Coyotepaw is the spitting image of his father, which is to say that he's also the spitting image of his grandfather, and great grandfather, and many a warrior before that. With the same brown pelt, the same rippling stripes, and the same green eyes, he could very well be mistaken for Sparrowbelly in his youth, though he presents a very different personality from his humorous, charming father.

Rather than the easy joy Sparrowbelly exhibits, he instead has a guarded stare, an expression far too serious for his young age, and large paws that suggest a future with a much bulkier build than the one he currently carries. But Coyotepaw doesn't think his clan mates see any of that when they look at him. Instead, he thinks they see a reluctant kitty-pet who never wanted to be a member of the clan in the first place. And he's determined to prove them wrong.

Much of Coyotepaw's story at this point in his young life is really his mother's. Clover was not just an outsider. She was a kitty-pet. There really was no reason for her to have met a clan cat in the first place, except that Violet's kit had wandered out of the garden fence and everyone was eager to find him safe. Even if that meant wandering further into the Valley, where dangerous wild cats claimed territory and hunted rats and waged wars. Or so the stories went.

This clan cat was lounging in the meadow, sun warming his tabby fur and whiskers twitching with amusement as he flirted with her. He looked comfortable. Safe. Even kind and silly. Not at all how she pictured clan cats.

"Sparrowpaw," he said, like an introduction.

She quirked a brow. "Your paws don't look like birds."

He laughed, and that was that.

-

To everyone's relief, Violet's kitten was found, safe and sound, by another cat who resided on a farm.

-

Sparrowpaw was so likable that Clover kept coming back. Moon after moon, until one day he said his name was Sparrowbelly now. And though he warned her of recent danger in the valley, she kept coming back.

-

"You know," he said, faux absent-mindedly, like he was nervous to voice what he was thinking, "you could join me. In PrairieClan."

She made a face. "Oh, I could never."

"Sure you could," he insisted. "We're not like RidgeClan or even MistClan. We've taken all sorts before."

But she had no desire to leave her life behind. She loved her family, her friends, the pond behind the house. Sparrowbelly was nice, but he wasn't her world. Politely, she turned him down.

-

A few moons later, her belly grew.

-

It was only when her two-legs turned her loose that she found Sparrowbelly again. "They're yours," she said, and more reluctantly, "I have nowhere else to go."

And so she joined PrairieClan, after all.

-

They're lucky - despite being young parents, the birth goes well. Cloverpelt doesn't even remember the pain of it once she's on the other side, nestled up with four kits, all mottled mixes of herself and Sparrowbelly. They named them after predators found lurking in the forests: wolf, coyote, lynx, and fox. For the first time since joining the clan, Cloverpelt felt as if she could really make a home there, in the sanctuary of the nursery.

-

kithood

Coyotekit was trouble from a young age. It's not exactly that he meant to be trouble. It was more like trouble had it out for him and he had no choice but to let it run its course.

Cloverpelt knew trouble well. She knew her reluctance to join the clan gave her that label, and she knew Sparrowbelly worked hard to ease the minds of any clan mates who weren't certain about bringing even a pregnant newcomer in who might not embrace the warrior code. She didn't like that her resolution was questioned, now that she was here she would make this her home, but she struggled to blame them for being uncertain about her.

She could blame them for being uncertain of her offspring, though. They would be raised as clan cates. This is the only life they would know. Perhaps in some ways she was trouble, in that she still had to learn this way of life, but her kits were not.

Her trouble was Coyotekit's trouble. Caught between worlds, he wasn't sure if the warriors of his clan saw him as a kitty-pet, or as a clan cat. He looked like his father, but he overheard talk that he and his siblings might be soft for their way of life, like their mother.

"Don't mind it," Cloverpelt said. But of course he minded it. If PrairieClan was so accepting, what made his mother's circumstances so different? What made his?

He was only four moons old when he barreled into an elder that suggested he might not keep up as an apprentice. He was both too young to cause any real damage and too young to understand that PrairieClan was dealing with a culture shift as the barn cats nearby stirred up trouble. They called him rough, disobedient, difficult - but on the other hand, some respected his desire to stand up for himself.

And so he leaned into it. He became rough, and disobedient, and difficult. Maybe some would grow to accept him, and in turn, accept his mother.

He was four and a half moons old when he and Lynxkit first snuck away from camp to explore. Impulsive, they called him.

He was five moons old when he got into a fight with an apprentice and left a scratch across his face that would need time to fade. Overly aggressive, they said. There were threats that his apprenticeship ceremony might be delayed, before Sparrowbelly once again settled nerves with a little good humor.

And at six moons old, Coyotekit was named Coyotepaw.

apprenticeship
 
To say that Coyotepaw didn't get along with his initial mentor would be an incredible understatement. Snowfleck was old and gruff, intended to mellow out Coyotepaw by, essentially, forcing a sense of hierarchy and stability. But Coyotepaw was never willing to play the subordinate and worked against his mentor's directions at every turn.

Unwilling to participate, disloyal; these were all new descriptions attributed to him. Each time, he shook it off with a sneer and a decisive tail flick. Whatever they called him, he wasn't going to pander to what Snowfleck wanted from him. He would not grovel to be a warrior.

It took half a moon before Snowfleck refused to mentor him further. With Littlestar gone, Cinderstar had to find him a new teacher.

Brackenthorn was named his replacement; and only time now will tell if they work together better than his first match. 

Pre-Plotting: Coyotepaw, though young, is relentlessly opinionated. He falls somewhere between the "heather" and "amaryllis" views, though the latter is largely his way of wrestling with his own outsider blood. As a self-reliant cat, he believes in his clan's ability to care for themselves and thinks they should prioritize themselves and their own problems before any other clan's. If the other clans wanted to play nice, they wouldn't be waging war at every turn.

Though young, Coyotepaw may also fill the thorn role in PrairieClan's plot, with his tendency to use claws first and ask questions later.

Coyotepaw will also have a wanted ad including family, friends, and rivals up soon!

Family: Coyotepaw comes from a large family. Unsurprisingly, family is very important to him, and nearly the only cats he fully trusts are family members.
Friends: Coyotepaw struggles to make friends. Good luck.
Romance: TBD. But also good luck.
Rivals: He's competitive, so he could easily make rivals out of other apprentices, or any cat that doesn't fully trust his mother or his heritage.