Banditfoot {Riverclan}

Banditfoot

Age: 26 moons
Gender: She-cat
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Riverclan
Short Description: Blue-gray she-cat with pale green eyes.

Appearance:
Many cats have told her that she resembles her mother, in fact before the other clans knew of her mother's death at the gathering they had mistaken her for Hailfur. Banditfoot has a very beautiful blue-gray coat. Often making her look rather regal amongst the tabby's and gingers.

Her muzzle is a tad bit on the broad side, making the bridge of her nose broader then most cats. This often causes breathing problems, when she runs for an extended period of time. She is also prone to wheezing and coughing. But this is something that cats of her heritage had manged since ancient times. Her troubles don't hinder her in any way, nor does she find them as a hassle.

Banditfoot's ears, are a tad bit on the large side, making her face look smaller. While her eyes are a beautiful shade of green, often representing the color of fresh morning grass. Her nose is a darker shade of gray, and sticks out quite noticeably due to the light silver hairs that cover her muzzle.

The she-cat's body structure is quite slender, but her legs are stocky. Giving her an amazing amount of strength in her shoulders and thighs. Unfortunately the she-cat wasn't made for running, with her shorter legs and breathing troubles, making running an irritable task.

At last her long glorious tail, extends about three to four mouse-lengths from her hind-quarters. Making her over-all appearance very much like a high-class cat.

Personality:
Banditfoot is very loyal, she grew up believing that the clan was all that mattered. If anyone were to threaten Riverclan, she'd be on their tails the second it happened. Being as loyal as she is, she is often biased when it comes to outsiders.

Her opinions are often only stated for the benefit for the clan. This she-cat will never say anything that will hinder that loyalty, she will always be for Riverclan. Never shall she oppose it.

As a warrior she has been mentored by one Riverclan's longest living cats, although she no longer treads this world her lessons live among present day Riverclan. These lessons live within Banditfoot. According to her mentor everything must be done to the most perfect degree. Nothing can never be half-done, nor can it be forgotten.

Banditfoot is always true to her word and is quite trustworthy, but it unlikely that you'll be sharing any secrets with her. She was never one for emotional connections with other cats, so social interactions are limited.

The blue-gray she-cat also seems to never have heard of the word fun. She'll never do anything for pure enjoyment, she's only concerned for the clan's well-being, and would rather watch someone be happy than be happy herself.

Love is also a foreign word, the only cat to receive her love had been her own mother. And that love itself hadn't even been truly affectionate. The only way Banditfoot would ever have kits would be through the loyalty of her clan, not through the love of another.

History:
One could say that cats tend to live the lives of their parents. When born each child is molded by the surrounding expierences, they live off of what their parents give them. They absorb what is wrong, what is right. All of this is based off of who raised them. It was quite approiate that Banditfoot became an exact copy of her mother.

Hailfur was a dignififed she-cat, she was known for her skill in battle, and her contribuation to the clan. Her loyalty to her clan showed no faults, it was pure and true. Hailfur hardly showed any emotion, besides determination. The she-cat had grown up during the times of the great Lionstar, and she grew up with the two beautiful sisters of Icestorm and Willowfoot.

But she was never much of a talker, so her existance in the clan was only known for her legendary fighting skills, it was quite a shocker that the she-cat were to be expecting kits. The father had been Leopardclaw, Lionstar's brother. It was never a thing out of love, simply to help the clan. Hailfur had been approached to extend her genes down to the next generation and she agreed. The breeding between such great cats had been arranged to produce, strong, skillful kits.

Hailfur had been expected to birth two days before the next gathering, fate had it that the kits were born during Riverclan's greatest downfall. During the past three moons a cold war had been raging between Windclan and Riverclan over prey. Nothing had been resovled and the argument ended with war.

Windclan infiltrated Riverclan's camp as the morning's light hovered above the horizon, the attack had been unexpected. As the battle raged on, Hailfur had went into labor, it was the only moment in her life that she had been absolutely terrified. Icestorm, Snowstar's mother, had recently watched her daughter become an apprentice two moons before, but had decided to stay a queen and help care for kits.

The pretty white she-cat vowed to keep Hailfur safe. The blue-gray she-cat watched horrified as a Windclan tom tore Icestorm apart, her blood splattering the nursery floor. At once the tom was knocked down by Willowfoot, Icestorm's sister. But all too soon was she brought down as well.

All this happened in a span of mere minutes, while at the same time Hailfur had given birth to her kits. Two puny she-kits, much too weak to make it through the cold leaf-fall day. It seemed as an unfair trade, the two most striking she-cats in the clan for two sickly kits.

The battle ended moments later when Lionstar and the senior warriors were able to drive them away. But it had taken a toll on Riverclan. Many young souls were lost, as well as old.

As the day went by Hailfur watched as her first born daughter slowly drifted to Starclan. What was left was a tiny gray she-cat, her fur was plastered to her skin. While she couldn't even usher the quietest meow.

Leopardclaw entered the nursery as the day came to an end, his fur was covered with dried blood. While intricate scratches scattered his pelt. Sighing he cast his gaze down to the single she-kit, quietly he meowed,

"What have you named her?"

Hailfur shook her head, not even one name had crossed her mind. She was too distraught over what had happened. Leopardclaw absently nodded, and then continued examining his daughter. Slowly he murmured,

"Banditkit, she'll be named after what had happened today." With the flick of his golden-tabby tail he left his mate to take in what he had said. Looking down at the measly she-kit, the queen couldn't agree more. This battle had done nothing but stolen Riverclan's pride.

That was the last time Leopardclaw had acknowledged his part as a father. Hailfur wasn't a nurturing mother, she was strict and to the point. She would never lie to her daughter or even fib. Everything was the hard, cold truth. Banditkit grew up believing that the clan was the only one and most important thing.

Relations with other cats were futile, but not mandatory. The little kit wasn't one to talk, but she could hold a rather strong facade when discussing what she believed was right.

As she reached her sixth moon, her father had died after green-cough ravaged the camp. The case of green-cough had also killed Midnightstreak, Riverclan's deputy.

Snowcloud, Icestorm's daughter, had been chosen as deputy. She was quite young and many thought she was chosen because she resembled Lionstar's dead mate, Willowfoot. But Snowcloud had been Starclan's choice, and ended up serving her clan well until the end.

Banditpaw's mentor had been Lavenderfang the oldest warrior in the clan. She was practically on the brink of retirement, but she still was the perfect she-cat to train Hailfur's daughter. Her mentor was a perfectionist, meaning everything had to be exact.

Before she reached her eleventh moon, her mother had died in a battle skirmish over a stolen squirrel. It had been a foolish accusation, saying that Riverclan strictly depended on fish. But
the deed was done, and her mother was dead. Hailfur's death heavily affected Banditpaw, her mother had been the only she-cat to truly understand her.

But as the moons passed by, and she was made into a warrior. Banditfoot gradually accepted her mother's death and learned to live with who and what she was.

The air reeked of death, blood occupied the nursery's floor and it wasn't because of the recent birth. Throat tight with emotions Hailfur watched as her mate studied the puny, helpless kit. Tentatively he reached out a paw, prodding her tiny figure. The kit didn't utter a sound, it was all too obvious that she wasn't going to make it.

"Banditkit, she'll be named after what had happened today."

-Leopardclaw of Riverclan.