Fireclaw ;; The Brash

[roscoe]

FIRECLAW

Name|
Rayla, Firepaw, and Fireclaw

Gender|
She-cat

Age|
Fifteen Moons

Rank|
Warrior

Clan|
Streamclan

Beliefs|
Fireclaw couldn't care less if Starclan existed or not. All she knows is that herself and her clan are real as real can get, and that's enough for Fireclaw any day.

Parents|
Mother: Duchess (Kittypet) [NP] x Father: Fredrick (Kittypet) [NP]

Siblings|
Older Brother: Apollo "Opp" (Kittypet) [NP], Older Brother: Hermes "Hermy" (Kittypet) [NP], and Older Brother: Zeus "Z".

Other Kin|
Grandfather: Magnus (Kittypet) [NP] and Grandmother: Nana (Kittypet) [NP].

Mate|
None yet.

Crush|
None yet.

Kits|
None yet.

Apprentice/Mentor|
None yet.

Appearance|
Fireclaw is a red classic manx with pale brown eyes. Fireclaw is basically red stripes over orange-tan fur; her short pelt excellently leveled to make it easier for running and leaping-- all that weight in a winter coat just slows a cat down and lowers their altitude for jumping.

Long, limber legs; muscular but not bulky-- spine acutely arched in a way that makes Fireclaw great for hunting rabbits and birds. Large ears, a keen pink nose-- the missing tail, though, is a genetic trait.

Fireclaw's face is mostly orange with a few stripes here and there; her under jaw white, as well as the front of her neck. Her paws are completely orange with a darker orange underneath them.

Last but not least, Fireclaw's under-belly is a pure orange-tan color; no stripes anywhere but on her sides, flank, back, upper legs, cheeks, and forehead.

Personality|
Fireclaw is a brash she-cat that'll go out of her way to announce what she thinks and feels-- no matter how rude it may seem. Impatient, sharp-tongued, irresponsible, and a jitter-bug, Fireclaw is one she-cat you don't want to irk.

Impatient-- always hasty and eager to do something, Fireclaw never thinks about the consequences until after she's done leaping into the unknown. Sometimes she doesn't think at all and keeps going, leaving a path of minor distraught in her wake.

Sharp-tongued-- witty and sarcastic, Fireclaw's rudeness goes far; this she-cat knows no boundaries: or self-control. She says what she wants, and when she wants to. Fireclaw has no idea that sometimes she hurts the others around her more then she knows; who knew words could be so powerful??

Irresponsible-- Fireclaw wouldn't know the difference from a mouse and a rule; it's all the same to her. Whether it's hunting, battling, or listening to a lecture; the world is, to Fireclaw, her playground. And this she-cat will do as she pleases.

Jitter-bug-- Fireclaw can't stay still to save her life. She's always constantly doing something-- has to do something. She preoccupies herself. You'll always find, no matter what time of day (or night), Fireclaw in the middle of something-- chasing moss-balls, playing with kits; never doing a lick of work except hunting.

Skills|
Fireclaw is an excellent rabbit and bird hunter. Her build is specially made for this type of prey; strong, lean body for leaping and running-- perfect for catching birds and rabbits. Other animals, though, are more difficult for Fireclaw. Mice and squirrels are part of Fireclaw's "No-go" list. Voles are an exception.

Battling is something Fireclaw enjoys doing-- because, well, it's doing something; that, and she gets to use the other half of brain during this oh-so-exciting occurrence! ( ? /shot'd)

Fireclaw is an average fighter, and quick on her feet. She isn't powerful, but she uses her agility and leaping skills to her advantage.

She's not the greatest tracker, but she's decent enough on tracking a stale but strong or semi-strong scent. Though rain, fog, mist, or other natures defenses disrupts Fireclaw's nose and we're all back at square one. Again.

History|
Fireclaw-- known as Rayla back then-- is a former kittypet. She was one of those "fancy" kittypets that lived in big, large twoleg camps on the outskirts of the clan's and farm territory and was spoiled rotten just like the rest of her family.

Except this she-cat wanted to be spoiled with adventure; so every morning Rayla would sneak out into the garden, pass the baby larks, the bonsai bush, padding across a small, yet hard whitepath and onto the yellow (ugly, in Rayla's opinion) picket fence and stare out at the land beyond until her twolegs got worried and called for her.

She did this almost everyday-- then one morning, Rayla had received a visitor.

Fang's flashing, Rayla snapped at the closest thing to her-- the toms ear.

The tom gave a hiss of displeasure, but didn't back off as he gave her a harsh smack on the head-- Rayla blinked twice, stumbled-- her vision blurring with black dots and stars the color of that ugly picket fence she hated so much.

"If you're through with your territorial pissing contest with me, she-cat, then I'll be most obliged to say what I'm doing here-- but that isn't going to happen anytime soon, now is it?" The big tom rumbled. "Until tomorrow, she-cat." The main coon bounded away; clearing the fence and stalking away into the forest's edge that stared at Rayla's twoleg domain like a dark, gaping green wound; a wound that Rayla so wanted to heal.

Watching, dimly, as the tom raced away, Rayla's own thoughts raced with questions and bumbling thoughts; confusion rearing it's little head.

Tommorow....? Rayla blinked, recovered, then shook herself, licking down her ruffled fur. "Mouse-brained hooligan." She murmured, retreating back to the inside of her "home".

The next day.

The tom appeared again-- he looked like he had been waiting on the picket fence for a while; his eerily calm expression making Rayla restrain a unwelcome shudder.

"You know how long I've been waiting here, kittypet?" There was annoyance in the toms voice; but there was also amusement-- Rayla could tell from the little gleam in the corners of his eyes and light purr that made his voice rumble.

Like gravel, Rayla noted.

"What is your purpose?" Rayla blurted out, tail giving a lash of frustration at it's owner's lack of self-control.

"My purpose is to serve my clan, she-cat-- the wild and it's domain are our home... I've seen you look at it everyday; that longing expression on your face."

Not exactly what I had in mind, but oh-kaaaay...

"Your....clan?" Rayla quizzed slowly, ears slowly flattening. "There are more of you-- you barbarians?"

That earned a whooping, purring laugh from the big tom.

"Yes, she-cat; there are more of us "barbarians"." The maine coon gave a not-so-graceful snort of dry amusement. "What did you think clan means, kittypet? A festival? No. I think not-- that would be... unwarriorable."

Unwarriorable...good gracious-- is that even a word?

"Unwarriorable.... so you're a warrior." Rayla stated boldly.

"No, really? For sure I thought I was an elder."

"Hey!" Rayla snapped. "You don't have to be so mean about this! After all, you were the one who intruded on MY territory!"

"And you were the one who attacked in the first place-- does your injury still...hurt?" The tom asked, tail coiling around his paws like a furry snake.

Rayla winced at the memory-- how fast and hard the tom's paw and came down onto her, nearly sending her into la-la-land. Not something she wanted to experience again.

"A...a little." She admitted.

"Good."

Rayla, for the most part, was startled to here this-- and angered.

"What?! Why?" Rayla spat; fur prickling.

"A warrior must deal with their pain-- they must embrace it. For then shall they be admirable." The tom stated coolly.

"Stop-- stop it now!" Rayla cried, distraught. "Why do you keep on talking about these "warriors"?! Who are you, really-- what do you want from me??"

Okay, a little over-board, Rayla. The she-cat thought to herself.

"A clan must have it's warriors, she-cat-- and you are a good... subject... for this. You battled fairly well yesterday." The maine coon replied, running a paw over his ear.

"Me...a warrior?" Rayla couldn't help it-- she twittered like a crushing she-cat. "Well, I did manage to get your ear..."

"You should have gone for my throat."

"What?! Why?"

Ugh-- repetitive much. Rayla scolded herself, narrowing her eyes in thought.

"To kill me, of course." The big tom replied.

Silence.

Then Rayla gave a shaky intake of breath. "....What?" She gasped softly. "Kill...to kill you?" Utter horror crossed Rayla's face.

"Now that we're through with that-- let me tell you about the clans, if you're ready to listen..." Said the tom.

And Rayla was-- she listened, hooked on the big maine coon's tale; how the clans came to be, what they were; what they strived for-- her horror slowly slipping away as the tom went on.

"And that is the story, Rayla."

During the "story", as the tom called it, they had managed some introductions along the beginning.

Rayla found out the tom's name was "Clay" and "Fang". An odd combination... but it somehow fit.

"Why are you, exactly, telling me all this?" Rayla interrogated, pressing the maine coon for answers.

"I already told you, Rayla-- I want you to be a warrior. A STREAMCLAN warrior. Are you not interested in hunting along side the wild? To live in it's domain-- to follow it's code?" Clayfang enticed, smiling charmingly at the kittypet.

Rayla opended her mouth, but nothing came out-- only a squeek.

Clayfang chuckled. "My dear, I shall give you tomorrow to decide on what you want to do. Until then, she-cat." He disappeared into the forest again, Rayla watching until she saw the tip of his tail slide into the undergrowth.

"Tomorrow is shall be, Clayfang." Rayla whispered to nothing; retreating once more into her "home".

Wood brown eyes glinted from the foliage, witnessing the she-cat slowly slink through the cat-flap.

A cruel purr was Rayla's unknown response.

The next day.

Rayla didn't find Clayfang on the fence-- instead, she found him near the forest's edge; waiting patiently.

How did he know...? She thought.

As if reading her thoughts, Clayfang spoke.

"How did I know you would join?"

Since that experience with the Streamclan warrior, Clayfang, Rayla became a warrior herself-- Fireclaw-- at Thirteen moons old, in the clan-- Streamclan-- that had only been around for five moons.

After all, what Fireclaw wants... Fireclaw gets Spoiled with a soon-to-be adventure, Fireclaw will always remember the day she and Clayfang had met... with a hiss!

Adventure isn't something that you look for-- it's something that happens gradually. You go searching for it, and it will dissapear-- and never come back. ~Fireclaw