Newheart
From Children of StarClan
| Newheart A Player Character belonging to Unknown |
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Appearance
Short Description :
A red tabby bi-color she-cat with a lithe body and vivid green eyes
Long Description :
Newheart is a red-and-white she-cat with a fairly unusual bicolor pattern. She has faint darker stripes on the red sections of fur and her paws and tail are pure white. Her eyes are a brilliant green, deep and bright and vivid, and are very expressive. Her long white tail gives here excellent balance, and though she is unusually small for her age, she's no pushover. She lacks the power to cause a lot of damage with each blow in battle, but her speed, which was impressive even among the swift Windclanners she had lived with before, makes her a tough target to strike. In fact, Newheart is built for speed; her long tail and legs, lean build, and diminutive size are all attributes of a running cat.
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Personality
Newheart is mocking, cynical, sarcastic, and cunning. But don't let those words fool you; she is no cruel, cold she-cat. She is warm and friendly, a bouncy, cheerful character by nature. Charismatic and easygoing, she is a cat who should be difficult to hate. She has a sharp sense of other cat's emotions, making her an excellent judge of character. She laughs often, believing that laughter keeps one sane. She tends to be laid-back, and is witty and clever as well. While not headstrong, she is tenacious and often stubborn. She has a tendency to get on her soapbox once and a while and give another cat a stern talking-to...usually at length. She is not one to 'go along to get along,' but she is also not stubborn enough to keep pushing. She is somewhere in-between, sensible and usually calm. Some things set her off quickly, but most of the time she keeps her cool. Her mood is usually light, and she has a bit of a reputation for her bright, playful, happy mindset. She is never one to stay gloomy for too long. She believes in second chances, and she is utterly loyal to her friends. She will keep a secret forever, if it's for someone she cares about. Memories of her past hold little power over her, and as a result, she is able to talk easily about her past. She sometimes shows flashes of the bolder, tougher, stubborn and straightforward side that is concealed beneath her happy-go-lucky exterior. She believes in honesty -not all the time but most- and will try her best to be truthful, though she could lie with the best of them if she had to. She is an excellent actress, an attribute that would make those who are suspicious of her nervous, but she would never do anything to hurt or cross RiverClan. She does not trust easily, due to the tragedy that took place in her early life. Secretly, she is full of doubt and suspicion towards those around her; she is rather paranoid...but she has become very adept at concealing her emotions, so this trait is likely difficult to discern.
She is open and friendly to a point, but in many ways she will always stand alone.
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History
Key Dates
Full History :
[ Moons 0-5 ]
On a cool night in early Greenleaf, WindClan was blessed with a new litter of kittens. All three, two she-kits and one tom-kit, were pronounced healthy, much to the joy of their parents. Fernkit grew swiftly. She and her siblings, sweet, crafty Leafkit and brave, honest Redkit, were nearly inseparable. They shared a common love of adventure; from the moment they could walk in a straight line, they were trouble. They escaped the den many times, much to Tawnyfur's dismay, they scuffled with the apprentices, they tried to slip out of camp...and even managed to once. Though all three were healthy, boisterous kits, the third-born Fernkit was the most energetic. She spoke a mile a minute when she learned how, never sat still, and ran everywhere-- all the time. She and her siblings felt confined in camp, and tried just about every stunt they could scheme up to relieve their boredom. Immersed in their escapades, the young cats barely noticed the change in their father. The war had been taking a toll on Firestorm's mind, and with the recent death of his best friend, his sanity was the casualty. He grew grumpy and irritable; depressed, he began sleeping all the time. His short temper caused him to shout at apprentices and even lash out at fellow warriors. His leader didn't know what to do, and his fellow WindClanners were helpless to stop the warrior on his long fall to madness. Rage. Paranoia. Firestorm was collectively shunned by all, including his anxious, overwrought mate. They hoped he would work through it on his own; many were too afraid to near him. He made cats nervous, with his twitching and muttering. Breezestar did what she could, but it was pointless. Shortly before his offspring's apprentice ceremony, he got into a screaming fight with Tawnyfur. Since then, he grew even more withdrawn and subdued. He avoided the light. He was plagued by mild paranoid delusions. Firestorm had lost his mind entirely by his daughter's sixth moon.
Barely a moon had passed since their apprenticeship when Fernpaw's father snapped completely. She, her mother, and her siblings were not far from camp, chatting and the like. Fernpaw had slipped away to see if she could nab a mouse, and returned in time to witness Firestorm leap from the shadows and strike Tawnyfur down. He then turned, in a fury, and buried his fangs in Redpaw's throat. Leafpaw turned to run, in her shock and terror stumbling over her paws. Firestorm took her out with a single blow. It was pure luck that Fernpaw lived; Breezestar had been coming to fetch Tawnyfur and walked in in time to see Firestorm taking a step toward Fernkit, his family's still bodies laying out behind him. He leaped and killed Firestorm, and tired her best to comfort terrified Fernpaw, but the apprentice would never be the same again. Fernpaw became withdrawn, subdued. She rarely spoke unless spoken to, and even then, she gave only one word or sentence answers. She was not going crazy; she was merely dealing with the sudden, shocking loss of her family in her own way. Each day was a battle to keep her wits about her. She was terrified of falling apart like Firestorm. She needed a distraction badly, and threw herself into her work. She was always on her paws, hunting, training, patrolling. She was the most dedicated apprentice at the time. She did not socialize like her fellow apprentices, and as a result had no friends. When her mentor was busy, she hunted and trained alone. She slept little throughout those five long moons; she desperately feared the darkness of sleep. She feared the dreams that came as well as the black chasm that was sleep itself-- her overactive imagination wondered if the deep darkness of sleep was the way her father's madness had felt to him: just slipping deeper and deeper in, until there was no light at all. So she became a low-grade insomniac, sleeping only when her body grew too tired to do much else. As her father had avoided the light, Fernpaw avoided the dark. Perhaps some of her Clanmates were concerned, but there was very little anyone could have done, because Fernpaw needed to work through it alone. Everywhere she went, she went focused: on her duties, on her training. It was her defense. Because of her concentration and energy thrown into her apprenticeship, she was made an apprentice at 11 moons. The newly-named Fernwhisker was overwhelmed. One single day passed, and Fernwhisker nearly had a nervous breakdown. She hid her anxiety as well as she could, but she could not deny that it was a serious problem. As an apprentice, she had her training to focus on. Her focus had blocked out her fears and doubts and sadness. She had gotten through the worst of her grieving by bottling it up and hiding it away. But now she had no training to focus on, no specific goal to work towards. Now, her only goal was to live. Live each day of the life that stretched on and barren before her in the place where her mother had walked and her siblings had played and her father had spilled their blood. She couldn't take it. Within a few days, Fernwhisker was lightly depressed and feeling utterly lost. She went to Breezestar and told her she was going to leave. Breezestar could do nothing to stop the warrior; after arguing fiercely that Fernwhisker stay, he was forced to let her go. And go she did, away from the place where her family had lived and died.
Fernwhisker took the loner name Verde, and lived near the farm outside WindClan land. The silence and the slowness of living alone was both frightening and refreshing to her, and with leaf-bare coming on, hunting only for herself was a strange experience. There was something rather liberating in having to hunt only for yourself, protect only yourself. Fernwhisker adapted slowly to loner life. She was, perhaps, a particularly adaptable cat for a Clanborn. The quiet out there was odd to her, but in the many, many days she spent as a loner, she had many opportunities to learn more about herself, to heal. Life was slower out there, and it was there where she managed to confront the memories and the fears and doubts spread by her father. The first few moons were rough because of that; when she did sleep, she had terrible nightmares, she spent days at a time wallowing in deep depressions... But by her 5th moon alone, she had gotten past it. In those five moons, she had grieved and made more progress than she had at home; she reflected that it was strange for solitude to have such an effect on a Clanborn, but it was the truth. It was the loneliness she needed. Once she was past the grieving and the shock that still trailed through her -she hadn't realized it, but she had been in shock for a long time-, the fears and doubts began to downsize. Finally, they were gone altogether, though she was still plagued with terrible, grisly dreams now and again. She began sleeping more regularly, and her life fell into an easy rhythm that allowed her time to do what she wanted. And that she did. As her depression faded and she grew happier again, she began to do more ordinary things. She climbed trees, chased prey for fun, ran, played with sticks and feathers like a kit. She felt the joy of simple, quiet living acutely. Once the memories of her family had been archived into the past, they held little power over her, and so she was truly happy. Another 7 moons passed that way. She was happy and healthy as she could be, but near the end something began to nag her. Some distant part of her felt that her 13 moons spent alone had been a vacation, and that it was time to be over. She was growing lonely even though she was happy, and now life seemed almost too slow for her. She rebelled against the idea of going back when it came. Not only did she doubt that Breezestar would allow her back, but even if she did, did Fernwhisker really want to spend the rest of her days back where so many terrible things had happened? Her father had destroyed her ability to trust there; if she went back, she feared she would lose all the steps forward she had made. She could not bring herself to set paw on WindClan land. So she journeyed to RiverClan on a whim, arguing furiously with herself, completely unsure of what to do or even what she was doing. As a result, she was in a very bizarre mood when she met the patrol. Perhaps if she had not been battling with herself, she would have kept her cool, and been her usual self, but that was not what happened. But she was accepted anyway, to her surprise, and later, delight. She was renamed Newborn, and that rubbed her the wrong way, but she bore up under as best as she could.
She spent moons upon moons in the RiverClan camp, not allowed outside it, and that, too, she worked through with all the grace she could manage. She was as patient as a cat like her could be, though her desire to be somewhere open, to run, was nearly overpowering. Some cats accepted her...acceptance well, but many did not. Thistlefur above all was hostile to the decision; he harassed Newborn, threatened her at times, and ignored her, all in succession. It confused and rather frightened her, but once again, she adapted. After meeting with Ashstar, she was allowed to leave camp with another warrior, so long as she kept far from the borders. She was ecstatic, and left at once. She went through several moons that way, fighting to prove she could be loyal, and finally, finally she received her warrior name. Newheart. At last, she was a true RiverClanner. She was surprised at how well Thistlefur took her naming--not even an unkind word or especially grumpy look. Her spirits soared; she was in. At long last, she had a home again. She completed her warrior duties like a true RiverClanner. She patrolled, hunted, went to Gatherings. She was able to live the life she could not in WindClan. Not long ago, she managed to win the trust, as well as the friendship, of Thistlefur. Though he tormented her when she first came to stay in RiverClan, she is now quite fond of the prickly tom. He, along with apprentice Sliverpaw, were her two closest friends.
Something happened when Newheart was in her thirty-second moon that marked a new period in her life. She was accused of murder. Newheart was enjoying a dawn run when she stumbled upon the ravaged remains of RiverClan's leader, Ashstar; except all that was left of him was bones and fur tufts. Deep, wide pools of blood dyed the snow. The sight hit Newheart hard; she went into instant shock. She managed only a single coherent thought, and grasped it like a drowning man grasps a rope thrown to him: she needed to find out who died, and warn the Clan. So she walked right into the kill-site without a second thought. Had she been more herself, she might not have, but in her stunned state, she did not pause to reflect on whether it was a good idea or not. In exploring the kill-site, Newheart became drenched from paws to ears in blood, and upon discovering the...body, as it were...of Ashstar, she dashed straight back to camp to report it. Except she arrived bloody and winded, and as soon as she raised the alarm with a straightforward yowl of "Ashstar is dead!", accusations were leveled against her. She was the outsider, and was immediately singled out by RiverClan. She was, of course, innocent; a fact that was, shortly thereafter, proven to the Clan. But still, it was a sobering experience.
One chilly, drizzly dawn, Newheart gave birth to a single kit. As it should be, it was love at first sight. She named the kit Twilightkit, after Thistlefur's loner name, Twilight Follower, because she did not want any of them to forget their origins. However, what should have been Newheart's happiest day was marred by the fight that took place soon after Twilightkit's birth; a minor disagreement with fellow queen Foxpoppy escalated until Foxpoppy, misunderstanding Newheart's intentions, moved her kits out of the nursery. The event deeply unsettled Newheart; what kind of life would her son, who lacked any RiverClan blood, have among prejudiced cats like Foxpoppy?
The Moon of Cheetah's Flight brought two changes to Newheart's life, one small, the other a hammer-blow to everything she had known. First, there was Twilightkit. As he came to understand his status, he turned his back on his mother's doctrine and cast off his name in favor of his new apprentice name, Cardinalpaw. While Newheart acknowledged that the name's true meaning may have perhaps been too subtle, she was disappointed that her son seemed to be embracing some of RiverClan's biases. Then, near the end of the moon, a fed-up Thistlefur turned his back on RiverClan itself. He had expected Newheart to follow him, she had refused--in a rather public confrontation. He left alone, returning to his solitary life. As to be expected, his defection struck a blow to Newheart, who has since become uncharacteristically subdued.
Over time, Newheart struck up an unexpected friendship with Ashstar's brother Crowfur. She and the older cat grew even closer following Thistlefur's departure; in a time of inner turmoil and self-doubt, Crowfur became one of her very best friends and a trusted confidante. Sadly, Crowfur had already passed to StarClan by the time Newheart's second kit (and Crowfur's only kit) was born, in the Moon of Lion's Glory. The kit was named in honor of her father. This time, Newheart's time in the nursery was far more peaceful, and she enjoyed the friendly company of Fernheart rather than a cold shoulder. The bitter cold of leaf-bare forced Newheart to finally face her own growing infirmities; although her kit was not even yet of apprenticing age and the leanest times in recent memory were upon the Clan, she was forced to admit that she could no longer keep up. On a bright, frigid day in the Moon of Leopard's Rest, Newheart retired quietly. [DEATH] Newheart died on the 21st day of the Moon of Melting Waters (2009) of Blackcough. |
Family
Sire :
Firestorm (A red tabby bi-color tom with yellow eyes)
Dame :
Tawnyfur (A calico she-cat with green eyes and a white locket on her chest)
Full Siblings :
Offspring :
Cardinalflight (A blue-eyed red tabby tom with white forelegs, chest and face)
Crowpaw (A tortie she-kit with yellow eyes and white paws) |
Genealogy & Pedigree
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Significant Cats
Mated with :
Thistlefur (A cunning and fickle brown tabby tom with green eyes)
Crowfur (A black tom with amber eyes, a fluffy tail and graying muzzle) Mentor :
Unspecified
Mentor of :
Walnutfall (A blue classic tabby tom with large yellow eyes)
Others :
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Player's Notes
Vol Populi :
Relationships :
Name Notes :
Name History investigation is required for Newheart
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Additional Details
Bans Information:
Newheart has been compiled into the bans records based on his/her physical traits.
Newheart is a Female cat with Short Red Mackerel Tabby Bicolor fur. She is of Medium-small size and Common build. She has Green eyes and a Long tail. She is of non-purebred decent. Genetics:
Newheart Is A Part Of The Character Genotype Project and has been Genotyped.
aa CC BB Dd SS Ww LL ReRe RR RoRo sese whwh McMc tata spsp dmdm ii OO Rfhigh Wblow GlGl mm cucu jbjb fdfd pdpd |