Duckstep of RiverClan

Duckstep
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Age: Thirty-two
Gender: She-cat
Rank: Warrior
Clan: RiverClan
Short Description: Small brown tabby with a slightly twisted leg and amber eyes

Appearance:

Duckstep is a bit small for a warrior of her age - she'd been small from the very beginning so her size now is no real surprise to her family or her clan. She stands with the top of her head reaching the shoulders of an average size RiverClan tom. She's dainty, petite, feminine and sleek, and she is also quite good looking, if it weren't for that twisted hind leg. It was broken in a fall when she was an apprentice and never quite healed right - it has given her a very slight limp.

It's fairly easy to understand where Duckstep's prefix came from. Her fur colour is similar of that to a female duck's plumage - a swirling mixture of grey-browns from light to dark. Her tabby markings are mackerel, stopping and starting suddenly over and over across her body. She has white "spectacles" around her eyes and a white maw and chest - the lightest parts of her fur.

Duckstep has bright, intense amber eyes. They are round in shape, and pop out of her face thanks to the white spectacles surrounding them. Duckstep also has a small scar running across her nose in a skewed 'x' shape.

Personality:

Duckstep is a hard-working she-cat. She doesn't let her limp get her down and will charge ahead of her clanmates to let them know she means business. She won't let anyone talk her down, even during leafbare when her leg gets particularly bad. The Clan comes first, and that means a lot to Duckstep. She wants to make a good impression - after all, what kind of warrior doesn't want to impress the leader? She does have ambitions, obviously, such as maybe becoming leader one day. Duckstep knows she's still a bit young and may not have a chance against other able-bodied warriors, but she still drives herself to be better than everyone else.

She can be quite nippy and has a sharp tongue when angered. Her sarcasm usually means no harm though - if another cat is offended or upset, she'll apologise for taking the joke too far. She was a huge joker when she was younger; the kind of cat who would play practical jokes on others - and whilst she still enjoys practical jokes, she's an adult now, a responsible adult, and has to act like one.

Duckstep can be fairly quiet and distant sometimes, preferring the company of more mature cats. She sometimes can't stand immature apprentices or idiotic warriors, but will compromise if she has to work with them.

History:

Ospreyclaw and Grebefeather had tried long and hard for kits for many moons. Grebefeather had become weak from failed litters and kits dying before they had a chance, and even though the medicine cat warned her there was a chance she could die if she tried again, she ignored the warnings. Thus, six surprisingly healthy kits were born. Ospreyclaw and Grebefeather were thrilled with the litter; they were a bit scrawny, one rather small, but they were their kits and they loved them. They had four daughters and two sons; Swankit was the first born. Largest, with long white fur she-kit. Heronkit was second; a scrawny shorthair grey tabby tom. After Heronkit came Goosekit, identical to Heronkit apart from being a she-kit. Duck-kit was fourth - the smallest, but the loudest - a shorthair brown tabby. Cootkit was fifth; sleek and dark brown. Finally was Gullkit, another grey tabby, but with long fur.

Everyone knew Grebefeather was weak. Although the siblings grew up in their first few moons ignorant to that fact, Duck-kit always had a feeling something was wrong with her mother. She would spend endless hours in the medicine cat den whilst other queens watched over herself and her siblings. She would near enough choke on her fish, or what she ate anyway. Towards the end of her life during Duck-kit's third moon, another queen had to nurse her kits as she stopped producing milk. Duck-kit remembers the day of her death quite clearly. Grebefeather had left the nursery in the small hours, giving her kits one last look over her shoulder before she slowly hobbled to the medicine cat den. She can remember the elders carrying her out, and the sympathetic looks the warriors gave them, and she hated it.

Whilst her siblings were quite devastated, Duck-kit always felt more betrayed by her mother's death. She blamed StarClan and receeded into a shell, snapping at anyone who spoke to her, even her father. She hated everyone and for a while was just a lump of hate and anger with no regard for the feelings of others. Then she became an apprentice and it all changed; Silvertail, just as much a ball of anger, became her mentor, and somehow, throughout the arguments, the not so gentle sparring sessions and shoving each other into the river, they became unlikely friends.

Duckpaw wanted to hate Silvertail but couldn't. Like her, he had lost his mother young, but he had been a bit older - a new apprentice. Whilst his brother got all the attention, Silvertail had locked everyone out. Duckpaw hated that she liked him, and hated his dumb face most of all. One day, out of the blue, she decided she would spite him. He had bet she wouldn't be able to catch a squirrel or a mouse, so she bet him a moon of cleaning out the elder's den if she could catch a squirrel.

Out into the territory she went, searching for the squirrel. When she found one, she didn't think of being stealthy. Duckpaw ran after it, straight up a rather tall tree, following it up as high as she could go, before the branches started to bend beneath her paws. When she realised the squirrel was out of her reach, Duckpaw understood the pickle she had gotten herself into; she was stuck StarClan knows how many foxlengths up a tree, with no knowledge on how to get down.

Cautiously, slowly, she mad her way down, testing each branch. It was slippery; it had rained that morning, and the moss covered bark was soaked. She made one simple error; she placed her paw a bit too far to the edge, and she went tumbling down.

Duckpaw doesn't remember hitting the branch and knocking herself out, nor did she remember breaking her leg during the fall. When she awoke, it was the dead of night and she was on her own. She tried to stand, but that was when she noticed the break; her leg was in the strangest shape she had ever seen. Then the pain hit her.

She lay under that tree, cowering until sunhigh next day. Silvertail had grown worried about her and sent out a group of cats to find her. Nervous Gullpaw was the one who found her, reassuring her he'd return with help before running off and returning with Ospreyclaw and Silvertail.

The two toms carried her to camp and put her in the medicine cat den. She spent the next two moons nursing that break, careful not to move too much, else it heal up horrendously. Duckpaw hated it; in those two moons, her siblings became warriors (Swanheart, Gullwing, Cootsong, Heronleg and Goosefeather). Though not as spiteful and jealous as she used to be, she made them promise to save a space in the warrior den for her.

When her leg finally healed up and the medicine cat let her out, she was fifteen moons and eager to restart training, despite the limp that remained. Silvertail reassumed his position as her mentor, and the two grew awkwardly closer, too afraid to confess that they liked one another, whilst everyone in the clan could see it was quite obvious. Duckpaw felt it was wrong to tell him though - she was still an apprentice, even if she was the eldest one. She loathed sharing a den with a group of rowdy and stupid kits, and longed for the day she became a warrior.

Another two moons of training, and Duckpaw earned her warrior name; Duckstep. Though unsure of her name at first, she came to like it; she did have a strange gait after all, and duck's did waddle. Duckstep loved the warrior den; her siblings saved a space for her as promised, and she enjoyed hunting and patrolling, but still, that nagging feeling about Silvertail remained. So, she flat out told him she wanted him, and was flabbergasted to hear he wanted her too.

Not a moon after her warrior ceremony, the young warrior was in the nursery, growing fat with Silvertail's kits. She finally felt as if everything were in place; she had a loving mate and family, and kits on the way. Everything felt right, felt good. Duckstep knew it couldn't be better, but had a niggling feeling that something could go wrong.

Go wrong it did. Heronfoot drowned in an overflowing river. Cootsong got mixed up with the wrong tom and was found floating in the river, blood leaking from her neck. Goosefeather couldn't take warrior life and ran away. And her beloved mate, Silvertail, died very suddenly, leaving the medicine cat baffled. Duckstep knew she still had Swanheart, Gullwing and their father Ospreyclaw, but she suddenly felt very alone, with no mate to help care for her kits.

Duckstep gave birth to a litter of four, though only three lived. The first born was a large, scruffy looking grey tom, called Mothkit. The second, and the she-kit to join StarClan before her first breath, was called Shrewkit. The third, another tom, was a brown and white cat called Teaselkit. The last kit was a small silver she-cat called Birchkit. Though Duckstep adored all of them, she wished their father were with them, but knew he would be with Shrewkit, looking after her in StarClan.

Her three kits were a pain at best. They were very loud, sometimes uncontrollable, and often got into angry arguments with other kits. Duckstep wished Silvertail could have helped her, but her siblings and father helped as best they could. Ospreyclaw would entertain the kits with stories of old. Swanheart would sit and groom them until they looked pristine and Gullwing would bring in fish and help them rip it apart. Duckstep knew this was the best for her kits, and was thankful to her family, but the hole in her heart she felt could never be filled, even with her family with her.

Her kits left the nursery and became apprentices, Duckstep watching them grow and blossom and even sometimes getting into fights. Even though they were apprentices, she was never afraid to give them a cuff around the ear if she caught them misbehaving, or send them to help de-tick the elders. Duckstep has grown stronger from her experiences, and though she misses her mate, siblings and kit dearly, she knows her clan needs her, and will work her hardest to make sure RiverClan is the strongest clan in the forest.