Whitestar | ThunderClan Leader

[Cai]

.:Name: Whitestar
.:Gender: Male
.:Age: 39 moons
.:Clan: ThunderClan
.:Rank: Leader
.:Life: First
.:Apprentice: Thornpaw
.:Love Interest: Open
.:Kin:

Snowfeather † [Birth mother; RiverClan; NPC]
Tigerfang † - [Birth father; ThunderClan; NPC]
Bramblefart - [Brother; ThunderClan; Yellow]
Iceflower - [Sister; ThunderClan; Kitty]
Leaftail - [Adoptive mother; ThunderClan; NPC]
Cloudclaw † - [Adoptive father; ThunderClan; NPC]

T h e. s e c r e t - k e e p e r.

.:Description:

At first glance, Whitestar might seem softer and less hardy than some of the other, thicker-pelted cats in his Clan. After all, with a coat as pure, snowy white as his, he is bound to stand out from the rest of his Clanmates, most of whom have the traditional forest-coloured fur associated with ThunderClan. Indeed, it seems there is not a single hair on Whitestar's body which is not as white as new-fallen snow, yet his silky pelt hides a well-sculpted frame of long limbs and taut muscles. Whitestar is about average size for a ThunderClan cat and his particular strength lies in his speed and intelligence rather than brute force.

There is an air of cool-headedness and complete control on Whitestar and he is a difficult cat to read. He also tends to give off a sense of quiet command, never needing to assert his dominance obviously. Nothing in Whitestar's image would suggest unkindness or cruelty, though he does seem quite cold in appearance, perhaps because of his icy-white fur. But if his fur implies frost, his eyes tell of the opposite. There is heat and a glimpse of the quick mind which lies behind his eyes, large and steadily assured. Their colour changes from soft green to tawny yellow as the iris spreads from the centre, and they stand out clearly from the sleek white surrounding them. Any scars do not show up on Whitestar's pelt and he is not missing any fur, giving him a pure and unsullied appearance. He is quite a beautiful creature in movement, for he has a highly graceful gait and moves like a running stream. There is a more subtle kind of leadership and command which radiates from Whitestar since he is not an ostentatious, loud leader.

.:Personality:

Whitestar is indeed a curious character. Nobody can quite label him as anything because he seems to be such an enigma. He gives very little away and is a secretive cat, though he does of course reveal what he deems necessary to his Clan, as is the responsibility of a leader. He is a cat shrouded in quite a lot of mystery, for not even those who can claim to be close to him know everything about him. In truth, most fail to even see past the top layer of Whitestar's personality. While he is pleasant and friendly enough to his Clanmates, there is an ever-present sense of impenetrability and coolness about him, something which provokes a range of responses in others. Some are intrigued by Whitestar's apparent secretiveness, while others find it a little unnerving. He is truly an intelligent cat, his sharp mind being the reason that so many doors opened for him and causing him to think over every possibility, radical or not. He will only reveal what he wants others to know and sometimes you simply cannot tell just how much he knows about you, for Whitestar has a way of seeming to know just a little bit more than you expected.

Whitestar is not particularly vocal, though he chooses his words well and makes them count. He generally does not beat around the bush and makes his point coolly and neatly, though when it so pleases him, Whitestar can dodge the point and change the subject quite effectively. Despite his high rank in the Clan, Whitestar does not keep particularly close company, often keeping cats at arm's length. No she-cat has won his affections yet, and it would take somebody special to make her way under the frozen surface to find the life beneath it.

Raised by a kindly adoptive mother, Whitestar once had wonderfully close relations with all his siblings and his foster mother's son. Things have, admittedly, changed a lot since the four were kits, most notably the fact that Whitestar and Hawkclaw are not on speaking terms. However, he maintains a close relationship with his blood brother who takes great pride in his position, and with his sister who has his unconditional affection.

.:History:

The time of chaos and disarray was in full swing at the time of Whitestar's birth. Everything was in disorder; kits were being born all over the place and so few were pure ThunderClan. Thornstar's regime was a mess. It was slowly leading ThunderClan into the eye of a storm which had the potential to destroy it completely. Whitekit himself was born to a ThunderClan father, but a RiverClan mother. The details on who exactly that she-cat was and how he ended up in ThunderClan are hazy, because the move happened when he was very young and few others took note of the disturbance, what with all the other mayhem occurring. The most likely explanation is that the she-cat died and wished her kits to be taken to their father. As a result, Whitestar does not know for sure what blood runs through him. He was also born at a highly unfavourable time: the height of leaf-bare. Everything was icy and cold and barren, resulting in three out of seven of Whitekit's littermates dying. He, along with two brothers and one sister, pulled through, and he has no recollection of having other siblings.

When Whitekit's litter was moved to ThunderClan, they had no mother. Their father was not much better, for he saw only that the kits were being taken care of by another she-cat in the nursery before he turned his back on them. Fortunately for the three young kits, there was another queen nursing just one kit in the nursery. Her name was Leaftail and, though she was quite old to have a kit, she was a good-hearted cat who took great care of her honorary kits. Her own kit was called Hawk-kit, and he was to be a cat who would soon create a long and difficult history with Whitestar.

From the off, Whitekit and Hawk-kit were best friends. This was a peculiar idea since they were also like chalk and cheese. They never agreed, they squabbled constantly, they laughed at each other's ideas, but they still were inseparable. Now, Leaftail made sure that all the kits she cared for knew from an early age that they were not like most litters. She told them as soon as she could that they were not related, though it did not mean they couldn't be siblings. She did this so they would be spared a shock later in life, and the kits were not badly affected by being told so young. It didn't stop Whitekit and Hawk-kit being as good as brothers, convinced that they and their brother and sister would be best friends always. This was not the case, however, for a few moons later, things changed.

Whitekit made friends with a young apprentice whilst still in the nursery. She was a kind, motherly she-cat who was sweet enough to spend time with her little friend each day. Her name was Skypaw, and she was one of the few who had received a StarClan-respecting mentor. Her decent training, combined with her natural good sense and pure heart, made her a glimpse of the past, a fragment of the ThunderClan of old. Even at his young age, Whitekit could see the difference between Skypaw and the other insolent, anarchistic apprentices who never set foot in the nursery if not to bully the kits inside. At almost five moons old, Whitekit was one of the older kits in the nursery and so he felt obligated to look out for the others. There was a group of apprentices led by a particularly spiteful tom, Shadepaw, who began to take great pleasure in "playing" with the kits, though of course their idea of play was a painful experience for the youngsters. Whitekit allowed himself to take the brunt of the ill treatment in order to protect the younger kits, though in the end this became unnecessary because of a certain she-cat. But in befriending Skypaw, Whitekit had pushed his brothers and sister aside, causing a rift between him and Hawk-kit, who disliked Skypaw a great deal. Whitekit could not bear to give up Skypaw, for he cared for her so much.

Skypaw had inadvertently managed to cause Shadepaw to fall for her quite heavily, though it was highly likely that it was looks-based rather than personality-based. She, of course, was repulsed by him and his behaviour, though she used Shadepaw's schoolboy crush on her to stop him from picking on Whitekit and his nursery-mates. From that day on, Whitekit harboured an infatuation of his own. Skypaw became simultaneously the mother figure which was missing from his life and the beautiful she-cat with whom he someday wanted to be. In his immature mind, he hoped that someday they might have the mystery called "love", despite having no true understanding of the word. He couldn't help it, and though he was pained to have alienated his siblings, he wouldn't stop spending time with her. It was not until disaster struck that he and Hawk-kit properly reconciled.

Almost ready to become an apprentice, Whitekit was a week shy of six moons. Still quite in awe of Skypaw, he looked forwards to being an apprentice with her and knew she would look out for him. He knew she was nearing the end of her training, yet he was still very glad to have an apprentice friend. But Whitekit was destined to never share a den with his older friend, because five days before his apprentice ceremony, there was a battle. A border skirmish with WindClan turned bloody, and Skypaw was killed. ThunderClan had lost one of its finest, and Whitekit had lost a most beloved friend. Bewildered and hurt, Whitekit was left to wonder why Skypaw never came to see him again. In this time, Whitekit turned to Hawk-kit, Bramblekit and Icekit for support, and suddenly they were like they used to be again. No she-cat to take Whitekit's time up, so the four were back to normal.

It would have been all too easy for Whitekit to have been corrupted with the skewed views on the Warrior Code when he became an apprentice at six moons, no longer with the companionship of wise Skypaw and suffering from the loss of her. There were many apprentices at this time, most of whom were unruly, disrespectful and poor future warriors. This, of course, was down to the failings of the warriors who trained them, and, even at the young age of six moons, Whitepaw knew this. He also knew how lucky he was to have a mentor who was one of the few remaining 'true' ThunderClan cats: Skypaw's old mentor. This cat, Stormpelt, was very old when he took on Whitepaw, and he had just lost his old apprentice, but he was also as stubborn as a mule and determined to pass on his wisdom to as many youngsters as he could. Stormpelt was deeply saddened by what had happened to ThunderClan, but he was also a fighter, absolutely convinced that someday the Clan would be made great again. It was Stormpelt's influence and Skypaw's memory which prompted Whitestar to one day do just that.

Whitepaw was a brilliant apprentice. Brilliant being used in relative terms, of course. The competition was virtually non-existent; the other young cats were all lazy, foolhardy and most did not even know half of the Warrior Code. Whitepaw, on the other hand, had had it quite successfully drilled into him by his wise old mentor, and grew into a fine young cat. At eleven moons, he became quite a young warrior, and it was not long before his new status was tested. A moon later, war broke out. ShadowClan and ThunderClan locked horns, each side led by a leader desiring the other Clan's blood. The battles on the border raged on for many days, and Whitefrost, newly named and scarcely out of the apprentices' den, was thrust into battle with his former mentor. Stormpelt, now his brother-in-arms, was old, too old for this sort of bloody scuffle. He paid the highest price for his dedication to ThunderClan, and for all his dreams of seeing it rise again, it was not to be. Whitefrost had the image of his dying mentor burned into his memory, forced to see it in the night when none could know he suffered after he closed his eyes. And how could Whitefrost help but want to seek his vengeance for his mentor? He killed the cat who ended Stormpelt's life, even though she begged for her life, but at a price. Now his white paws were dipped in another's scarlet blood, and it shook him. He had become what his mentor had been saddened to see. An immoral, unrestrained fool who had lapsed his hold on the Warrior Code.

It never happened again. The battles dried up, and nothing was gained. No land or prey for either Clan, no concessions in the border. Only blood staining the soil on either side of it. There was uneasy peace for some moons, for all Clans had to prepare for the chill of leaf-bare. It came swiftly, and breathed the dreaded blackcough into ThunderClan. Kits died, apprentices died, warriors died and elders died. Then, in one final strike before it subsided, blackcough took the life of Owlfeather, the old medicine cat who had seen the rise and fall of many cats in his lifetime. Now there were so few healthy, strong and capable warriors, yet a fresh litter of kits was now ready to learn the ways of the Clan.

Whitefrost took on his first apprentice, Daisypaw, and he trained her as well as he could. He was young and inexperienced, but he liked to think he still had Stormpelt's wisdom whispering through him into the young she-cat. He imagined the old cat would have been proud, for Daisypaw shone, and at the same time, ThunderClan was slowly ridding itself of the poison so many reckless cats had injected it with. Under the influence of the latest deputy, Lionheart, ThunderClan began to accept the Warrior Code again. This work continued, quietly and slowly, as Whitefrost finished his duties as a mentor. Near the end of Daisypaw's training, ThunderClan was shaken again. Almost exactly six moons after the end of the battle with ShadowClan, the leader, Dovestar, grew sick. It took more than one of her lives, and left her with only three remaining, as well as an abject fear of death. She was a shadow of her former self, and she could not handle the terror which came from brushing whiskers with death. Her spirit broken and her leadership now so undesirable to her, Dovestar slipped away from ThunderClan, silently leaving it to Lionheart's more capable paws. Whitefrost was quietly disgusted by Dovestar's failures as a leader.

The new Lionstar was a shining example of what ThunderClan needed to become. He was young and strong and had converted from lawlessness to the ideal warrior. His work was good, and his heart was strong, but he needed a deputy. He had few choices. One cat, though young, was the clear choice for deputy, but the problem lay in his not having completed training an apprentice. The newly-enforced Warrior Code forbade Whitefrost's appointment as deputy, but StarClan seemed to intervene, sending early frosts to the camp as a sign. And so on the next day, eighteen-moons-old Whitefrost was chosen to be ThunderClan's newest deputy. He watched Lionstar and learnt from him, thinking that his own time as leader would be many, many moons away. A great leader such as Lionstar would surely break the chain of short-lived leaders.

Not long after Whitefrost's appointment as deputy, there was a brief skirmish with WindClan. A few cats disputed the borderline and there were claims that ThunderClan cats had been spotted hunting beyond it. There was only one real battle, and it did not last long, for Whitefrost and Lionstar worked to calm the situation. A definitive borderline was set, crisis was averted and just this once, everybody lived. Whitefrost learnt a valuable lesson in diplomacy and he was in the middle of his sharp learning curve, turning from ordinary warrior to leader.

Lionstar was certain what he wanted for ThunderClan, and he did not even hesitate to banish his wayward brother, Flamefoot. This shocked Whitefrost, causing him to wonder whether he would have been able to banish his own brother if he had been in Lionstar's position. He, however, imagined that he was still much too young to be leader and had a lot to learn. He did not wish to be leader when he was so young, and Lionstar was doing good work for the Clan.

But the end came too soon for Lionstar. He was unlucky and a bit too reckless, losing life after life in quick succession. Eventually, a freak lightning storm hit ThunderClan, and with it came another threat to the Clan. A lone badger sought the relative shelter of their camp, and it blundered in, confused and dangerous. Whitefrost was ordered to ensure the elders and kits were well out of the way, but he failed to realise what his leader was doing. Lionstar went to tackle the beast himself, and it proved to be his last battle. In one last sacrifice for the Clan he loved, Lionstar took the badger with him to his death, and paid the ultimate price for his courage and perhaps his foolishness. Whitefrost struggled to handle the aftermath of Lionstar's sudden death, and whispers flew around the camp. Cats said that the leader's position was cursed, what with the leaders changing so frequently, and they thought Lionstar had been the only cat who could lead ThunderClan to a golden age. They also said Whitefrost was too inexperienced to pick up the reins and lead ThunderClan, and wouldn't match up to his predecessor's great example. Filled with fresh determination to prove the doubters wrong, Whitefrost took charge.

Repairs were undertaken. Morale was raised. Cats were convinced. Whitefrost received his nine lives, became Whitestar and thrived as a leader. Though he had been rushed into leadership, he knew what he was doing, and those who doubted him realised that instead of buckling under the pressure, Whitestar rose from it. He became a true leader, soon as respected as Lionstar, and able to lead without dictating, scold without screaming and decide without hesitating. Four moons later, Whitestar holds his position, untouched and perfectly secure. No life has been lost, and he is completely unconcerned by the fact that no leader of ThunderClan has lasted longer than a year and a half since Hollystar, the cat considered the last great leader, who died some forty moons ago. Whitestar is far more careful with his lives than his predecessors, and there is peace among the Clans. Perhaps he shall be the one to break the leader's curse and see old Stormpelt's hopes realised.

.:Other:
4 moons ago: Lionstar dies. Whitefur becomes leader (34 moons)
13 moons ago: Lionstar's declaration on ThunderClan's future. (25 moons)
13 moons ago: Flamefoot is banished by Lionstar. (25 moons)
18 moons ago: Brief battle with WindClan. (20 moons)
22 moons ago: Dovestar vanishes. Lionstar becomes leader. Whitefur becomes deputy. (18 moons)
25 moons ago: Whitefur mentors Daisypaw. (13 moons)
26 moons ago: Thornstar dies. Dovefur becomes leader. Lionheart becomes deputy.
26 moons ago: ThunderClan battles ShadowClan. Gorsepelt dies. (12 moons)
27 moons ago: Whitepaw becomes a warrior. (11 moons)
31 moons ago: Deerstar dies. Thornclaw becomes leader. Dovefur becomes deputy. (7 moons)
32 moons ago: Whitekit becomes an apprentice to Gorsepelt. (6 moons)
33 moons ago: Skypaw is killed. (5 moons)
37 moons ago: Whitekit's litter is moved to ThunderClan (<1 moon)
38 moons ago: Whitekit is born. (0 moons)
43 moons ago: Hollystar dies. Deerfoot becomes leader. Thornclaw becomes deputy.

.:Roleplay Example:

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"Lionstar is dead."

Whitefrost tried to keep his expression cool and strong, unfaltering as he faced the outpouring grief of his Clan. Such was a deputy's duty, to stand before his Clan and be the bearer of terrible news, the bringer of sorrow at the loss of a leader. Please StarClan that they did not shoot the messenger. Perhaps he deserved to be shot. He had not stopped Lionstar fighting alone. He had turned and failed to realise that Lionstar would be reckless and brave, saving the Clan and losing himself. If only he had stopped, and looked, and asked Lionstar to wait for assistance. Then... then...

Lionstar would still have gone. It was who he was. He would never have listened; he would have done the courageous and stupid thing, and he would always have gone to fight the badger. This death was not one by Whitefrost's paw, and as he stood before his Clan, he raised his head, clearing himself of guilt. The cats of ThunderClan yowled and cried for their fallen leader, because they had loved him and because he was young, too young by far to meet his end, locked in battle with an intruder who threatened his Clan, but in time they would heal. They would heal as all wounds did.

"Stand together, cats of ThunderClan." Whitefrost's voice was grave. He hoped no cat would be able to see building panic, or hear the pounding of his heart. He was young, but he would take the entire weight of responsibility upon his shoulders now. He would become leader of ThunderClan, the very position which cats had called cursed. "We never falter, even when the storm rages. Lionstar died in valour and courage. Now we must live in the same, to honour him and to prove that ThunderClan lives on through the hardest of times."

~ ~ ~

Lionstar's greatest wish was to see ThunderClan great again. Whitestar would make sure it happened. The work which was started would be completed, and the chaos which had nearly broken all four Clans would be only a memory, never again something which lived. Whitestar's reception of nine lives had gone smoothly, and he caught the mantle of leadership from where Lionstar had thrown it, tumbling to his death. Now Whitestar was leader, and it was bittersweet. He had nine lives to live through, while every other cat had one. How many more would he have to see die, while he lived on because he had to? Would there be another Skypaw, innocent and lovely, but snatched into death before her time? Or another Lionstar, bold and brave as he met death? Whitestar gazed out to the night sky, his heart sombre. One of the stars marked Lionstar's resting place. All of the stars marked a life.

"Sleep well, old friend."

I Sit and Think:

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

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[Sporelett]