The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
Welcome to WCC! Here are our latest announcements:
Activity checks take place on the 1st of the month. PM a staff member with the completed form if you missed it.
Newleaf is finally here, and the Clans hope to find reprieve from the tough Leaf-bare.
Gatherings take place on the 1st of the month; keep your eyes out for a staff member's post!
Please feel free to hit up any staff member if you have any questions!
appearance || a small, lithe lynx-point she-cat framed by semi-long fur.
Cinderpaw's fur is a meld of white, light grays and dark grays. Her ears have dark, fur-fluffed tips that fade into a lighter shade. Her face is a combination of each colour, with a dark mouth and stripes along her forehead and eyes, with her upper eyelids framed by a lighter colour. Her whiskers are dark, and at there base is a pale gray that almost appears like flecks of snowfall. The flesh of her ears is a pale pink, a sharp contrast to her black button nose. Her eyes are a bright, inquisitive blue with an eternal sparkle of curiousity. Her body is mainly a white with a dark gray bib of fur along her chest. Leading down to her paws, the white melds with a light gray, leading to a set of dark gray stripes and toes. Her tail follows a similar pattern, being mainly white with a strip of dark gray leading to a dark tip and bands of a lighter colour amongst it.
In regards to body shape, all in all Cinderpaw is rather small. She is short and lithe with small ears, a tiny nose and a short enough tail. Her paws, however, are quite wide in comparison, but that may just be an illusion of the fluff that makes her appear much larger than she is. It's like she melts every time she takes a swim. Her fur has a constant sheen to it, a nod to her vigilant preenings and plucking away of any dust-bunnies or burrs that get stuck to her. She hates feeling grimy.
likes || white and blue flowers, making moss balls, clean fur, making anyone smile, training with Perchstar (no matter how badly she does it), quiet evenings when it's raining, the moon dislikes || worms, wet mud, geese, hot weather, being snapped at, hurting things, sleeping alone other traits || easily startled, haunted by vengeful geese, not the best climber in the world, scared of harsh winds
Cinderpaw was born without a care in the world or a drop of badness in her blood. Growing up, she didn't even know what bad meant. If she got yelled at? Oh, that cat was having a bad day. Someone hit someone? They were just playing too rough. It was only after her parents argument and disappearance that she understood what it meant. Her parents were bad. Maybe not intentionally, but they hurt her. They hurt each other, too. She didn't want anyone else to feel that way, so she decided she would make everyone else happy. Often, she may overstep and say things not needed at the time because she believes it might make the other cat smile. She doesn't want anybody to be sad, ever-- So when it does happen, she never ever has a clue what to say. Sometimes, silence is good, too. It helpe her in the past.
Of course, with her parents constant arguments in her youth came with no validation. She rarely got the encouragement other kits did, and now feels as though she must seek it out desperately. Is this right? Am I doing this okay? Was I not meant to do that? These questions have a permanent place on her tongue, even if it makes her feel self-conscious to ask them. She just doesn't know.
Her compassion bares teeth at the same time. She puts others before her constantly, and will blame herself for everything if given the chance. It will spare others from sadness, so she will do it. She did this a lot as a kit, blaming herself for any injury another kit suffered as a result of play. She became closed in then, and never learned the skills needed to cope in large crowds, which she found out during the gathering. She often tried to play with older warriors instead if they cast her a glance-- because they were less likely to be hurt. Her wish to cause others no sadness has resulted in her rarely ever turning to others when upset. It is a dangerous path to tread.
Cinderpaw was born to two parents constantly at each-others throats. Perhaps there was care there before, but with the stillbirth of her sibling, all that was left was strife and stress. Her father shielded her from most of it, telling her stories and letting her follow him around camp when she was old enough to leave the nursery. Her mothers wrathful gaze was never too far away, and one day decided to accuse her father of trying to take her last kit from her. With her fathers instructions to hide away in the nursery, her last memory of her mother was the bickering shadows before she fled into the forest. She never came back, and when her father went to search for her, he never returned, either. She never found out what had happened.
She lived by herself then-- Amongst the other queens and kits, of course. She played by herself, slept by herself. Sure, there were days that she may play with the other kits-- But if they got hurt, that was bound to be her fault. There must be a reason only she was left of her family, right? It caused her to be shy and uncertain as she grew, but now she is finding her footing. She has friends now-- Friends that don't get hurt because of her. Mainly because of geese.
