A large, stocky brown and white cat.

-

Spiderleap is a linebacker of a cat. At first glance he seems a better fit for RidgeClan, standing tall and stocky compared to his more dextrous clanmates, with thick, cold resistant fur perfect for living in the mountains. However, despite his hulking size, Spiderleap is just as nimble as his namesake - he's agile and strong, the perfect athlete.

Most of Spiderleap's fur is a medium brown, darkening around his legs, face, and tail, evidence of a point coloration hidden in his more unique pattern. He has a bright, triangular bib of white on his chest, as well as some white on his stomach, hind legs, and chin. His eyes are green, pale enough to pass for gray in some lighting, and he has faint tabby markings where his fur goes from medium to dark brown.

"Look at the brown kit! He's moving around like a jumping spider! Perhaps that should be his name then... Spiderkit."

His name is the perfect fit. Spiderkit moves around the nursery like a cat with too many legs, somehow managing to get into everyone's business even from a young age. Despite his inclination toward trouble, Spiderkit is a nursery-favorite. Queens dote on him. Warriors are eager to take him as an apprentice. Other kits look up to him. He and his brother, Timberkit, are a charming pair of popular, social kits, ones who are eager to start their training.

Though they share a lot of traits, the brothers' differences become clear when they're barely three moons old. Spiderkit is more energetic than his brother - the sort of energy that some say needs to be redirected. He needs more stimulation. More guidance. Timberkit, on the other hand, was born with self-control. Timberkit is also social in a different way. He's a charmer, armed with sweet words and clever wit. Spiderkit, though empathetic, is only charming in his cluelessness.

Spiderkit's best friend in the nursery is a she-kit born just a few days before him named Doekit. She's the only one in her litter, so she's often paired off with Spiderkit and Timberkit, especially as her mother returns to her warrior duties early. Spiderkit is delighted. Having a brother is great - having a brother and a sister is even better! Yet, for whatever reason, the adults always give him weird looks when he calls her his sister. Like they know something he doesn't.

Whatever. As long as Doekit is his friend, he doesn't mind.


Spiderpaw is assigned to Volefang, a gruff tom all the kits fretted over being given as a mentor. His knees only knock a little as he touches noses with the warrior. Later, when he's curled up next to Timberpaw and Doepaw, he says, "I dunno how to talk to him! He's emotionless!"

Timberpaw says, "That's not true." Spiderpaw can't help but feel like his brother is scolding him.

"It might be true," Doepaw says, her eyes wide with superstition. It's the first time Spiderpaw thinks he likes her more than his actual brother. "Spiderpaw, you should ask for a new mentor!"

"You think?"

Timberpaw just sighs.

In the end, Spiderpaw does not ask for a new mentor, too nervous of letting his leader down to make the request. Instead, he busies himself doing everything but train with Volefang. He trains with other warriors. Patrols by himself. Hunts with Doepaw. He think it's lucky that he only sees Volefang every few days, when he can't avoid him. It gives him more time for the new friends he makes in the apprentice den.

The first is Prongpaw, the oldest of the bunch, whose small stature means she often gets lumped in with the younger apprentices. Prongpaw is bubbly in a way Spiderpaw isn't expecting when he first sees the gloomy look on her face. "It's just like that," she says one day. "My face. I look angry, but I'm not." He decides he likes her right away.

His second friend is Brightpaw, a scatterbrained tom not much older than him and Doepaw. Brightpaw is always babbling, so much that Spiderpaw thinks he should be Babblepaw instead. Or at least named after a bird or something! Brightpaw's sister, Dawnpaw, is Spiderpaw's third friend as an apprentice. She's probably the smartest of the bunch (besides Timberpaw, who hangs out with him less and less each day) but often gets roped into Spiderpaw's schemes instead of listening to reason.

It's a good bunch of friends, he decides, even if Timberpaw hangs out with other cats instead.

At eight moons old, Spiderpaw hits a growth spurt that makes his paws hit the ground too heavily, and his head brush the low branches in the forest. He feels clunky and ungainly, different from his friends, who all possess the leanness of most MistClan warriors. Even Timberpaw, his brother, stays small and agile. Spiderpaw wakes up each morning frustrated that he can't keep up, hindered by his size. Desperate, he finally turns to Volefang for training.

"You're ready to start?" His mentor asks, almost looking surprised.

"Start? I started two moons ago."

Volefang shakes his head. "No. You haven't done any real training yet, since you've been avoiding me." Spiderpaw feels hot with shame. "I was just telling Russetstar to delay your ceremony, actually." More shame.

"What!"

"You need six moons of training to be a warrior," Volefang says. "And you've had none."

"That's not fair!"

"What's not fair is you thinking you can earn a name, despite only doing half the work your fellow apprentices have." 

Spiderpaw's ears flatten. He hasn't done half the work. He's been working alongside them! But Volefang doesn't care, he can tell from the unbothered way the warrior looks at his paws, checking each one for cracked or blistered paw pads. "I'll do it in four moons. I swear it."

Volefang turns his unbothered gaze from his claws to Spiderpaw. "Good luck."

It's hard. Volefang trains him twice as much, making up for the moons he "missed," until Spiderpaw rarely has a moment he isn't alongside his surly mentor. He almost never sees his friends, especially when he turns ten moons and Prongpaw turns 12, earning her warrior name: Prongspring. He barely even has a break for family. His mothers adopt Molekit and though he decides he loves her right away, Spiderpaw doesn't really know his adopted sister-cousin. "You asked for this," Timberpaw says, his voice smooth and cool. Spiderpaw hates him for it.

"I didn't," he snaps. His brother shrugs. With a huff, Spiderpaw storms off.

Brightpaw and Dawnpaw earn their warrior names during Spiderpaw's eleventh moon: Brightsplash, for his speed in water, and Dawnstep, for her agility. Spiderpaw is overjoyed for his friends but can't help the anxiety that nags in the back of his mind. Next moon, Doepaw and Timberpaw will be named warriors. Their mentors have already planned their assessments, and Timberpaw was even scouted for weaver training. Volefang has said nothing about Spiderpaw's progress, even when Spiderpaw presses. "I stopped growing so fast," he says, trying to defend himself. He stands taller than his mentor now. It makes his words feel flat. "And I figured out how to stalk prey quietly."

"Not quietly enough," Volefang says, still unimpressed. "I'm counting your prey. You don't bring as much back as Timberpaw."

"Ugh!" Spiderpaw groans later that evening, when it's just him and Doepaw in the apprentice den. "I don't get it. He hates me."

"He's just trying to make you a good warrior," Doepaw says. Spiderpaw buries his face in her flank, wishing he had her mentor instead. "Maybe you could do something to impress him?"

"Impossible."

"Impress Russetstar, maybe?"

That would be easier, if only because Russetstar wasn't Volefang. "Did'ja have something in mind?"

Doepaw's plan is simple. As part of her assessments, she has a morning patrol scheduled with Russetstar. But it was easy to fake being sick, mostly because she'd never done it before, and after a brief chat with her mentor, Spiderpaw is placed on the patrol instead. At first it's strange, patrolling alone with the leader. But Russetstar is full of stories, and by the time they reach the border, Spiderpaw couldn't imagine ever feeling awkward around Russetstar again. "I look forward to your assessments," Russetstar says when they return to camp.

"Soon, right?"

Russetstar nods. "In two moons." Spiderpaw feels every bone in his body go soft. As if he felt it too, Russetstar frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"I wanna be named with my brother," Spiderpaw says "And Doepaw. But Volefang hates me."

"Volefang does not hate you. But you are behind your peers."

"I'm not," Spiderpaw insists. "I'm stronger than Timberpaw, faster than Dawnstep, I can climb higher than Doepaw, and I swim better than Brightsplash."

"Do you really?"

"...maybe not that last one." His leader laughs, a joyful sound, before looking contemplative.

"Very well. Let me watch you these next few days." Russetstar keeps his word. He watches Spiderpaw train with the other apprentices. They go on more patrols together. He oversees a sparring match, then an assessment, and as Spiderpaw nears his twelfth moon, Russetstar pulls him aside to tell him he'll be named with his brother. "You were right," he says. "You haven't fallen behind."

"Volefang hates-"

"Volefang is not paying attention," Russetstar interrupts. "But he doesn't hate you." His tone tells Spiderpaw not to press. Briefly, he worries his immaturity might make Russetstar change his mind.

"Thank you, Russetstar."

And, as promised, Spiderpaw becomes a warrior alongside Timbersong and Doewing. He's named Spiderleap, for his athleticism. He wears the name with pride.


Knowing from a young age that neither historian or weaver training were for him, Spiderleap jumps into his warrior duties with hearty enthusiasm. Earning his name at twelve moons, despite having a mentor who didn't want him to, sends a rush of ego to his head. It doesn't come from a place of malice, just dumb sincerity. Of course he'll be one of MistClan's best warriors. Determined not to let Russetstar down, Spiderleap turns his attention to a new goal: getting an apprentice while he's still young.

In the warrior den, he's reunited with his friends, and the group is quick to forge a reputation for themselves. All of them excel in their physical skills - they're practically athletes, especially in the more studious, peaceful culture of MistClan's camp. And as they train together, continuing to grow as young warriors, that athleticism only increases.

They have another reputation, too. One that's less kind, but also less known. "Blessed with brawn," some MistClan warriors say, watching the group meander through life. "But not brains."

At twenty moons old a litter reaches their six moon mark. Spiderleap is confident Russetstar will assign one to him. Why else would they have spent so much time together lately? They've been on a patrol together every morning for nearly a week, and today, the morning before the kits are named, Spiderleap is sure Russetstar is delivering the good news. "I'm thinking about retiring," he says, and Spiderleap stops in his tracks.

"...what?"

"Birchclaw and I want to enjoy our remaining moons together. We won't retire immediately, but soon. Maybe by new-leaf?"

Spiderleap shakes his head. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I want your opinion on my replacement."

"My opinion?"

Russetstar wears a look that Spiderleap knows well, because he sees it on his leader's face all the time. He wishes he understood it, though. Not just recognized it. "Why not?"

"I don't think you should ever retire," Spiderleap says, honest. "Birchclaw might need to, though." Russetstar laughs at that, and Spiderleap feels a little better. 

"I had this idea of young warriors taking over the leadership," Russetstar says after they resumed walking. "To ensure the clan was in the next generation's hands." Spiderleap tilts his head. It almost sounded like... "I'm not asking you to replace me." Oh. Right. "I thought about asking how you felt about being deputy, though. You'd be a popular choice."

Deputy. Spiderleap's response rushes out in a barely intelligible heap. "I haven't had an apprentice yet," he says.

Russetstar nods. "You haven't. More than that, though, Birchclaw told me the new leader should pick their deputy, not me. I suppose he's right." Oh. Yeah. That makes sense, Spiderleap thinks. "I'm sorry. Did I get your hopes up? I was just being honest."

"Only a little," Spiderleap says. "But s'okay. I thought you were giving me an apprentice, not this."

"An apprentice? You're such a young warrior..."

But not too young for deputy? It's the first and only time Spiderleap sees a crack in the steel trap that makes up Russetstar's mind. In the end, he's not given an apprentice. Prongspring is, though - a chatty she-cat named Dustypaw, who fits into the group's dynamic with ease. Spiderleap is endlessly fond of her, and Prongspring is quick to share the role of mentor with him. It's enough, at least for now.

Doewing pulls him aside one rainy evening, both of them recently 23 moons old. She hems and haws for a long while, and Spiderleap briefly thinks of all the times his mothers implied things about him and Doewing, or the one time Timbersong snarked at him for "stealing" Doewing away. All their lives, he thought they were battling accusations of mateship together. Didn't it defeat the purpose if Doewing confessed to him?

Except, that's not what she does. "I'm pregnant," she says, voice high and reedy. "I can't tell you who the father is."

"Okay," he says, and promises her it's not a secret she has to share. She thanks him profusely, and the two sleep outside camp that night, tucked together under an oak's thick boughs. "Do you love him?"

"Oh yes," Doewing says. Spiderleap can see it in her eyes - it's a fondness he sees between mates all the time, like in his mothers. "But, I can't see him until they're born. He doesn't know."

"Shouldn't you tell him?" Doewing shakes her head, and all Spiderleap can do is trust her. Two moons later, she gives birth to a single healthy kit: Fennelkit, Spiderleap's new pride and joy. Everyone assumes he's the father, no matter how much Doewing or him denies it. After a while, they stop trying.


Hailfall becomes Hailstar in new-leaf, shortly after Fennelkit's birth. Spiderleap isn't sure what to think. Hailstar is younger than him - not by much, but enough to make that conversation with Russetstar sting just a little. He's in luck, though. Helping Doewing raise Fennelkit means he rarely has time to think about it, especially with his warrior duties increasing the older he gets. Dustypaw becomes Dustyflower, for her gift of gab, and Brightsplash and Dawnstep both take apprentices of their own - twin black cats called Starlingpaw and Snakepaw.

Like with Dustypaw, Spiderleap steps in to help his friends train their apprentices. But next thing he knows, Fennelkit becomes Fennelpaw, and after an awkward conversation with Hailstar on whether or not he really is Fennelpaw's father, Spiderleap is assigned as her mentor.

The world explodes with color. Spiderleap is filled with pride beyond what he's ever known, finally having an apprentice of his own. Fennelpaw seems equally thrilled. They train together every day, a far different connection that what Spiderleap had with Volefang, and Fennelpaw proudly introduces him to all her friends. "This is Spiderleap. My mentor."

Later, he realizes what he missed - that every time Fennelpaw introduced him as such, what she really meant was father. Her father. He wishes he was her father. Wishes he didn't make those mistakes. But at 31 moons, those mistakes haven't happened yet, and Spiderleap is just happy to have an apprentice as excited about him as he is about her.

"RidgeClan," Doewing admits one day, the two of them patrolling together as Fennelpaw runs ahead. "Her father's from RidgeClan."

"Ah." No wonder Doewing couldn't say who it was. "That's okay." He's not sure if it is, really. Didn't Doewing break the code? But his friend looks fragile when she says it, and Spiderleap can't bring himself to hurt her any further. He wonders if she really, really loved whoever it was. He wonders if she'll leave MistClan for him. Leave him.

Fennelpaw is a good apprentice. She's spunky, like her mother, and doesn't seem to have a single trace of whoever her biological father might be. He keeps it to himself, but sometimes, at gatherings, Spiderleap watches every RidgeClan tom, wondering if he could see the shape of Fennelpaw's jaw in any of them. The color of her eyes. The excited quiver of her tail before she makes an announcement. 

He's not clever enough to piece it together, he knows, but it doesn't stop him from trying.

Fennelpaw isn't the only child in his life. It's around this time Timbersong takes a mate, Ivyleaf, who seems quieter than the type Spiderleap thinks his brother would normally go for, but he doesn't like to judge. Ivyleaf seems sweet enough. And he loves her kits, his niblings. Squirrelkit and Possumkit light up his life just as much as Fennelpaw does. "It's time for you to start thinking about these things," Timbersong tells him one day, when he's visiting the couple in the nursery. Ivyleaf makes a noise like she's not ready to involve herself in this conversation.

"Yeah?" Spiderleap says, watching Possumkit try to wrestle her sibling. The kits aren't even a moon old. It's a silly attempt. "I think about it sometimes."

"You and Doewing could become official."

He sighs. "Timber, c'mon. You know it's not like that."

His brother studies him. "Fennelpaw isn't yours?"

"Not literally," he says. "Not, like, biologically. But she's kind of mine."

A moment passes, then Timbersong nods. "Yes. Kind of yours."

When he was younger, Spiderleap thought the proudest day of his life was being named alongside his brother and Doewing. All that work he did finally paid off. But now he has a new day to bask in. Fennelpaw is named Fennelstrike at 12 moons old, standing boldly under a bright new-leaf sun that burned away all the mist, leaving a spotlight on MistClan's newest warrior.

Spiderleap cries about it. Happy tears, he tells his peers around him. He's just so damn happy.


It's said every MistClan cat, in retrospect, knows the moment the tree fell. Spiderleap agrees. When he closes his eyes, he can still feel the vibration of the tree echoing through the forest. It makes his teeth ache. He's 38 moons old when RidgeClan attacks, led by a leader with stars in his eyes and madness in his heart.

At least - that's how Timbersong describes it later. Spiderleap doesn't have the mind for pretty words like that.

He fights, fiercer than any other cat, or at least that's how it feels to him. He tears through RidgeClan warriors like they're nothing but web between branches. Some of them look just as mad as Wolfstar. Others look frightened. There's a moment where he nearly kills a silver tom, some poor warrior whose attention was locked on one of his clanmates, maybe his mate. It's the love he sees there that makes him stop. Instead, he maims the poor soul, then drags the limp body away from the worst of the fighting.

When he returns, he sees blood-covered claws reach back to lash at Fennelstrike. It's a killing blow. Fennelstrike is dazed, her belly exposed. Spiderleap, with all he has, knocks himself into the RidgeClan warrior until he falls back, giving Fennelstrike the moment she needs to get back to her feet. "Thanks," she stammers out, stepping closer as if to press her nose to Spiderleap. She doesn't connect the gesture. Instead, her eyes go wide.

Spiderleap has pushed the RidgeClan warrior away.

Right into Doewing's path.

He watches his best friend die in slow motion.

Fennelstrike watches her mother's blood soak the earth.


A world he once saw in color fades to black and white the moment Doewing dies. He buries her alongside every other clanmate murdered by RidgeClan. Loss, grief, anger - he knows these emotions are inside him, clawing their way to the surface. But he just feels so numb. Each time he comes close to feeling something, it's washed away by the somber realization that Doewing won't be there to soothe him. 

He doesn't speak to his friends. Prongspring tries, she really does, but after the first few days it seems clear to everyone that what Spiderleap needs is to just... be alone. To process things on his own terms, until he's ready to talk to someone else.

Fennelstrike doesn't realize this.

"You killed her," she hisses, startling Spiderleap out of his misery. "You pushed that warrior over to her and killed her."

"Wh- no. It's not like that."

"It is." Such ferocity in her voice.

...was she right?

"It's not," he says, but his voice dies as he speaks, and Fennelstrike only seems angrier.

"I thought you loved her," she says. "You were her mate!"

Oh no. "I - I wasn't," he says, fumbling through the words. "She - no, we weren't like that."

Fennelstrike doesn't hear him. "I hate you. You were supposed to protect her!"

"I'm supposed to protect you-"

"I wish you weren't my dad." Oh, no. "I hate you."

Spiderleap shakes his head, anxiety clawing at his throat. "No, wait, I'm not your father. Doewing wasn't my mate." Ancestors, why did everyone believe this? Did Doewing tell Fennelstrike this? There's still anger in Fennelstrike's eyes, but she quiets just for a moment, as if to give him space to explain himself. "Your father's a RidgeClan cat," he says. "Not me."

Fennelstrike goes still. "What?"

"Yeah. Doewing loved him. The RidgeClan cat. They were trying to be together." He didn't know that, but it felt like the right thing to say. "I'm just your mentor. Er. Was your mentor."

It's a long moment before Fennelstrike speaks again. "I'm only half-MistClan?" Spiderleap nods. "I'm... one of them?" The word is steeped in venom. Dread climbs up his spine, unable to fathom what was going on in Fennelstrike's head. "I... Damn you." The words are spat. Spiderleap thinks he deserves them. "Damn you. Why couldn't you just lie to me?"

Should he have? "I-"

"I thought you were my father." Fennelstrike is crying now. Spiderleap steps forward to comfort her, but she's quick to walk back. "But you're nothing to me."

Oh, StarClan. "Fennelstrike, I-"

"Don't talk to me." She's hissing again, emotion much more raw with tears choking her words. "Ever again. Murderer." And then she's gone, leaving Spiderleap stunned in place.

It takes him several moons before he tells someone about the conversation. Prongspring tells Fennelstrike off. Brightsplash tries to comfort him. Dawnstep takes him on long walks, something to keep his mind off things. None of it works - at least, none of it brings Fennelstrike back. Slowly, Spiderleap starts to feel like himself again. But he'll always feel the gash that Fennelstrike left.

Two season after Wolfstar's attack, Dawnstep pulls him aside to confide in him. "I don't feel safe in the clans," she admits, and Spiderleap feels his stomach drop. "What if it happens again?"

"It won't," he promises.

"I met someone." Dawnstep looks toward the border. "A barn cat. He says we could go live with him."

"We?"

"You, me, Brightsplash, and Prongspring," she says. "All of us. Dustyflower, too, if she wants." Spiderleap shakes his head, confused. "Oh, please."

"I... I'll walk you there, Dawn. But I'm not leaving the clan."

True to his word, Spiderleap escorts Dawnstep to the barn. It's heartbreak, losing another friend, but the heartbreak doesn't last long. Dawnstep returns two moons later - swollen with kits. She explains her story like she's rehearsed it. The tom who invited her to the barn sired the kits, only to die a few days later, caught by a monster when he wandered too close to the twolegs. Dawnstep wasn't grieving like she loved him, Spiderleap can tell. But she is grieving for her kits, and the father they'll never know.

He's been here before. 

But before he can volunteer to help, Prongspring does. "I always had a thing for Dawnstep," she admits with a shrug, just the two of them patrolling outside camp. "I'll play mom to her kits. We'll see what happens."

He hopes, for their sake, love can bloom there.

Dawnstep names the children for their barn heritage: Barleykit and Oatkit, and Spiderleap finds comfort in being their goofy uncle.

At 48 moons, his mother, Feathercloud, dies. Spiderleap is used to grief at this point. It doesn't make the loss any easier, but at least death of old age is a peaceful way to go. He grieves with his family in comfort. At least, as much comfort as one can find in loss. He lingers in the mourning for longer than he thinks necessary, letting good memories of Feathercloud fill his head. If he thinks about her, it's hard to think about anything else.

Eventually, he has to return to the waking world.


His mother's death leaves him with more questions than he wants to think about, but it's all put on hold when the Kingdom is created. Spiderleap isn't surprised when Fennelstrike leaves, one of the first MistClan warriors to follow Laurelfern's pawsteps. He is hurt. The two haven't spoken since their fight but there was comfort in sharing a clan - comfort in knowing he could keep an eye on her.

So desperate to know she's well, he nearly goes after her, willing to become a Kingdom cat himself. Brightsplash talks him out of it. "Dawnstep needs you," he says. "Her kits are nearly apprentices." Spiderleap's throat goes dry at the thought of training Oatkit or Barleykit, but he can't begin to describe his feelings to Brightsplash.

Did he really deserve to train another friend's kit? Wouldn't he just mess it up, like he did with Fennelstrike? Maybe it would be better to follow Timbersong's lead, and find someone to start a family with. Or maybe he's too old for any of that. "What's on your mind?" Brightsplash asks him, the two of them walking back from leaf-bare's last gathering.

"Too much," Spiderleap admits. "I'm not cut out for all this thinking, y'know?

"Yeah, bud. I know."

Pre-Plotting: Spiderleap's beliefs vacillate between Branches and Bark in the MistClan plot adoptables. His size and athleticism has led him to view himself as a first line of defense for MistClan. He wants to be the wall that dangers have to crash through before they can hurt his clan again. At the same time, his good nature means he's inclined to being welcoming and friendly, and so he often agrees with his clanmates who want to foster good relationships between all factions in the forest.

Additionally, he's Curlycloud's son and comes from her wanted ad.

Family: Spiderleap is a big family man, to the point where he takes his own family for granted. He expects they'll always be there, why wouldn't they be? And so, unintentionally, he can end up being a little distant from them, not taking the extra steps necessary to maintain strong relationships. Since his mother died, Spiderleap has finally started to realize his mistakes (most notably with his brother), and is trying to invest in his family relationships before it's too late.

Friends: Though at times Spiderleap has the same problem with friends that he does family, he's overall been better at maintaining strong connections with his friends, particularly his inner circle. He's the best sort of friend to have, if you don't mind him being clueless enough to not always pick up on social cues. 

Romance: In Spiderleap's ideal world, he and all his friends enter a large polycule where he can be very platonically involved with all of them. He likes the idea of romance, but feels like that ship has sailed - he's too old to figure out how to flirt, or navigate a relationship, or deal with crushes. He'd rather just take care of his friends and their families.

Rivals: Spiderleap is very prone to internalizing what he thinks others think of him. It's not often he thinks people dislike him or think little of him, but when it does happen, it makes him withdraw and get sad, rather than hold grudges. He does have a personal grudge against Doewing's mystery mate, though he knows those feelings will forever be without an outlet.