Persimmon has a presence to her. She's intense, but her passion is infectious. Coupled with a fluffy coat that amplifies her size, fur that shines golden in the daylight, and an unbeatable confidence, Percy looks very much like a ray of the sun, born in the flesh. She carries herself with strength and purpose, like every day is a battle that she intends to win. Despite everything she radiates, she also manages to be approachable. Her posture and reputation says, "Someone giving you trouble? Come to me. I've got it." 

But her eyes, a hazel-green that manages to be cold, betray a different story. She's cut-throat in more ways than one and won't hold back when the time comes to chase the rot of the clans out of the Valley. 

Percy doesn't know her father. She knows her mother, Melina, a beautiful, graceful cat with a story that her daughters will never know, was alone when she birthed them. She knows it was summer when they were born: bright golden offspring, like the rays of the sun. And she knows the woods they are born in, nearby two-leg camping grounds, where her mother occasionally goes to retrieve a bounty of stolen foods to sustain herself. She knows her mother is lonely.

Percy spends the first six moons of her life in those woods. She and her sisters learn to walk among the thickets, how to avoid the thorns that threaten their paws and which plants caught blister and which soothe. They learn to stalk around the camp sites, especially how to dart in at the right moment to grab a snack before fleeing into the safety of the trees and brambles. Summer turns to fall, and as the trees brown, the two-legs frequent the woods less and less. Soon, she and her siblings learn to catch easy prey, mice.

Their mother tells them about clan cats. She describes powerful warriors who defend their families and homes, with so much territory and bounty that none are ever hungry or sick for long. Even at six moons old, Percy thinks this is too good to be true. She knows hunger and sickness too well to imagine a place where such things are unknown. But from her mother's lips, the world the clans live in sounds beautiful, and she accepts the stories as just that: stories.

She and her sisters grow a little more. Winter comes.

Winter is harsh for a cat like Melina, struggling to find shelter and safety for daughters. She foregoes food so they can eat. She suffers discomfort so they might be warm. And she tells them again about the clans, but this time, she tells them they've been nearby a clan's borders all along. And when both Gooseberry and Melina grow ill, Melina tells them she'll seek aid from these clans, who live such plentiful lives that surely, Percy thinks, they will share with her frail mother.

Days pass. Percy hunts with Pepper with Apricot watches over Gooseberry.

A week passes. Instead of going to hunt, Percy and Pepper find the clan borders. They find where their mother's scent ends in blood, though there is no body to confirm what fate befell her. Still, it's enough for the sisters to agree, when their eyes meet, that she is dead.

When they return, Gooseberry is still, and Apricot is inconsolable.

They're truly alone.

-

Percy knows little of her father. Only bits and pieces, from her mother's tales. He was charming, and dashing, and the reason why Percy and her now two remaining sisters were so strong. But those are not the facts that haunt her mind. Because she can interpret so much more about her father.

He's a villain. A traitor. A selfish bastard who let her mother die, let her sister die, because the clan cats were too selfish to share their prosperity with the rest of the valley, even those whose lives they have tainted. She wants revenge, but she is young. Powerless.

Vengeance has to wait.

In the mean time, she looks after her sisters. They find a barn where strays come and go - adequate shelter for the winter, and more so, a place to call home and build alliances. She waits. She grows. And the hatred inside her festers, seeking outlet.

Outlet comes, moons later, in the form of a white and ginger tom named Foxglove. His appearance is not particularly impressive, but his passion, his call to movement, his sense of justice: those are impressive, and echo her own feelings. She is quick to join his cause. The clans, she agrees, must fall, for there to be true peace and equity in the valley.

Faith cemented in Foxglove's vision, Persimmon is quick to call other cats to their side. It's easy for her to talk others into a cause she believes in. She builds the numbers, builds their anger at the injustice of the mere existence of clans, and Foxglove strategizes, plots, sees the bigger picture. Their numbers grow. She feels unstoppable, if only they could take take initiative and finally push back against "clan" territory. Restless, she's eager for a fight.

But the fight takes time to come.

-

Percy doesn't know her father, but she knows one thing: her father will know her. And when he does, he's dead on his paws, because she will be the last face he ever sees.

Pre-Plotting: Percy fills the role of Persimmon from Summit/Bearclaw's wanted ad. She also fits into the "justice" perspective of the clanless plot and is a staunch supporter of Foxglove's goals and vision. 

Family: Family is complicated. She loves her two living sisters, Apricot and Pepper, but she cares for vengeance more than she cares for listening to their actual needs. And she would kill her father in a heartbeat, if only she knew who he was.
Friends: Percy's friends tend to either be practical, steady cats that in a way subdue her fire, or the exact opposite: instigators that help her rage glow even more brilliantly. Both have a place in her life.
Romance: Some cats are too ready to fight to the death to consider falling in love. 
Rivals: If you are a warrior, you are Percy's rival. If you support the clans, you're pretty dang close to being her rival.