what he's more afraid of: Silverheart being unable to forgive him, or the state he'll find him in, post-injury.

Maybe he's just afraid in general.

-

The clan remains divided. But Foxflight remains certain of one thing: that harboring a superiority complex and a thirst for power will be the ruin of RidgeClan, maybe even all the clans, and that RidgeClan must make amends with their neighbors if they're ever going to heal.

Foxflight wants to be a part of that healing. He never wants to be a part of something like Wolfstar's plots again.

But he's not so certain his all friends will agree with him.   

Pre-Plotting: During the conflict with MistClan, Foxflight aligned himself more with the cats who followed in Wolfstar's beliefs, not because he shared their beliefs exactly but because his family did. Now he falls somewhere between Saturn and Uranus's beliefs: for too long, RidgeClan has held itself as superior to others, and the resulting tensions with the clans have not been healthy for the clan itself or the ecosystem of the clans as a whole. He wouldn't exactly call the Oracle's position redundant inherently, but what it became isn't worth striving for.

Plotter | Tracker

Family: Family is complicated, for Foxflight. He loves his fathers, Firepelt and Shrewthorn, and they love him back considerably, but they haven't always been in agreement when it comes to clan politics, especially now. And the rift between Weaselsong and Rabbitfern makes their brotherly bond anything but peaceful, even with Foxflight attempting to placate. Weaselsong is otherwise his best friend even beyond blood, but he hasn't always led him down great paths, either. That doesn't lessen the love and the loyalty, though. Family is deeply important to him, as it is most if not all RidgeClan cats. 
Friends: Aside from his brothers, Foxflight grew up with Shadowgaze, who he loves like a brother, and Silverheart, who's status with him is best described as complicated, and made friends with Snowlight and Juniperfang while they were all apprentices. He used to consider Aldertail of MistClan a friend, but came to think of that as a mistake made by a young cat of poor judgment, though reflecting on it now he's not so sure that's really how he feels. As a cat with a friendly disposition, he usually doesn't have much trouble at least making surface-level friends.
Romance: When Foxflight was rather young, he had a deeply held crush on another warrior from MistClan, who he met at a Gathering. This never resulted in a relationship and to his knowledge was not mutual. It also ended rather harshly, when tensions between their clans were rising. Presently, he has affection for Silverheart, who he also had a falling out with but has quietly loved possibly since they were apprentices.
Rivals: Foxflight doesn't like to have rivals. It makes him anxious to think there's cats out there that might hate him, especially if they'd have reason to. Still, there's some negative feelings he still carries toward Aldertail, and it has been easy with Silverheart since they fell on opposite sides of clan politics, even if that's changed recently.