{heart frozen} Scarredstar {mind sharp as ever}

[♫.Wandersoul;;]

and i'm alone now
me and all i stood for
we're wandering now
all in parts and pieces
swim lonely
find your own way out

scarredstar.

if.you.can't.stand.the.fine.print

i. I am Scarredstar, leader of MountainClan

ii. I am a blue-grey she-cat with pale green eyes.
iii. I have a collar with a tooth on it.

iv. I am sarcastic, short-tempered and harsh,
v. but also experienced, canny and wise.

vi. I left the Clan after my kits died.
vii. When I returned, my old mate was leader, and he made me his deputy.
viii. He died in the storm, and I am leader today.

[/size]

i can't see your star
i can't see your star
how can the darkness feel so wrong?

you.ask.who.i.am

name. Scarredstar
gender. she-cat
age. 42 moons [3 1/2 years]
rank in clan. leader of MountainClan [9 lives left]

they.all.think.my.fur.defines.me

At a glance, Scarr seems to be a mangy, ragged cat, stringy and scrawny -- hardly worth a fight. This impression is misleading; Scarr's rangy build and tangled fur belie the strength underneath. Scarredstar is long-limbed and wiry -- slim, a fast runner -- but she's far bigger than she seems at first glance, larger than most she-cats. There's also muscle under the ragged fur, but it's wiry muscle, not bulky -- less obvious, but none the less powerful for it.

Scarredstar has thick blue-grey fur, shaggy but warm. Rough rather than glossy, it tends to pick up dirt, but when well-groomed has the shape to give off a sophisticated look. Scarr isn't bothered with that, and never has been. Ill-cared-for, her fur is ragged and tangled; it lends to Scarr's ragamuffin, hard-bitten appearance, and she likes that.

Scarr's eyes are a pale, washed-out green. Despite their pale color, they have a look look to them; Scarr has spent valuable time learning how to look at a cat just so, as though she can see their secrets.. Combined with her somewhat Oriental build -- large ears and a fine-boned facial structure -- and the contrasting grey of her fur, they give her a somewhat exotic look.

Scarredstar has seen countless battles in her life thus far; her fur is battle-scarred, and her left ear is ragged at the top from some fight or another. The very tip of her tail is crooked, broken when she helped the attack at the Gathering; she will always bear this mark, won on a night she will always regret.

Ever since returning to the Clan, Scarr has worn a sort of collar around her neck. A large tooth, yellowed but sharp enough to cut, hangs on a dark leather thong tied close to Scarr's throat. Nocat is quite sure how Scarr obtained this decoration -- stories abound, and Scarr herself has named three or four different types of animals when asked what mouth it came from -- but there's one thing that remains consistent through all the tale-telling: whatever creature it was the tooth belonged to, Scarr was the one who killed it. She is never seen without this collar and it's probably too tight to fit over her head anyway; cats wonder how she got it on in the first place.

Scarr has the ability to sound MountainClan's "war cry:" the same hair-raising shriek a cougar can make, a sound very similar to a human scream. She rarely uses it -- it kills her throat to try -- but when she does, it's a sure sign that she's in a rage.

don't.be.fooled.by.my.attitude

On the surface, Scarredstar presents a smooth facade of the hard-bitten elder. Her tongue is at least as sharp as her claws and she uses it indiscriminately; she doesn't hesitate to tell a cat he's done wrong, and she doesn't soften her blows for the sensitive. She has a prickly temper and doesn't get along well with other cats -- while she rarely lashes out purely for anger's sake, she often walks off in disgust when something isn't going her way, and she has absolutely no tolerance for pride or idiocy. Though a very proud cat in her own way, life has taught her a harsh lesson in practicality.

Despite her world-weary, seen-it-all attitude, Scarr is not at all as old as she pretends to be. She is an excellent warrior in the prime of her life; a good hunter and probably the best fighter in the Clan, she has learned to use her potential to the fullest. Although her harsh attitude and limited tolerance for mistakes intimidate many young cats, she makes a decent mentor; beyond being good at what she does, Scarr is a good judge of a cat's personality and is able to adapt her teaching style to suit them.

On the whole, Scarredstar is very good at seeing into a cat's soul. Her own personal beliefs are finely tempered by real-life experience, and she's seen enough of lies and emotions to guess at the motives behind a cat's attitude; she has an intuitive understanding of what a personality does, and so is fairly good at guessing a cat's actions before they occur. At times she can be borderline-manipulative with this ability, but is too blunt and uninterested in politics to exploit it.

Although never much of a "people cat," Scarr has become more and more reserved as her life goes on. She has had no close friends since returning to MountainClan, and even Goldenstar didn't always know what was going on in her head; life has taught her that others hurt as often as they help, and unfortunately she is a strong enough cat to live without those to share her secrets with, although it's hard. Though she makes no attempt to hide her personality and rarely keeps things secret from other cats, few know her heart and none can see inside her head. She keeps her friends at a distance, and even the closest of them are little more than acquaintances.

Scarredstar lives hard by the warrior code; although it seems to bring her little joy or love, she has a harsh code of honor she applies to herself and sometimes others. She refuses to do anything that will damage her integrity, and works herself harder than she would make anycat work so that she can become a stronger being. Nocat is quite certain why, with this code of hers, she agreed to follow Goldenstar in attacking the other Clans, but then neither is anycat certain why she returned to the Clan in the first place.

Despite her short-tempered attitude, few cats have seen Scarr truly angry. Many things irritate or disgust her, but she finds few things worth the attention of a true rage. When she is angry, however, it's a sight to behold; it's one of the few times her hard-bitten facade is dropped to reveal the passion she rarely admits to feeling. She is a merciless enemy who is willing to give her all in a battle, and nocat wants to be on her bad side when they hear her war scream.

so far away
it's growing colder
without your love
why can't you hear me
calling your name?
can't break the silence
it's breaking me

and.you.think.you.can.see.my.life.in.a.glance

this.kit.isreachingforthestars

Starredkit -- kithood [0-6 moons]

Shimmersoul had always been a bit featherbrained. While sweet-tempered and a good warrior, she had always gotten squeamish at the sight of blood, and tended to jump for an idea at the slightest provocation, heedless of the consequences.

Probably the worst of those mistakes was Talonfall. A talented young warrior slightly older than she was, he was everything she could have asked for: handsome, charming, powerful, kind to her. He was also ruthless, bloodthirsty and just a little bit cruel; but he never showed this side to his mate, and she remained happily oblivious to all her friends' warnings. Whatever Talonfall thought about her, she was deeply in love with him -- and carrying his kits -- the day he left to lead a morning patrol.

He never returned. The three cats in his patrol were ambushed on the very edge of the border between FlightClan and MountainClan, the Rift; everycat has a different story of what happened then. FlightClan cats claim their patrol met MountainClan's crossing the border, and Talonfall's death was an accident when the MountainClan patrol was driven back; MountainClan claim the opposite, and that the FlightClan patrol overstepped their bounds in attempting to stay on MountainClan's side of the border. Gossips whisper that Talonfall had a lover in FlightClan, and that she was attempting to avenge her wrong by killing the outClan tom. Whatever the truth, the result was the same: Talonfall was pushed off the top of the Rift and, too surprised to catch himself in time, broke his neck at the bottom.

On hearing the news, Shimmersoul broke her silly heart. Perhaps she would have died then and there, but for the kits she carried; as it was, she was never the same again. Starredkit was born on the bitter edge of leafbare, just before autumn ended, along with her three siblings, Darkkit, Moonkit and Duskkit. Moonkit, the runt of the litter, died shortly after birth.

It was a hard winter. Cats starved, and neither Shimmersoul nor her kits were in the prime of health; Duskkit, who had also been weaker than his siblings, did not survive his first two moons. Starredkit and Darkkit did, however, and were the stronger for being the only kits in their mother's care; their first leafbare passed, and were strong as any young cat by the time newleaf -- and their apprenticeship -- came along.

pawsteps.towardtheheavens

Starredpaw -- apprenticeship [6-11 moons]

Shimmersoul died three days after Darkpaw and Starredpaw became apprentices, wasted away by what the medicine cat called disease and the romantics called grief.

To be honest, her queen's death affected Starredpaw very little; she was a solitary creature, and in all truth Shimmersoul had taken very little care of her kits, leaving them to fend for themselves and be cared for by the other queens. While she did grieve the death of a cat she had always known, grief was not unknown to her by this point, and even then Starr had a strong streak of practicality; as young as she was, she knew her mother well, and had a feeling the poor featherbrain was better off in StarClan anyway.

Darkpaw took the blow harder. It surprised Starredpaw, in later moons, how hard he took it; she could have sworn he was just as distant from Shimmersoul as she was, but he seemed to truly mourn their queen's death. A handful of days after the sad event, he vanished from the Clan, never to be seen again.

Starredpaw would have been more upset at this -- she was close to Darkpaw, or at least as close to him as to any other cat -- but she was distracted by her training. A promising young cat, she was considered one of the best apprentices in the Clan, and pushed herself harder than any other cat to keep that title. She would often be found out of camp in the middle of the night, training alone or with whatever cat she could bully into helping her; and for the first half-moon, her reign was unchallenged.

Then Goldenpaw came along.

He was a half-moon younger than she was, just as promising, and just as hard a worker; she remembered him, vaguely, from the nursery, where his queen and hers had often taken turns watching both litters. Any initial liking she might have had for the tom vanished the second she realized he was going to try and steal her spot of 'best apprentice,' and a bitter rivalry sprang up: both cats worked themselves to the bone trying to garner more praise from their leader and elders.

Starredpaw had no close friends in the apprentice den; really, no close friends at all. She really had no desire to grow closer to other cats; and anyway, she was too busy training to waste the time for it anyway. Still, there were nights when she watched the other apprentices curl up together, and she would remember Darkpaw and Shimmersoul and secretly long to feel the security of another body beside her; and on those nights she would slip out of the den and go for a walk, sometimes train alone till the sun rose and she was too tired to do well with her mentor in the morning.

Goldenpaw found her on one of those nights.

"Starredpaw? How long have you been out here?"
She stopped what she was doing and looked at him.
"All night."
"You're gonna be tired for training in the morning."
"I don't care."
The quick comeback startled him; concerned, he took a step closer.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." But she didn't look at him. He hesitated, then padded up close enough to touch her flank with his tail.
"Listen...there's no reason to be out here all alone. Next time wake me and I'll come out with you."

At the time she'd thought it was another ploy, an attempt to keep up with her in training. Perhaps it was. But gradually, the moons saw the two rivals drawing closer together. Their fierce arguments gradually lost their vigor, then turned into cheerful banter; their training sessions became less a competition, and more a time to share techniques and challenge their own ability; their nighttime spars became more frequent, then ceased altogether after the night Goldenpaw invited Starredpaw to share a sleeping space with his friends and him.

Starr was never certain when it was she realized she'd fallen in love with him.

eventheprettiestglamours.fadeintomysteventually

Starredmyst -- as a warrior/queen [11-20 moons]

Nocat who knew them -- except, perhaps, the fellow new warriors who’d seen every moment of their rivalry -- were surprised that, the very day Starredmyst and Goldenshine were given their warrior names, they announced that they were mates.

“Are you excited, Starr?”
She looked over at him as they sat in the midst of the Clan meeting, pretending her heart wasn’t pounding. “Yeah.” Then, a little wickedly, “Are you nervous?”
He was silent a moment. “Yeah.”
Both of them sat still as two young kits were called up to the leader.
“Did you --”
“Starr, I --”
“You go first,” said Starredpaw.
“I --” He squirmed a moment. “No, you.”
“I was just going to say, did you know those kits are cousins of mine? I’ve never really met them, though.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Well? Now it’s your turn.”
“It’s just…” He gulped. “I mean, it’s a big night and all, and, well, I was just…you know, remembering stories, and…whenever there was something, well, you know, a little frightening about to happen, they…well, see, it’s just…”
She stared at him askance. “Do you have a hairball or something? Just spit it out.”
He heaved a sigh. “This was supposed to be all fancy and romantic-sounding, but then again you’re so completely immune to all that stuff I guess it doesn’t --”
“Gold, you have enough time to say three more words before they call us up for our ceremony.”
He blinked it her, then finally said, simply, the three words her secret heart of hearts had always longed for, the three words she was always so practical, so cool-minded, she’d thought she’d never hear -- and for the first time she realized what it meant when they talked about soaring hearts.
“I love you.”

As the next three moons passed, Starr thought she was the happiest cat on earth. There was a glow inside her, a secret star of joy the darkest storm couldn’t diminish; she felt it every time she met eyes with Goldenshine, every time she felt his fur press against hers, and even the medicine cat’s announcement, scant days after their warrior ceremonies, that Starr was going to have Gold’s kits -- even that announcement couldn’t dim her happiness. She had always been irritated by the tiny, excitable little things, always underfoot; had always thought it was a soft job to care for them, not nearly as troublesome as hunting and fighting, as the difficult life she led. But for the first time she felt otherwise; felt that, if these kits were hers and Goldenshine’s, they were the living reminder of their bond -- and that made them more precious than anything Starr had ever in her life had to protect. Of course…that didn’t mean she enjoyed the coddling, and she kept working her best right up until just a few days before her kits were due -- perhaps too long, too hard.

It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. She was a strong, healthy young cat; it should have been easy, been perfect, and there should have been two healthy, squealing kits beside her when she lay exhausted at the end of that night. But the ancestors have a twisted sense of humor.

Something went wrong. StarClan know what. One unnamed kit was born dead -- and the other was so tiny, so fragile, they thought he might be too -- and Starr, distraught and exhausted, almost didn’t rouse in time to warm him awake, keep his small heart pounding. And then it didn’t matter anyway, because he died only a few days later -- and then, because of course there could be no way to make up for this devastating loss, only short time later when the medicine cat was making certain Starr would live through her experience, Starr was told she could never have kits again.

In just a few days, her whole world was shattered. Everything she’d lived for -- above and beyond Goldenshine, who had taken second place to the kits she had thought she would raise -- everything she’d lived for was torn away from her in just a few heartrending events. And Starr was young. She was only fourteen moons old. What was she supposed to live out the rest of her life being, doing, when the only things she’d cared about had died?

For a time Goldenshine tried to rouse her. He was convinced that it was their relationship that mattered, above and beyond any kits; convinced that Starredmyst would soon pull herself back into the light, realize there was more to life than what she had lost. She didn’t respond. A piece of her heart had been broken by the tragedy she’d had to face, and all she could feel looking into Gold’s eyes was the reflection of her pain; and so their relationship broke under the strain it was under, and Goldenshine gave up on her at last.

Goldenshine returned to his life and duties. With Starr so unresponsive to him, he worked just as hard as he had in the old apprentice days, and found himself rising in the Clan’s ranks. Starr did nothing of the sort. Ignoring the whispers, the sidelong looks, she remained in a dark corner of the warrior den, showing her face only when forced to, doing none of the duties she had been so fixed on as an apprentice. Lost in the past and her pain, she became a burden on the Clan, and none of the things the elders had always predicted her to be.

"How are you doing, love?"
The tom padded tentatively toward the she-cat's spot in the warrior den. She ignored him.
"Starr, it's Goldenshine. Over here, sweet - don't you want to hear the good news?"
"Stop talking to me as if I were a kit," the she-cat snapped, meeting his gaze just long enough for a heated glare. "I hear you well enough. What is it you're so fixed on telling me?"
He was used to her hostility now, used to it enough not to be hurt. Just barely. "I've become deputy."
"Congratulations," and her words were mechanical, though there was a time when she, too, had longed for the position. Had he not known her well, he would not have seen the flash of hurt in her eyes. Oh, yes, she still wanted that position - there was little else left to her now, now that their relationship had been killed by the trials put to it. He pitied her, and felt a guilty stirring of satisfaction in how the lifeless she-cat hated that.
There was a long silence, an uncomfortable one, and he almost turned to go. But, suddenly, she snapped out a question.
"Do you still love me?"
This hesitation was more than uncomfortable; it was devastated, tense. But his answer came levelly.
"I always will."
He had to leave her then.

Goldenshine’s promotion reminded Starr of all she had lost, all the things she could have still had, if only she’d woken from her trance in time. That conversation, if nothing else, reminded her of the world that still went on -- and looking at it again was almost more than she could bear.

falling.into.the.abyss

her vanishing act... [20-35 moons]

The very night of Goldenshine’s promotion, Starredmyst vanished.

Nocat knows where she went. She was a cunning she-cat, fast, clever, a good tracker; she knew how to make herself invisible. Cats tried to follow her, once they realized she was gone -- afraid of what she might do to herself, and driven by Goldenshine’s sheer panic. But her trail led through running water and over bare rock; even the most skilled trackers lost her as she fled across the land to MountainClan’s most eastern borders.

Goldenshine was devastated. At first, he feared for Starredmyst, feared that she had finally snapped and was fleeing to kill herself. Slowly his wits returned to him, however, and he realized that his mate had never been one to give in in such a way; he then wondered what on earth had been on her mind, for her to leave the Clan where she had built her life.

Slowly, through his misery, he began to realize that Starr was still very much a stranger to him…that the moons had separated them, and he could no longer see into her mind as he once had. She was just as much an enigma to him as to the rest of the Clan, now, and he had no idea what she might be doing. And so, though he mourned her, he began to feel a stir of confusion for the relationship that had once been so clear.

As for Starr…to this day, nocat knows where she went. The only hints, perhaps, are the scars on the leader’s pelt and the strange collar she wears around her neck; but though each scar has a story, only her fur will tell them, and each time she speaks of the tooth she wears, it is with a mocking gleam in her eye and a different tale on her lips.

She left the Clan a broken being, distraught, filled with self-disgust and hatred toward the world; and, in a way, she died because of it. When she returned to the Clan, it would be as a changed cat, entirely different from the young, happy creature she had once been -- a return, perhaps, to the long-ago days when she had no other thoughts in her head but the good of the Clan and her own ambition.

When the she-cat returned, she would call Starredmyst dead by her own teeth…for Scarredmyth had risen in her moons away from home, and Scarredmyth she planned to remain.

allthosemythsofheaven.havelefttheirscarsonmyheart

Scarredmyth -- deputy [35-42 moons]

Moons passed. Gradually, the tale of Starredmyth’s tragic romance faded into the back of everycat’s mind; everycat except, perhaps, Goldenshine, who would often lie alone in the depths of the warrior den, staring out at the stars and wondering if his love still saw them. She became nothing more than a way for the gossips to pass the time, a warning to young couples who thought their love would last forever.

Then the rogues came.

StarClan know what led them onto Clan land. Perhaps their home had been destroyed by Twolegs. Perhaps their Clan had expelled them. Perhaps they had always been what they were when they reached MountainClan: roaming marauders, come to steal, fight, hunt and kill.

And kill they did.

It was the most desperate night of his life -- all gleaming teeth and blood-spattered sunset. Goldenshine fought harder than he’d ever fought before, ruthless, tearing deep into flesh and using all his weight. These cats fought to kill -- and if they were going to hurt his Clan, he wasn’t going to hold back.
There was chaos all around him and the scent of blood was thick in his nose; he was almost afraid of killing his own, it was so confused, so tumultuous. They had to group together, Goldenshine thought, dragging his claws down the flank of a cat who tried to bite him. Frantic, he looked around for Spiderstar, from whom he had become separated early on in the battle.
That was when he saw her.
The shaggy, blue-grey pelt; the hard muscles under the rangy pelt; the alert expression as she slunk forward, creeping up on their leader. He felt his heart pounding and circled the battle, trying to deny what must be true. It couldn’t be his long-lost love…he began to run, praying it would be all right, praying that his eyes were fooling him.
He leapt with a snarl even as she crouched to pounce on Spiderstar; they landed hard in a tangled mess on the battlefield, his snarls reverberating through her body. Her eyes widened as they locked with his.
Pale green eyes.
“Goldenshine?” Her voice was hoarse; not just rough, as it always was, but ragged with horror.
His teeth were still bared. He didn’t know if he could kill her. But he had to -- he had to…
“This isn’t…”
She seemed almost unaware of his torment, twisting beneath him to stare at the fighting cats. Nocat seemed to have noticed the two of them, a small stillness in the center of the battle. He could feel her heart beating hard underneath him, and wondered if he dared rip her throat out.
Suddenly he felt her tense and began to dig his claws in, but she was strong, stronger than he was -- she’d grown powerful in her time away. She threw him off and began to run, snarling, shoving aside anycat who tried to oppose her -- he realized too late what she had seen --
An agonized shriek echoed across the battlefield, breaking apart all the separate battles as they turned to stare at who could have made such a horrible sound. And into the stillness that followed, two cats played a morbid game of tag; and into the silence, the one following, a lithe, furious blue-grey she-cat, let loose the haunting war-cry that MountainClan had always been known for.
It was still oddly silent as she leapt onto the other cat’s back and bit down hard through his neck. Nocat could do anything but watch.
Then he went down, dead as the leader he had just killed, and chaos broke out once more.

It was lucky, perhaps, that nocat saw Scarr’s near-betrayal; fortunate, then, that everycat had stopped to watch her take vengeance on the murderer of a leader she had just recognized. Spiderstar was indeed dead, and Goldenstar the new leader.

With all of the confusion, it seemed almost natural that the mysterious she-cat of the leader’s old romance should return. She made it clear, however, that that part of her life was long past, forgotten; and to anycat who tried to call her by her old name, she would answer only, “Starr is dead. Call me Scarredmyth.”

Regardless of the unusual circumstances, of her easy acceptance into the Clan, a second war nearly broke out when Goldenstar announced his choice of deputy that moonhigh. Nonetheless, Goldenstar would not be swayed; he refused to name anycat other than Scarredmyth. Perhaps he felt guilty for taking that position so many moons before, when she was in need; perhaps he still felt a bit of love for her and showed it the only way he could. Perhaps he was wiser than most cats believed, and honestly believed she was the best cat to take his duties on after him.

As for Scarr, she made no attempt to justify her promotion. She realized that only her own actions would convince cats of her ability and newfound loyalty; she knew that, though it was true, to tell them she had already been longing for the life she once knew would only arouse their suspicions. Her own sense of honor prevented her from using her behavior in the battle against the rogues: she knew perfectly well that she was moments away from killing the leader when Goldenshine attacked her, and as for killing the killer, she felt it had been more out of guilt than any sense of righteousness.

However, her behavior soon justified her in any eyes; she was as fine a warrior as ever she was in the Clan, if not better, for time out of the Clan had honed her abilities and granted her a good deal more wisdom than she had had as a young cat. She excelled in all fields, at least as far as the Clan was concerned.

And so life went on…until the pact.

Goldenstar was a good leader, but ever ambitious; he wanted the best for his Clan, and was fiercely protective of it – he cared naught for the others. Scarr was very much of the same opinion, although she was moderate to her leader’s radical; she bound herself hard to the warrior code, and – strangely, perhaps, for a cat of her experience – had a very deep belief in StarClan. Nonetheless, she had over the moons become extremely loyal to the Clan, and – despite the competition between them in their younger moons – held a great respect for Goldenstar’s leadership and decisions.

The pact, or so MountainClan has always claimed, was Wolfstar’s idea. One dark night he approached the Clan, alone with his deputy Redspirit, and demanded an audience with Goldenstar and his deputy. So it was that the two leaders and deputies spoke alone; to this day nocat but Scarr knows what they said, and never will she tell.

But the next morning was a day for rousing speeches, insinuating whispers. Whatever had been said, Goldenstar and Scarredmyth had eagerly accepted the idea, made the pact; on the next morning, they began to drop hints to the Clan, whispers –
“I’m so sorry we don’t have more prey for our growing apprentices, our young strong warriors. StarClan knows we deserve it.”
“Keep watch on the FlightClan border today. I have a suspicion that they may be plotting against us…not, of course, that they haven’t got the better land.”
“Ah, now, don’t tell such terrible stories about PhantomClan…they are cats, just as we are. And they need food, just as we do…the freshkill pile’s been awfully low, don’t you think?”

And so on. By that night the Clan was inflamed with dreams, ideas, resentment. Scarredmyth knew all was going well when Goldenstar leapt up to Highrock. He gave a speech then; a speech of injustices and resentment, of wrongs done to MountainClan; of hunger and tragedy, for their land was too small, too harsh; and, at last, of glory and hope – for he and the leader of PhantomClan, just as wronged as they, had come up with a plan to save them all.

Perhaps by then even Scarredmyth believed it. The words were certainly stirring enough – and suddenly the whole Clan was eager for the Gathering.

On that night, Goldenstar picked his strongest, fastest, most powerful warriors to accompany him to the Gathering: more cats than most Clans would bring altogether. Only a token two elders and apprentices came, to avoid suspicion – and even then they were the best of their kind: the youngest elders, who could still fight near as powerfully as any warrior, and the most promising apprentices, in fact Goldenstar- and Scarredmyth’s own.

It was a bloodsoaked night. Scarredmyth would never forget it. It was furious, terrifying; for the moment they attacked, clouds blocked the moon, and what was meant to be an organized attack dissolved into chaos. Everycat was fighting another – a different side, their own side, their own Clan – fury dissolved into sheer terror and the horror of the moment. It was kill or be killed; and many, many cats died.

It was only at a peal of thunder that the Clans managed to break apart; they realized, some of them for the first time, how dark the night had become. The leaders managed to gather the tattered remnants of their Clans and back away from the tumult; bodies were scattered about the Great Trees, and the ground was soaked with blood. It was worse than the battle in which Spiderstar had been killed – in sheer numbers as well as the fact that it was kin fighting kin.

The besieged Clans fled as soon as the battle broke; MountainClan and PhantomClan were left to see the result of the carnage they had begun. Scarredmyth was sickened by the sight, but held her head high; it was worth it, she told herself, it was worth it. And Goldenstar, who had died twice in the battle, was leaning on her for support; so she could not show weakness for even an instant, or their remaining Clanmates would panic for lack of leadership.

The rain began to fall as they led their Clan home.

Goldenstar and Scarredmyth fought to keep their Clan alive; ever the hardest workers, the most powerful cats in the Clan, they worked night and day to keep their Clan fed. But prey was nearly impossible to find; that which was found had to be eaten immediately, or be spoiled by the rain; and it was dangerous indeed to climb the slopes in such weather, when one could not see, could not scent, could not keep their footing on the steep slippery stones – it was in danger of death that cats went out every day.

Nonetheless, the leader and deputy hunted, time and time again; braved the slopes to bring prey home, round after round till they themselves were starved, exhausted, barely able to see. And still they refused to rest.

Scarredmyth was in camp when she heard the news. Not sleeping – never that – but trying to repair dens that the storm had destroyed. Goldenstar had been out on patrol…

“Scarredmyth!”
It was an apprentice. Scarr felt a pang of guilt looking at him, remembering how hers had died.
“Scarredmyth, the medicine cat wants you.” He was panting from the run. “Says it’s urgent!”
She followed him to where the medicine cat stood outside her den, looking grave. It was the same cat that had told her she was barren, all those moons ago; an efficient cat, but blunt. She had thought she’d become used to the quality, until she heard the words.
“Scarredmyth, Goldenstar is dead.”
Her heart stopped. She stared at the medicine cat, uncomprehending; feeling a strange echo of the past, for it was in very much the same way that this cat had spoken of Viperkit, when her only living kitten had died.
And she felt the same as she had at the time. It couldn’t be. Not in those flat, empty words. She had already lost so much; she was so tired; of course it couldn’t be. It was just too big a concept to wrap her mind around…
She looked at the medicine cat. “Take me to him,” she said.
He was in the den. Lying there, peaceful, golden pelt dark with water; and his neck was twisted, his head bent at a terrible angle. He had broken it on the rock.
It was so wrong…
Scarredmyth stared at him for a long moment, unable to take in what she was seeing. Her mind roared in denial. It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be…after all she had lost, all she had worked for, he was dead…
He was dead, the only love she’d ever had…
And something snapped within her, and she realized through her numbness that, though it couldn’t be, it was.
And she had loved him.
She bowed her head, tense; feeling the ache of her heart and unwilling to show it before these strangers. Gold, her mind cried, begging, Gold was dead. Her leader, her rival, her friend, her partner, her love had died. For the first time she remembered – allowed herself to remember – those days before, as apprentices, as young warriors, the joy and light and laughter that had come from having a close friend. Never before had she let these memories seep into her consciousness – for they had always before been sweet, and she had never again wanted to feel such sweetness after her kits had died – but now, in regret, in penance for the loss she had suffered, she allowed herself to feel them one last time. They were such beautiful things – and her heart ached to think of them, for now more than ever they could never come again.
For the briefest moment she dropped her guard as another cat would never see her do; her body slumped, her eyes shut tight, her nose buried in his soft, soft fur, to remember its feel, its scent, for all time. The apprentice thought he heard a choked whisper.
“Gold –”
But then that cat was gone. It was not as though her heart had broken – for that had happened long ago – but rather as though she had locked away its scarred remains, hidden far behind a wall nocat would ever get through.
She took a breath, lifted her head, and turned to look at the medicine cat.
“Have some cats bring out his body so the Clan can pay their respects. I will go to Moonstone as soon as he is buried.”

finallyreachedthestars.butthewoundsneverwentaway

Scarredstar -- leader [today]

She would never know, later, where she was at the time. She could see the stars glittering in the navy-black sky; and, in their shapes, the cats that stood among them. But she would never remember the ground beneath her paws, the land that surrounded her, even the scents that should have been on the wind – only the wind itself, chill and unearthly.

She was not worried that StarClan might ignore her, might spurn her of her lives. Ever had she been honest with herself, and she knew she had meant no harm in killing the other Clans; she had done it out of loyalty, not ambition, and realized she had made a mistake. She would be forgiven.

Nine cats approached her out of the darkness. She peered at them, recognizing some, but looking for one pelt in particular…

“Scarredmyth.”

It was Spiderstar, a wiry old brown tom. He had led MountainClan from the time of her birth – but he had died before she was ever made deputy. Reluctantly, she ceased her frantic search, and looked at him.

His eyes were solemn, but glittered with a laconic amusement. “Are you prepared to receive your nine lives?”

Wordlessly, she nodded. That was what she was meant to come here for. The old cat approached her and, speaking, touched his nose to hers.

“With this life I give you loyalty, even as you found it when you last saw me alive. Defend your Clan at all costs, and never forget that it is through companionship that we find strength.”

This rush of ferocity was not one unknown to her; she had felt it often throughout her life. Its power, its rage, though – she had never felt herself so strongly committed to a single cause…she heard a proud speech ringing in her ears; saw a loved one standing tall, excited; felt a rush of horror and fury as she ran to protect a friend about to die…and, at the last, felt the sharp sting of betrayal as she looked into familiar eyes and knew she was about to die.

Spiderstar pulled away and she found herself panting, staring at him in open shock; he grinned at her and backed off. Before she could do a thing – before she could even process the strange flood of emotion, before she could remember the color of the eyes that had killed her – another cat approached.

It was a moment before she recognized the grey-brown tabby; then she remembered it was Kestrelcall, the mentor she had worked hard to please. She had quickly outstripped the cat in sheer talent, but then, Kestrelcall had retired shortly after she was made a warrior…

The old she-cat tilted her head slightly, in a familiar old motion; she had been half-blind in one eye and had a way of looking at a cat in a very birdlike way. Without a word of greeting the tetchy old cat brought her nose close.

“With this life I give you honor. Choose your actions carefully by its guide.”

This, too, was a familiar feeling, but in its way just as ferocious. She felt the fierce pride of knowing she had done right; the wrenching indecision when one is forced to pit two beliefs against each other in one heart. She heard the ancient ritual that brings a warrior into his adulthood, saw a cat staring from a distance at his home, bittersweet in the knowledge that he was doing right by leaving. As Kestrelcall pulled away, she felt a familiar old ache of guilt, more powerful by far than ever she had felt it – the feeling that she had betrayed herself by her own actions, for many had died because of it.

The old cat did not look back at her as she walked off. A distant, calm corner of her old apprentice’s mind wondered if Kestrelcall had always been this taciturn, or if perhaps she was angry about the life she had given…

She felt a flash of startled pleasure to see the next cat who approached; Darkpaw, looking not a moment older than the day he had vanished from the Clan, never to be seen again.

“Scarr,” he said, with more quiet warmth than she’d ever heard in his voice before. He’d been a withdrawn cat, Darkpaw…

“What happened to you?” she asked him, impulsively; this strange night, the wrenching exhaustive experiences she felt, they had reduced her to the young cat she had once been – confused, inquisitive, not afraid to open her mouth.

But Darkpaw just shook his head. “Missed you, sister,” he said gently, and touched his nose to hers.

“With this life I grant you courage, that you might face the unknown with your head held high. Use it to lead your Clan through times of trouble.”

The predominant element of this courage was fear.

Terror of the known; terror of the unknown; terror of what must be done; terror of what cannot be accomplished; terror of what will happen; terror of what is being done. This and a thousand other fears battered her, howled in her ears, begged her to stop, to stay her tooth, to stand back and do nothing…

But greater than all these fears was the knowledge of what had to be done, what must be done. It was not a relief from the fear, but a weight so great as to make it insignificant; for it was a call to duty, an order that could not be refused. It was having your back against the wall and a voice in your head demanding that you act.

She saw a cat lunge at its attackers and die; saw another hide for long moments, terrified, before leaping into the fray and killing all in sight. She saw again the cat standing on the edge of all he knew, and felt this time the wrenching fear of the unknown, weighed again against an all-powerful sense of duty. She was a young apprentice, standing on the edge of the greatest battle of her life, and saw the one chance to save her leader. And, as she leapt, she felt a line of fire light her throat and knew the price of her courage.

She choked, caught back into reality as her brother pulled away. Darkpaw smiled at her, solemn. “Lead the Clan well,” he said, simpl., “I love you.” Then he walked back into the crowd.

If she had been startled to see her brother, then she was absolutely shocked to see the next cat who approached. Her mouth opened, then closed.

“Terra! You’re not -- I thought you never –”

The scruffy white she-cat chuckled, cutting the words off as they came. “You got yourself a convert, missy Misery. Consider it payback for all I taught you, hey?” Though her words were those of a cheerful elder, she seemed a bit younger than Starr herself.

“With this life, I give you wisdom,” she added, poking her nose forward. “Use it to – what was the phrase – ah, you know, do the right thing with it. Don’t be an idiot. Don’t waste too much breath thinking. Don’t make the same mistake twice. Don’t spend all your time moping.”

She felt, for the flash of an instant, the calm confidence of a leader, the quiet self-assurance of an elder who has seen the world. Then it was gone, replaced by a quick succession of decisions – events – emotions – terror and calm and sorrow and joy and grief and love – one cat after another running to their success or their doom – kittens, adults, elders, young and old, intelligent and foolhardy – and, at the very end, she felt herself again the wise old elder; but this was not a calm, contented wisdom, oh no – this was the wrenching helplessness of watching others succumb and die, ignoring all the advice you knew you could give -- this was dying slowly inside as helpless misery consumed you – this was watching your leader march out to die for the sake of mere ambition –

Terra pulled away abruptly and jerked back a few steps, grinning at her friend. “Can’t show you more’n that, but it’ll do for a while,” she said casually, turning to walk away.

“Wait!”

Unlike the others had – and casually ignoring their glares – Terra stopped, flicking an ear lazily. “Well, what is it?”

“I just wanted to say…” But as always heartfelt words seemed useless in front of such a practical cat, and she found herself grinning instead. “You didn’t do too badly with me, old friend. Cats don’t know what to think of me anymore.”

Terra laughed. “It’s the real reason I don’t belong here, hey?” she retorted, and vanished into the crowd.

She did not know the next cat who approached. He was a big tom, lithe and powerful, with an air of comfortable self-assurance that bordered on arrogance. A handsome cat, he; but something about him whispered to her instincts, beware, beware.

“Talonfall,” he said lazily, before she could ask. “Your father.” His eyes were piercing, coolly intent, as he looked her up and down. “Not too bad a job, are you, for a bleeding-heart?”

Her own eyes narrowed, but he bared his teeth at her in a merciless smile and touched her nose before she could speak.

“With this life I grant you ambition. Use it to make your Clan powerful.”

Scarredmyth then proceeded to receive lives from Moonkit and Duskkit, her dead siblings, who granted her the gift of family; Windpaw, the apprentice who had died for her in the battle, who gave her ferocity; Wolfstar, who had first approached MountainClan with the idea of betrayal, and now granted her slyness; and lastly Shimmersoul, her mother, who gave her love. These lives may be written out as well, given time and inclination.

But Starr never again saw her love of old. Goldenstar was not present at the ceremony.

all my fears
turn to rage...

----------

Why would you -- YOU, not your character! -- do well with a leader position on the site? What would make your character interesting as one?

Well, I started the site…=D
But seriously? I’m a very “nice” type of admin, the one that’s fair to the point of everyone wanting to kill her -- I see things through to the end and do my best by whatever person I’m talking too.
But I guess those are a bit more medicine cat traits; in terms of the “paperwork” type stuff a leader’s meant to do, I can be very organized when I want to. I’m good at managing things, coming up with organizational processes, etc.; I can be an absolute perfectionist once I get an idea into my head.
I’m also experienced at roleplaying -- four years, give or take -- and have been on a whole host of sites over my time on the Internet. I’m also a dedicated “writer” writer -- I’m working on a novel I hope to get published someday.

As for Scarr…to begin with, she does have some good leader traits, but they’re buried in the depths of her personality. I’ve played this character as a variety of different ages, with all sorts of different experiences, and I think I may like her best as a taciturn sourpuss. xD She’s very short-tempered, but at the same time very wise; it should be entertaining to see that in a cat.
Beyond that, she’s…interesting. I like the way her sense of honor conflicts with what she’s done, and the mystery of her past; I want to integrate them into the roleplay.

Tell me about your deputy.

Hmm. If someone’s interested in the deputy position, they can PM me with a link to their profile. I’ll speak to them, one-on-one, get a feel for their personality, their roleplay skills, and most importantly their leadership abilities; I’ll try to judge whether they have the skills to take over for me someday and, if not, whether they’re willing and able to learn them from me. Based on that and the talent displayed in their profile, I’ll make a decision.

Deputies will be free to do anything I do as leader -- accept/reject profiles, organize the boards, etc -- within limits. Those limits will depend on the deputy themself.

If you haven't mentioned it already - how often are you online? Are you on many other forums/roleplay sites? How much experience do you have with roleplay as a whole, with Warriors roleplay, and with admin spots in forums?

Hurr. If you know me you know I’m not nearly as active as I should be…
Let’s face the facts. I’m not nearly as active now as I was way back when I first came up with this site. I’m a busy girl with an addiction to real life as well as roleplay. Nonetheless, I’m dedicated to my sites and I’ll try hard not to leave you hanging.

As far as roleplay sites go, I’m a founding member of Warriors; NeverxSayxDie as well as a handful of small non-warriors forums.

Rp example:

This is from NSD (linked above) where I also play Scarr…at this point in the roleplay she’s still pretty young, and hasn’t changed her name yet. The thread this came from was basically an excuse for me to roleplay with myself in Scarr’s head, so I thought it would make a good example.

A cold breeze blew off the ocean, ruffling the grey-blue waves, throwing spray onto the beach. It was a cold day, and ice rimed the jutting rock Starredmyst fished from; the she-cat shivered despite her thick fur as a gust of wind blew flecks of water into her face. Overcast and cold as any dead-of-winter morning, today was not a nice day to be out on the water.

But Starr had desperately needed time to think; and with her father out and bumbling in the lives of others once more, camp had not been the place to do that. It was only a matter of time before Patchstar demanded her help, or Moonwhisker came to report the fool tom's actions and ask that she curb his thoughts, again.

So Starredmyst had jumped at the first glance of a low freshkill pile, and immediately volunteered herself for a solo fishing trip.

Not that I'll be catching any, but they'll expect that, the grey she-cat thought morosely, staring into the water. Fish was her favorite treat, but she had little to no talent where catching them was concerned. I never needed to catch any, not when I was younger. Not before Father started losing his grip...

Now I'm the one protecting him, and that means I can't hide behind him anymore. I never knew it would be so hard, a game like this. Pretend everything's normal and try to save my father's reputation from ruin...when it certainly deserves ruin, and I'm not so sure Daddy doesn't deserve to have it ruined for him anymore.

He used to be just a little -- silly. Tactless, but nothing Moonwhisker and Darktalon and I couldn't handle. But now...he gets so dead set on vengeance and looking his best, and -- he's going mad. Her eyes drifted away from the water, brooding. StarClan -- if Darksong and I aren't going downhill with him, StarClan's not helping that any.

So what am I supposed to think? Do I pull away? Just -- let him fall, let the Clan tear him apart? He's never been an evil cat -- just a bad leader. He shouldn't lead -- but he doesn't deserve to die for that, and I'm not certain the Clan would stop to think about it anymore. So what do I do?

It was the same old question that had been haunting her for moons, and moping over it didn't get her any closer to an answer. Starredmyst sighed -- and then froze as a loud plop sounded a mere whisker-length away from her rock. A fish was swimming closer...

One...two...NOW!

Starredmyst's paw shot out and she dug her claws into her prey's flesh -- flung it out of the water, towards the rock --

And got an unexpected faceful of her favorite delicacy as the fish managed to maneuver its course midflight, slapping her on the nose.

Panicked, Starr grabbed for the fish as it flopped downwards -- faltered --

And fell back into the water.

Starr let out an eloquent stream of curses, insulting fish as a race and that one in particular, then groaned and lay her head down on her paws.

I'm hopeless.

[/blockquote]