Kithood Oriolekit was born second of three to parents Nightfeather and Olivebird. The pair were not in love, rather founding a family out of necessity and loyalty to the clan. They were strong cats, and their kits would help ensure Mistclan's survival. They were pleased that all three children inherited their father's large size. Her brothers were Houndkit, the firstborn and biggest of the litter, and Tornkit, a runtier tabby with a half-missing tail.

Being the sole daughter and the one who most resembled their mother of the three, the expectations of Oriolekit were always lower than her siblings. Nightfeather attempted to show her how to weave from a young age, but she was never good at it—her big paws were too clumsy, and she would accidentally shred the leaves she practiced on with her claws. Her mother quickly gave up on trying to teach her.

Oriolekit learned from the start that her parents weren't really going to be there for her. While other kits were being coddled or told stories by their mothers, hers left in the morning to do her duties and came back late at night. Sometimes even after her children had already gone to sleep. Houndkit, the seemingly most promising of the trio, was taken under the wing of a young warrior who filled his parental void.

The other two were not given the same guidance. The kits still had each other, playing tag and reenacting elders stories were their favorite pastimes. While Tornkit grew rebellious and bold, Oriolekit was obedient and cautious. When her parents first told her about the warrior code, she took to it like a fish to water. She was always chiding Tornkit when his suggestions broke the rules, but she had a soft spot for her brother she didn't have for the other kits.

Apprenticehood By the time she was six moons, Oriolekit was ready to get out of the nursery. Her litter had long overgrown their nest in the den, and she was ready to explore and prove herself as capable as her brothers. She and Houndpaw were named together, but Tornkit had been held back on bad behavior. Upon finding this out, Oriolepaw asked to be sent back with him—but she hadn't misbehaved, and this was a lesson to send to her sibling, not her.

Besides, she'd already been given a mentor. Waterstrike was a nondescript warrior, a good fighter, bigger than most Mistclanners like Oriolepaw was. She'd never met him before she became his apprentice, but he quickly became her favorite cat. He was what the other apprentices might call strict—but she liked his honesty. Her mentor cared less than she did for the warrior code, and got her to loosen up a little.

And under his guidance she became a pretty dang good fighter. Her big paws that hurt her weaving skills were assets in battle. So was her size—she was growing big enough to rival a Ridgeclan cat. She had this in common with Houndpaw, and the two became closer as they sparred together. Oriolepw lost to her brother as frequently as she won, but she likes to think she bested him just a few more times than he, her.

Tornpaw finally joins them when they're seven moons, and Oriolepaw is quick to catch him up in all the fighting moves she's learned. He'd been practicing too, and surprised her a few times. He fought dirty—not the way she'd been taught, pulling on her tail and distracting her to catch her off guard. But eventually she learned his tactics, and became a better fighter for it. She never tried out the same underhanded strategies as him, but didn't see anything wrong with it.

Houndpaw, though, seemed to take issue. He said he'd seen the way Tornpaw killed prey, and was worried about him—wasn't that just what warriors did? She insisted he would be fine, he just had a different way of doing things than they did. She didn't think Houndpaw understood Tornpaw like she did. He'd never played as much as she did with him. So she suggested that if he was so worried, he should spend more time with his brother. She didn't expect him to actually take her advice.

It felt strange seeing her brothers together, especially as Tornpaw started passing up sparring with her to spar with him. It ignited something in her, an awful thing she hated but couldn't help but feel. Jealousy. She brushed it aside and put herself into her training. Tornpaw would realize that she's a much better opponent than Houndpaw soon.

Days turned to moons, and though she did hang out with Tornpaw, that bitterness never left. She honestly preferred to spend time with Waterstrike, even though he'd become more paws-off with her training as she grew older. She noticed him giving her more free days than other mentors would, and sometimes when he took her out to train, strange smells clung to his pelt.

Oriolepaw chose to ignore it. She trusted him. Besides, she and Houndpaw were almost warriors now, with Tornpaw not far behind. She was a little worried for her brother because he tended to wander into the forest on his own, and recently another apprentice—Goosepaw—had been killed by a falling branch when he was out alone. She mentioned this to him, but he brushed it aside. He was far stronger than Goosepaw, he wouldn't get killed by some tree.

Warriorhood Oriolemask is named for her facial markings, and Houndjaw presumably for his strong bite. Tornpaw remains an apprentice, but Oriolemask notices her brother doesn't seem to care too much. At least, not when he's around her. He treats her the same as before, but never slips up and calls her by her old name—which even she sometimes does with Houndjaw.

She finds herself a little aimless, with her closest friend still stuck up in training. In Tornpaw's stead she finds herself making friends with a weaver a few moons her senior, Wolfclaw. He is big like her, but manages to fade into the background almost like it's a skill. A surprisingly good fighter, but he preferred to take care of Mistclan's camp and forest rather than do harm.

Oriolemask does convince him to spar with her, and in turn agrees to let him teach her weaving and about plants. He is patient even when she makes mistakes or gets frustrated, and she finds herself enjoying it more than she thought she would. She comes to rely on Wolfclaw, enjoying his steady nature that she'd never really had in a friend before.

Torntail joins her as a warrior at fourteen moons. She introduces him to Wolfclaw, and though she can't tell what exactly the toms think of each other, the three have fun hanging out. Torntail tells them both about his desire to become deputy, and Oriolemask thought it was... not a bad idea, but not really a good one either. She didn't tell him this, though. It's not like he would actually become deputy.

They hadn't even had apprentices yet, for goodness sake! She told him to wait until he'd been a mentor, otherwise the leader wouldn't even entertain it anyway. He scoffed at her and told her that rule was dumb and outdated, to which they argued the importance of the code. This fractured their relationship a little, Torntail spending more time alone while she got closer with Wolfclaw.

Only a moon or two later Wolfclaw wakes her early one morning, saying the dawn patrol found something. A clearing, drenched in blood and rogue scent. And... and Torntail's body. They smelled some of Houndjaw's blood there too, but his body hadn't been found. The patrol assumed the rogue had killed him too. Oriolemask was in shock. Losing both her brothers in one fell swoop... she barely ate, she barely slept. She vowed that she would find their murderer, no matter what it took.

She spent many a night patrolling Mistclan's border, frequenting the spot where her brother's body had been found. Sometimes Wolfclaw would come with her, and he was the only one who could get her to eat and rest. Not even her parents, even as their sole child, could get through to her. She remembers those weeks as a haze in her memory, up until she actually stumbled upon someone.

But it wasn't what she'd been looking out for. On a whim, she follows her old mentor out of camp. She'd intended to ask him to help look with her, but Waterstrike was acting... odd. Oriolemask follows him to the border, where she finds a strange cat waiting for him. They touch noses, they exchange friendly words. The smell of rogue washes over her.

Oriolemask confronts Waterstrike immediately, accusing him of traitorous behavior, fraternizing with a rogue when their borders were threatened by them every day! He explained that this was his friend, and they'd never do such a thing. Oriolemask isn't listening. She's already racing back to camp.

It's his rank and lack of prior rule-breaks that saves him. She doesn't have any concrete evidence, and nobody believes her. Not when she's been acting so strange ever since her brothers died. Maybe it was a dream, or maybe she was just imagining things. There was no way a good warrior like Waterstrike would do something like that, it didn't make sense. The rejection only solidified her surety of what he'd done.

She returns to the borders to look for evidence. But instead of a rogue, she finds a ghost. Houndjaw... ragged and tired, but alive. Oriolemask thought for sure she really was seeing things, but he was real. She tackled him in a hug, told him the whole clan thought he was dead, that a rogue had killed him like Torntail, and that he had to come back with her. They'd be so happy to see him. Their parents would be so happy to see he was still alive.

But he didn't seem to share the enthusiasm she did. He explained that the rogue was hunting him down, that he wouldn't be safe in Mistclan. That he planned to join Prairieclan. His eyes had a haunted look, and Oriolemask was too stunned to argue. And so her brother disappeared back into the night, only the faint scent of him as evidence that he was ever there.

It wasn't until later that she really thought it over. Why would he leave? She could protect him. Their clan could protect him. He was a strong cat, she'd never seen her brother scared before. What was he afraid of? Why was he afraid...? Unless... he was guilty. It made sense. Houndjaw had never liked Torntail. So he'd killed him, and now he was running away rather than face what he did.

He may as well be dead to her.

The revelation of one brother killing the other nearly ruined her. It was worse than when she thought they were both dead. The only little bit of light was her new apprentice, Poppypaw. She and Wolfclaw had been given siblings to mentor. Poppypaw was a little odd, but sweet and eager. She was why Oriolemask got out of her nest in the morning, and she made her laugh with all her silly antics and questions.

She takes Poppypaw to her first gathering, and happens to see Houndjaw there. He looks... happy. He's sitting next to a lanky tortoiseshell tom. It makes her sick, to see him sitting so unaffected. When Mistclan leaves she sends Poppypaw ahead with her sister, circling back to confront Houndjaw. She tells him she knows what he'd done. And that she'll prove everyone that it was him that did it.

He doesn't even try to argue. He doesn't try to tell her it was a rogue that killed Torntail. He just looks guilty, scared even, and maybe a little bit sad. Oriolemask doesn't sleep well that night, nor does she most nights. She wandered the territory instead, learning all the pathways and hiding places, keeping an eye out for strange happenings.

She's out in the forest when she hears the thunder of paws through the undergrowth. Far too many cats for the middle of the night. Far too loud to only be a Mistclan patrol. Before she can make it back to camp, her clan is being attacked by Ridgeclan. She fights harder than she'd ever fought before. She uses her weight to hold back sizeable enemy warriors, and her heavy blows to stun them.

But it's not enough. All she can see is blood, Mistclan blood. It's a miracle that Prairieclan shows up to turn the tide. She doesn't know why—Mistclan cats should mean nothing to them. Why would they help? In the middle of battle, she sees a familiar coat. One she hadn't seen in a while. One that haunts her dreams. Houndjaw. He'd come back to fight for them.

He was standing over a motionless Ridgeclanner, paws stained with his lifeblood. Even if it was an enemy, it sickened her, to see another cat felled at his paws. Was that how he looked when he killed Torntail? Did he do it with the same ease? Weak and battered after the fight, she found him before Prairieclan left. "How was it to take another life?" Houndjaw didn't respond. He just stared at her.

Oriolemask wakes up after the battle, still tasting blood. Her front right paw throbs with pain, and so does her head. She remembers that it had been bit and she'd felt something crack. Thank the Stars that Wolfclaw is still alive. But she learns that... her father didn't make it. Olivebird was one of the many bodies found dead. He'd died protecting his clan, something he'd find honor in, at the very least. It gave her little peace.

Poppypaw was also missing. Wolfclaw said he'd seen her during the battle, but her body was not among the fallen. Losing her hurts more than any wound. It takes a long time for Oriolemask to recover, just as it does many cats. She's troubled with splitting headaches and insomnia. Her front paw is barely able to carry her weight. She finds herself helping Wolfclaw around camp while she heals.

But however much it hurts, she always itches to be out in the territory. She wonders what she is missing. She chides herself for getting hurt and leaving the borders unwatched by her keen eyes. Her nighttime wanderings resume again as soon as she is able, when she can't get to sleep she patrols the territory. Usually the worst she finds are foxes and owls, but once she hears a distant scream.

She almost dismisses it as another owl call at first, but the longer she dwells on it the more she realizes it sounded like a cat. Oriolemask moved through the underbrush towards where she'd heard the noise, hindered by her injured paw, but making headway nonetheless. The tortoiseshell runs into a midnight patrol and tells them of the sound, guiding them to its source.

She is the first one to break through the bushes and see young warrior Creeklily standing over the body of newly-named Silktuft. The scene reeked of blood and garlic. Creeklily was breathing heavily, and Silktuft was not breathing at all. It didn't feel like she was in control as she spoke. As if a ghost possessed her body, as if she was watching from above in the treetops. "Oh Starclan, what happened? What did you do, Creeklily?"

There was no other explanation. She'd been caught red-pawed, at the scene of the crime. Creeklily was the murderer. Finally, at last, Oriolemask's tireless surveillance had found a traitor in Mistclans midst. And she was going to make sure that traitor got what she deserved. She wasn't going to fail again.

Creeklily tried to convince the clan that it was not her that killed Silktuft but a rogue—a rogue?! She'd heard this before. It was how Houndjaw had gotten away with killing her brother. At least he had left them afterwards, nor did try to deny it. Creeklily thought she'd been smart by hiding her scent with garlic. But she wasn't going to let the molly fool her. Oriolemask knew what she had done.

She was sure the others thought the same, until Alderbranch showed up with a tiny piece of evidence that turned the whole situation upside down. A long, white clump of fur found in the bushes near where Silktuft had died. Smelling of garlic, and obviously not from the coat of Creeklily. There... there had been another cat involved? Oriolemask was wrong?

She didn't believe it, but the rest of the clan did. Or at the very least, it was enough to convince Hailstar of Creeklily's "innocence." A murderer allowed to remain in their clan, sleep in their dens, share their prey. She'd failed again. But it wasn't the end. She'd find something indisputable, proving that Creeklily truly was the monster Oriolemask knew she was.

It wouldn't be long before she betrayed the clan again, and Oriolemask would watch her like a hawk until then. But the moons came and went, and she never found anything. Wolfclaw did his best to distract her, but she was always listless. All she cared about was finding something that would finally prove she was right all along. That she wasn't crazy. That her work wasn't all for nothing.

But it never came. The fire in her faded to embers without anything for it to burn. Nightfeather began to spend more time with her, which she slowly began to enjoy. She wasn't used to being the center of her mother's attention, but it felt nice. Her mother soothed her, said she was proud of all she'd done, that she couldn't wait for Oriolemask to find a mate and become a mother.

Oriolemask hadn't... ever thought about that. She wasn't opposed to kits, no, the idea of raising cats for Mistclan brought warmth and pride to her chest. But a mate...? She'd never imagined herself with any tom. She didn't swoon over them like some of the other mollies did. Her mother explained that she hadn't, either. She'd picked Olivebird because he was strong and good, and that was all her daughter need find in a mate.

She told her mother she'd think about it, but was distracted by a recent tragedy. A young queen's kits had vanished into the night. Irisfrost had simply woken up and they were gone. No warrior could find any sign of them. Oriolemask knew that it must've been someone in Mistclan... a predator would not have been able to infiltrate the nursery without being noticed. And who could be more suspect than Creeklily?

She wouldn't let that traitor get away with it this time.

Pre-Plotting: Oriolemask is Houndjaw's sister, and also fills the role of prosecution from Creeklily's adopts. In terms of clan adoptables, she is a mix of both roots and bark. A staunch traditionalist, and distrusting of the other clans, she believes Mistclan is best off alone and relying only on themselves. She is prepared to protect her clan from threats outside but especially inside their borders. Oriolemask is not afraid to challenge her own clanmates loyalty to the clan—everyone knows diseased boughs must be cut off for the overall health of the tree.

Family: The only family member Oriolemask was close with was her brother Torntail, and he's dead. She views her friend Wolfclaw as more of a brother than Houndjaw, her remaining blood sibling. She has shown no interest in starting a family of her own, despite enjoying young cats, the idea of settling down with a tom makes her stomach turn. With the right cat, though, she'd certainly come around.

Friends: The nature of Oriolemask's personality means she doesn't make many friends. She's honest to a fault, takes clan business very seriously, and is hard to gain the trust of. But to those few who have wormed their way into her heart, they see a different side of her than the wider clan does. A cat who is hurt, searching for someone to blame and a way to fix things or even prevent them from ever happening again.

Romance: The only reason Oriolemask isn't interested in romance is because she sees toms as the only option. It has not really occurred to her that mollies are also an option, since her mother's been pushing toms on her since she became a warrior. Romance would most likely blossom out of a friendship, but either way any cat who captures the tortie's heart will find her a protective, attentive lover.

Rivals: It's far easier for Oriolemask to make enemies than friends. Her quickness to judge combined with her general prickliness makes many cats immediately dislike her. And she is just as quick to find a reason to make someone else her adversary. She considers most cats outside of Mistclan, as well as those who she believes have betrayed her clan in any way, her enemies.