Describe your character's appearance here, in paragraph form. Provide at least one paragraph. This section will automatically resize and have a scrollbar once it reaches a certain height.

[CW: temporary parental abandonment, poor mother-kit relationships, chronic fatigue, gloomy thought patterns, local workaholic mother refuses to see her kit is unwell, living in the shadow of the dead, being a bystander to bullying]



Everyone grieves differently.

That’s what some of the other parents in the nursery told you, while you hopped from nest to nest - while Wolverineflame was out on a night patrol more often than not.

Are you an orphan? Other kits ask, occassionally, and you honestly aren’t sure how to answer. Because, truly, you don't have a sire and your mother...

“Mother?” She doesn’t answer, so you try to shuffle around to peer up her face - the clearing is full of laughing, shrieking kits playing, so maybe she didn’t hear you. “Mom?”

Still, nothing; in fact, she moves forward without a glance down. You frown, sitting - confusion curls in your chest. Grief is… being sad. Typically about someone that’s no longer here.

Who is she grieving? Should you be grieving too?

“Wolverineflame?” It’s a mouthful of a name, but one you’ve heard enough in the nursery to understand it belongs to the molly who brought you into the world; either way, she pauses. The rigidness of her frame is… discomforting to see. It makes you, irrationally, wish you’d kept your mouth shut.

Then, after casting you a look – a haunted kind of glance that you will become all too familiar with in the moons to come – she continues on. Her tail slips out of the camp entrance before today’s kit-sitter comes to collect you.

Don’t take it personally, she tells you -

But how can you not?

---

You are truly an energetic kit.

Your playmates vary, from day to day, based on where you slept the night before – the litters you snuggled with were the easiest to follow around. There were games of tag, mossball, and play-pretend; mossball is a personal favorite, because there’s something about its versatility that draws you. Newer parents prefer older kits to play tag and rough-house outside, in the camp clearing, and mossball can be played anywhere – on days where the weather drives everyone inside, a more subtle version of the game is really all you can play around the tinier newborns.

“This is boring.”

It’s the only warning you get to duck, before the mossball shoots past your head; it hits someone behind you, but that’s the least of your concerns when your companion of the day - Riverkit - comes stamping off. He nudges you roughly, but, then again, everything the tom-kit does is rough. You squint at him, frowning, but let him bully you to your paws anyway.

Riverkit is… not someone you’d choose to play with most days; most kits in the nursery, too, tend to only be able to handle him in small doses. But, lately, you’ve found yourself in his family’s nest more and more often (probably because there’s more room in there, considering he’s an only kit himself). He toes the line of mean and teasing, of rough and cruel a bit too finely, and is unapologetic for who he is. He’s a big grouch too, so altogether the bigger tom-kit tends to get his way more often than not…

Though, you suppose, as he leans heavily on your flank, that he does compromise more often than not (even if you’re sure that is the case because his father, Roachstone, is always watching). He has a strong preference for wrestling, followed closely by tag and really only wants to play games where he can get physical with his playmates; however, he does try to combine his preference with that of others. On the rare occasions you two have played, it’s always been an amalgamation of mossball and roughhousing where you have to tackle and fight for the ball at every opportunity. Other times, you’ve seen him add battles to roleplaying games…

So he’s not that bad, you decide, flopping limply over at a hard prod from your playmate. Riverkit yelps, toppling over you when your support vanishes. You giggle and consider taking advantage, but then he’s rolling over onto you.

“The brave guardian, Riverhawk, will not be so easily defeated!” His voice is a squeaky, crackling battle cry that makes you snort.

“What a dork!” You crow, twisting to spin the pair of you into the nest.

“Am not!” He bumps into his father as you temporarily get the upper hand.

“Are too!” He pins you again and you can tell he’s trying not to smile, to be serious. “The biggest too!”

Roachstone’s rumbling chuckle fills the air as your squabbling continues, tousling around but - somehow - managing to keep from spilling out of the nest and into the rest of the nursery. Outside, the drizzle slowly picks up.

---

“–-should just go back to the warrior’s den.”

You stir, blinking groggily into the nursery; no one else in the nest moves. It’s naptime and the smaller kits next to you have run themselves ragged, snoozing soundly next to you. A glance around shows that their father is glowering at the entrance, so you squirm gently around to see what the hubbub is about…

Roachstone and Wolverineflame square off, the former barring the latter’s way into the den. Her lip is curled in a disdainful snarl, though it strikes you as funny that she’s actually letting the smaller tom boss her around – if you’ve learned anything from watching the cat known as your mother around camp, it’s that she’s stubborn and not afraid to throw her weight around – when she could just come in if she wanted to.

“I just want to check on my–”

“You’re what?” He challenges, looking solidly unimpressed, “You haven’t been around in moons, what could you possibly have to do here?”

Her eyes dart away, but she doesn’t snap back: “...I am aware.”

“Just leave them be,” the tom sighed, suddenly deflating: “It’ll be easier for everyone that way.”

“...I should, I know.” She bites back, though quickly drops the prickliness her voice drops to something… softer: “I’ve made mistakes, but… he looks so much like him, I just… can’t.”

“...Yeah, I get that…” Your eyes are growing heavy as Roachstone scuffs a paw. “But you need to give it more time, though…”

Your head lulls and, even though you jerk awake, you know this is loosing battle – your nestmates ran you ragged earlier today too. There’s a flash of blue eyes in your fading vision and you let out a long, audibly deep sigh as you settle back down.

“—ank you, Roach, for ca—”

---

“Do you ever miss it? Not having another parent, a dad?”

You pause in tugging, which gives Riverkit the upperhand; triumphant, he pulls the small, thin stick the two of you have been roughhousing over from your mouth. He spits it out, looking sour at your game being interrupted, and that’s when the two of you turn to the speaker.

Fallowkit, younger than the pair of you by three moons, cocks her head expectantly.

“It’s kind of weird—”

“—so?” Riverkit cuts in, tail lashing in open aggravation, putting himself between you and the younger she-kit. “I don’t have a mom or other parents either. You don’t miss what you don’t have.”

Her nose wrinkles, but then Roachstone – like he can sense Riverkit is going to start something (which he likely is, to be fair) – calls the two of you away. Your friend – because Riverkit has become a friend these last pawful of moons, as you’ve found yourself sleeping over his nest more often than not – huffs, stomping off with one last bad-tempered glower at Fallowkit. She turns to you, but you ignore her in favor of grabbing the abandoned stick and following.

“Nosy.” He puffs under his breath; you jostle his shoulder, drawing his attention to the stick you retrieved. That seems to lighten his mood a bit…

Which is good, because the sight of Wolverineflame with his father knocks the playfulness right out of you. You stutter-step as her icy gaze meets yours, not sure if you want to go over there but then Riverkit is there, grabbing onto the stick next to you and leading you on.

Can you really miss what you never had?

---

You and Riverpaw sit at the mouth of the apprentice den, watching some kits play out in the clearing. The silence between you is… heavy and uneasy.

Understandable, you think, stifling the urge to yawn.

“It’s weird, right?” Of course he’s the one to break the quiet.

“No.” You can’t bring yourself to look at him; it was Wolverineflame’s idea, you’re sure of it. If he was mad at you, you’d understand.

“Just… why now?” Your thoughts exactly: “Why wait until we’re apprentices? It’s not like she’d have time to really bond with us, anyway?”

“...is it bad?” He moves in your peripheral, likely looking at you, but you stare at your paws, “That I’m only upset he wants back in my life? Not about the rest?”

“Psh.” Suddenly, he’s leaning on you; still outweighing you by a fair amount, he almost knocks you over in surprise, “Nah. My dad’s pretty great and he’s been around for you more anyway… So, it makes sense.”

Glancing up, you murmur low: “I’m sorry.”

“For wha—” He startles visibly, sudden annoyance overtaking him, “Are you seriously a furbrain? Hey, look at me—”

He wraps a paw around your neck and drags you to face him properly.

“—We were practically siblings before dad and Wolverineflame announced they were together.” He shook you a bit and it does speak to how close you two are, that you know he’s trying to be gentle: “I’m just pissed I got such a shitty mom, one I didn’t even ask for, y’know?”

Yeah… you place your tail over his and lean your head against his chest. Yeah, you think you do know.

---

Describe your character here, in paragraph form. Include notable information about their history, upbringing, personality, appearance, and any other relevant information. Include at least four paragraphs. This section will automatically resize and have a scrollbar once it reaches a certain height.

Local chronically fatigued goth is unsurprisingly very doom and gloom about life, a tad philosophically about death though. Soft and dully cheery around select few (likely not you though).

PRE-PLOTTING

A Friend in Time: Fisherfrost is from "in the summer silence", as a bystander turned friend of Kestrelthorn; they are also Riverleap's sibling from the same ad. Besides their brother, Kestrelthorn is one of the only cats Fisherfrost is comfortable to be soft around. And, indeed, the pair have a very tender relationship with each other, intensely so, to the point that Fisherfrost quietly considers Kestrelthorn their best friend. When he is not too tired, Fisherfrost often wishes he'd spent less time letting Riverleap drag him around and tried to befriend the younger tom sooner...

The Distant Shadow of Pluto: blurb

---

[family tree link here]

general family blurb

✝ Blackberrystep (bio father) - Fisherfrost does not remember much of his father, but understands, fundamentally, that his death marked the beginning of the end of their relationship with their mother. According to some clanmates, the two were very similar, which gives Fisherfrost comfort in the fact that the pair would have had a good relationship if circumstances had been different.

Wolverineflame (mother) - Fisherfrost does not have a good relationship with his mother and has not for many moons; Wolverineflame practically threw herself into her warriors duties after her first mate's death, which sparked the growing distant between the two. Even after finding some happiness again with her second mate, though, she seems to always find something lacking in her son. She claims he is lackadaisical and immature, because she fundamentally cannot wrap her head around the idea that he's easily fatigued and believes that he just needs to try harder. In return, Fisherfrost has continued to distance himself from his mother, as she is really not worth the effort anymore.

Roachstone (step-father) - the easy-going, friendly face to his mate's workaholic fire, Roachstone and Fisherfrost are... well, the two don't have the kind of father-son relationship Roachstone wants, as he came into the picture a bit too late, but Fisherfrost likes the older tom enough and the two are on good terms.

Riverleap (step-brother) - in their mixed family, no one is closer than Riverleap and Fisherfrost. Riverleap is the first - and perhaps only - cat to fully grasp that Fisherfrost's tiredness is more of a condition than choice and worked hard to keep Fisherfrost involved in life; he dragged them around so often as apprentices and kits to ensure his sibling didn't get left behind. His loyalty is mirrored in Fisherfrost, who would do anything - anything - to make sure his brother is happy and it is for Riverleap's sake that they work so hard each and every day to push through their looming exhaustiveness, to be there for him.

---

Fisherfrost, while somewhat amicable, is the type of tom that knows his limits; friends require energy and, ergo, a lot of friends require a lot of energy. And not only does he not have a lot of energy to spare, but he tires excessively easily. Therefore, he does not waste energy on making new friends - but, being civil and peaceable like, he also doesn't discourage others from trying to befriend him... just expect selective reciprocation until he decides you're worth it.

Riverleap - not only his step-brother, Riverleap is Fisherfrost's first friend; the first cat to realize that they weren't intentionally lazy but rather struggling to be present decide their exhaustive state. Riverleap is one of the few cats that can rouse Fisherfrost from their gloomy mindset when the fatigue becomes too much to bare and works hard to help his step-sibling be included and not forgotten. Due to all this, the pair of step-siblings have an unshakeable bond and there is nothing Fisherfrost would deny the guardian.

Kestrelthorn - while Fisherfrost was not exactly a bully to Kestrelthorn - not like Riverleap was - it is easy to say the pair's relationship has taken a drastic turn since becoming warriors. Even though he wishes he'd acted sooner, not like his chronic tiredness keep him sidelined, to be the tom's friend, he is glad now to privately consider the calico his best friend. When not found with Riverleap, one is very likely to find Fisherfrost and Kestrelthorn relaxing together about camp, being oddly soft with one another in their mannerisms.

Sootstorm - even though Fisherfrost was not a good mentor for the younger molly when he tried to train her, Sootstorm has stuck around as a friendly face. She comes and goes, sometimes too energic for Fisherfrost and others times surprisingly mature for her age, but... well, he has a feeling that this must be what it's like to have a nosy little sister.

---

Romance is something that requires time and energy and... well, Fisherfrost may have plenty of the former, he lacks a lot of the latter. He is definitely not looking for anything, especially nothing serious, and he likely wouldn't know romantic interest from another person if it smacked them in the face with unsheathed claws... but, who knows?

Kestrelthorn - it's a small thing, this crush that hangs about Fisherfrost's head; sometimes, he thinks that the two of them being so soft with each other and so tender has caused this all. He isn't against the idea of finding someone, someday, who understands him but Kestrelthorn is right there... but who is also close to his brother... no, for now, the status quo is the safer bet. He likes having a best friend, after all...

---

 

optional images