Frostedpaw’s pelt isn’t the only thing about her that’s pretty. Her fur, usually shining and healthy from being well fed, is a solid ginger color, like an ever-burning fire against the sun. It’s lighter than average, sort of similar to the color of a leaf in leaf-fall, and just as beautiful. Being quite long, it protects her easily from the harsh, cold winds of leaf-bare, and the sweltering heat of green-leaf. There are so many individual hairs, and they all add up to a thick, full pelt.

Her front legs are much alike, though very different as well. From her elbow down, on her right side, it’s a darker ginger color, with even darker burnt-orange rings around her legs. These stripes aren’t at all thick, in fact they are as thin as a single blade of grass. On her second joint, the one closest to her foot, that may be called a knee in two-leg terms, it changes abruptly from orange, to white. Only on the back, though, on the front it doesn’t appear different at all until you see her paw. It’s the same pure white as the back of her… knee. Her left leg is somewhat alike, though the rings of dark ginger, like cinnamon, curve around her legs further towards her paws than the other. The white only covers her paw, maybe even a little less.

Her back legs are completely different from the rest of her body. Unlike the front legs, her back legs are almost fully white. There are no dark ginger rings around them, but the same light ginger as her back does consume a little of her legs. On her right back leg, the white appears above her elbow/knee, but only on the front. In the back there is a thick line of ginger that doesn’t change to white until a little below the knee. On her left leg, the white seems to inhale the ginger above. There is only a small ring of ginger just below where the leg starts, then all of it is pure white, like a dove’s wing.

Her tail is quite short and much thicker than you would expect. It’s like a long. soft snake protruding from her back. At the base, its as thick as a small sized branch, and as it gets longer, it thins to the size of almost a twig. Her fur here is much thicker than on the rest of her body as well. It’s also much more soft, though. Her tail is just the right length to curl around her paws, which she takes advantage of often. It’s one of the few features she has that she isn’t proud of on her body, because it isn’t delicate and small like her paws, or covered in white like her legs.

Her eyes aren’t as perfect as she’d like, either. They’re mostly a dull amber color, not usually showing anything special like her sister’s, Faithkit, whom she has always envied. Though there are a few flecks in her left eye that her right eye lacks, and when the light hits it right one eye appears a light gold, like staring into the sun. In the dark, or with only the dim light of the moon to guide her, her eyes reflect a yellow-ish silver color, as if the sun and the moon had joined together. It’s an odd color that she dislikes, but there is no way to change it, so she simply imagines that they’re a different color.

She has an average build, though her long, fluffy fur makes her appear much plumper than the normal cat. Especially on her belly, where the fur hangs lower than the rest, making her stomach appear very large. It’s really not, though, in fact, if you were to dump a bucket of water over her, you could see her ribs. She doesn’t eat much so there will be room for the elders, and it definitely shows. Her legs aren’t particularly long, and her tail is quite short. Her neck is somewhat lengthy, though, which gives her an air of grace.

Fluffy light ginger she-cat with white paws and amber eyes.

Frostedpaw has had much happen in her life, and over the course of her kit-hood much has changed about her. When she was a kit, she was carefree, and fun-loving. She didn’t know the difference between right and wrong, and didn’t care. Her sisters and her would play around, never even trying to understand what the warriors were up to, or why they weren’t allowed to leave camp. They simply did what they were told, having an over protective mother. In truth, ignorance consumed her life. She knew nothing about the world, and felt like it would stay like that all her life. It didn’t, though, and deep down, she knew it would never be able to. Things would change, and she would change.

When her sister died, Dovekit, she didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t understand what was happening, so she just continued her life as normal. She did get much quieter, and wasn’t nearly as playful ever. She’d long for the caring paws of her mother, the rough, rasping lick of her tongue on Slippingkit’s head. She missed the way they could always laugh together, but never spoke out. Fear had basically inhaled the family, and there was no way to escape it. Everything got much quieter, and no one would play or do anything as much.

Her mother took her sister and left, and Slippingkit’s world fell apart. She didn’t know what she should do, and she didn’t know what she should say. This is when she started to achieve the personality she has now. Because she didn’t understand, she felt left out of everything. And now that her sister was gone, she had no friends, and was always somewhat afraid. She didn’t know how to act anymore, so she simply chose one thing to do, and did it. Her way to get through everything was to act tough. She’d laugh at pain, and be rough and rowdy. It almost seemed like she didn’t care about her family leaving her, as if nothing was important to her anymore. This was, of course, not true. Her family was everything, and she lost that.

Her veil covered her true feelings, and that’s how it is now as well. She pretends like she doesn’t care about anything, and sometimes even cons herself into thinking she really doesn’t care. She’s quite vain, and acts like she could do anything, though she knows she couldn’t. It’s almost as if she thinks she has nine lives, or is immortal. She’s proud, and wouldn’t let anything take that away. Proud of her pelt, the way she looks, except a few things about her, and proud of the way she acts. She’s especially proud of the way she fights and hunts, though she isn’t all that great at either. She likes things to be done for her, rather than having to do them herself, which gets her into trouble quite often. She doesn’t mind, though, as the elders fascinate her. While she’s cleaning their dens, they tell her stories about their past. This is the only time when she’ll show what she feels, and only to the old cats. Its as if she trusts them more than anyone else.
Kits, on the other hand, she dislikes very much. She doesn’t like to go into the nursery, and remember when she was a young cat. Her own kit-hood was terrible, and she hates the memories that haunt her every time she takes a step into the nursery. The kits annoy her, she feels like they know too little. Like they’ll never get anywhere in life without understanding the warrior code, what truly matters. She hates remembering herself like any of those kits, ignorant, foolish. Not caring about any deaths, not caring about anything. This is just another one of her many masks, though, because she actually envies them. She wishes she wouldn’t care about anything. She wishes she didn’t have to care.

Frostedpaw was born in her clan, and nothing super-special happened over the course of her short life. The spitting image of her father, she was born to her light colored solid ginger pelt, but instead of her full-white paws, and one full-white leg, only the tips of her toes were white. This gave her the name ‘Slippingkit’; it looked as if she had stepped lightly into a thin blanket of snow. Her chest was white, too, and a little line above her nose as well. As she grew, the white spread from the tips of her toes, to all across her legs and her paws became completely white. The thin line above her nose grew, too, into a thin strip of white on the whole of her nose.

When she was born, she knew her father and her mother. They cared for her, and her two sisters, like the world depended on it. Her mother, Wishfoot, wouldn’t let her out of her sight. She’d never given a thought to what her kits were missing, but she wanted them to be safe and sound where she could see them. Her father, Twigfrost, came to visit them all the time in the nursery. Slippingkit loved her dad more than anyone. They did a lot together, and when Wishfoot was asleep, he’d sneak her out into the camp to visit the elders and the apprentices. He’d play with her, and show her fighting moves. He was so carefree, and normal, unlike her worrisome mother who was anything but normal. Her siblings never got the kind of special treatment that she did, but she didn’t give pay any attention to that. She didn’t even notice how jealous her one sister, Faithkit, was until she finally told her. At first she was confused, but in the end she got it.

It only made her angry, though. She didn’t understand why her sister cared so much about a few outings, and a laugh or two. It didn’t really matter, right? The siblings got in a huge fight, not talking or even laying next to one another. Dovekit, their other sister, was stuck in the middle of everything, wondering which side to take. She had always been closer to their mother, so she didn’t really care who went out with their dad. In the end, she sided with Slippingkit. Faithkit was furious, and refused to speak to any of them, including their father. Wishfoot caught on, and found out about them sneaking out of the nursery. She, too, was furious with all of them, even Dovekit who had done nothing, and became very close to Faithkit. Dovekit would sit alone, not wanting to talk to Wishfoot, and Wishfoot wouldn’t want to talk to her either..

Slippingkit felt terrible. She had started all of this, and caused Dovekit a life of miserable-ness. It seemed so unfair that her sweet, caring sister should be the one to suffer, so she finally went up to talk to her mother. It turned out not as bad as she thought it would be, though both cats were still angry with each other. Slippingkit explained that it hadn’t been her father’s fault, or Dovekit’s fault, it had all been her. She had dragged Twigfrost down with her, asking him and bothering him until he taught her a few fighting moves, and Dovekit never took part in any of it. Her mother started talking to her father again, and Dovekit was again the favorite. Everything seemed back to normal.

Her father was growing older and older, and a bought of green-cough weakened him to the point of death. He barely lived through it, and retired to the elders’ den to rest. He started to drift away from Slippingkit, only talking to her when necessary, or when telling them all a story. Wishfoot would visit him, and he still seemed to love her, and she loved him. She became jealous, wondering why all of the sudden she was the one left out. Dovekit had their mother, Faithkit had Dovekit, and who did she have? No one. Her father had abandoned her, and her mother still hated her for causing a huge fight within their family. She was alone.

Faithkit and Dovekit realized that she wasn’t playing, talking, or really doing much of anything, and decided to start including her more. They played lots of games, evil rogue-against leader being the favorite. Dovekit was always the leader, Faithkit the evil rogue, and Slippingkit the medicine cat. She loved pretending to apply herbs, really just leaves, and playing the game. She never once gave a thought to being the leader, though Faithkit obviously did. Dovekit and her would argue over the position, and sometimes even get in little tussles with each other. Dovekit was larger, and stronger, and would always win, leaving Faithkit to be the evil rogue. They generally had a lot of fun, and it seemed her life was going the way it should again.

Finally, when they were four and a half moons old, their mother asked the leader if they could go on a little field-trip outside of camp. The leader agreed instantly, knowing the kits had hardly set foot out of the nursery their entire lives. Slippingkit was so excited, along with Dovekit and Faithkit. They set out just before after sun-high, so they would get to see the moon rise above the trees. None of them could possibly know that not all three kits would be able to…

When they went outside of camp, their mother led them to a little clearing that was surrounded by trees and bushes, and went to rest under a tree. She soon fell asleep, not realizing she had left her kits in the wilderness with no protection. They didn’t notice they had a chance to get a taste of freedom, so they just played their little evil rogue verses leader game again, the positions the same as always. Faithkit, though, had convinced them to let her win this time, she had no idea that she was saving her own life. It went as usual, a little tussle, then a ‘wounded’ cat. The medicine cat watched in horror as the rogue clawed at her leader’s pelt, and the leader limped over to her. She had a great idea this time, though. She’d use real herbs instead of the worthless leaves she usually would. She rushed over to her ‘den’, searching for something that looked like an herb. She found a bright red berry, and delightedly brought it back to Dovepaw. She told her to eat it, and she’d be completely healed, so she did.

Dovekit, though, was far from healed. In fact, she instantly became terribly sick. She started to sway on her paws, moaning and groaning. The others thought she was still playing, so they laughed and laughed saying how good of an actor she was. It was as if she was really sick! Suddenly, though, the small bundle of white fur collapsed onto the ground, no more alive than a rock. Faithkit still thought she was playing with them, so she pranced around in circles bragging about how she won. Slippingkit knew otherwise, though, as her belly was not rising and falling as it should have been. She prodded her and prodded her, but Dovekit’s eyes had been closed, never to open again.

Neither of the kits knew what had happened to her, or told about the berry. They made a pact never to tell anything about that first day in the forest, ever. Slippingkit didn’t grieve, and didn’t understand why her mother was so sad. She didn’t really even understand that her sister was dead, never to talk to them again. Faithkit didn’t either, and they would talk about how sad their mother was, and wonder why. Her father had become deaf by then, so he had no idea what was going on. Both the kits were as confused as him, and they had no idea what to do or say.

One day, Slippingkit woke up to find her mother and her sister gone. She didn’t worry about it, thinking they were just outside at the fresh-kill pile, or something. Falling back asleep, she didn’t realize how much of nothing she had at that time. When she woke up again, she wandered into the daylight to find the clan fretting and panicking. When she asked what happened, an apprentice told her, “Didn’t anyone tell you? Your mom and sister, Wishfoot and Faithkit. They disappeared.” The young tom had a sorrowful look in his eyes, and Slippingkit’s were clouded with grief. She always wondered if it was something she did, or something someone else did, but they never returned.

From that day forward, Slippingkit kind of closed herself up. She became the tough kitty, only revealing her emotions towards the cats she trusted. She didn’t always stick to the warrior code as a kit, but that was only because she hardly understood it. Only sticking to the mock-warrior code her sisters and her had made up for their game, she roughly made it through kit-hood. It wasn’t long after her sister disappeared that she received her apprentice ceremony, and her new apprentice name, though.

Her mentor was a kind she-cat, but strong and had a powerful will. She urged Frostedpaw to do her best at everything, and taught her as much as she could. Every word her mentor, Thinbreath, uttered stuck to her like glue, and she tried her best never to stray from the warrior code. She understood the deeper meaning of the rules, and how sometimes it was best to disobey it, especially if it was for the good of your clan, unlike some other apprentices and warriors as well. Even though she knew the true warrior code, she still liked to imagine she was a medicine cat, and she could only obey their special, friendship-warrior, no, kit-code. She even had dreams about it sometimes.

Recently, her mentor was killed by a fox. Frostedpaw grieved almost nothing, though, as she and her mentor were never really close… They found her body in the Bayou, with just one bite to the neck. Definitely a fox, bite, the medicine cat later determined. When her wounds were cleaned, she looked almost like a normal cat, just a few holes in the nape of her neck. Frostedpaw, like everyone else, sat vigil for her that night, and only a single tear was shed for the loss. For some reason, it was like she didn’t care. She’d lost nearly everything, and now it seemed normal. She understood it, finally; there was life, and there was death. Every cat had to experience both eventually, and for some it was sooner rather than later. They had just as good of a life in StarClan, and there was no reason to wish them back to the forest, where there was pain, and sorrow. She’d meet everyone again, eventually, in silverpelt.

Now she’s aged a bit, and has almost completely forgotten about her kithood. Though she still remembers her best friend, she doesn’t dwell on it as much. She lives in the present, and loves life. Always tries to have fun, even in the worst of times. She still acts like a tough-kitty, though most have figured out she’s about the softest apprentice around. When she does think of her mom or her sisters, she has trained herself to keep it to good memories, instead of remembering their deaths, or disappearances; she remembers all the games they played, and their mother’s soft fur. She tries to make the best of her apprenticeship, with new friends, a new mentor, and a new life.

[how could this happen to me?]

The sun’s glare bore into Frostedpaw’s pelt as she lay in a small clearing. Memories flitted throughout her mind, memories of her sisters, her mom, her father. All the cats she had loved, and cared for in her life. All of them were gone. Cold wind swirled through the air all around her, and it almost seemed like it was dancing through her soft fur. Her spine tingled as a tiny flake of snow fell from the sky, landing on her foot. She didn’t move a muscle, though, frozen by the powerful thoughts entering and exiting her mind, slowly and carefully. No amount of cold would make her leave, no amount of heat, nothing could. This was the exact spot where her sister’s eyes had closed, never to open again. Ever. A tear slid down her face, leaving a wet path that the cool wind took advantage of. Now the tear was no more than a snowflake, mixed with all the others on the ground where she lay, and the thin line on her face was white with the frost of leaf-bare.

“You’ll never vanquish me.” She mewed Dovekit’s last words quietly, her voice carried away into the sky by a harsh gust of air. She wondered how far it would travel, just a silent whisper of the winds. Nothing could have made anything better for her. Nothing at all. It was as if her life was already over, consumed by the black call of death. She tried to live her life normally, but how could she? Everything she cared about was gone. None of the other apprentices seemed to like her, and she didn’t even have a mentor. How could anything be any worse? She heard a snap, and quickly sat up, her pelt nearly frozen. Shaking the snow off, she looked around, wondering if it had been a cat, or something else. The line of frost on her face disappeared with a swipe of her paw, and there was no sign that she had ever let the drop of water escape in the first place. Another apprentice stepped out of the shadows, her head tilted to the side. She masked the grief in her eyes with anger, and growled,

“What do you want?”

She needs a mentor.. any offers? <3