Raccoontail

[Pyro]

Name | Grant Raccoontail

Gender | Tom

Age | 30 Moons

Rank | Warrior

Clan | Meadow

Beliefs | Raccoontail doesn’t reflect too much on whether or not StarClan exists. For others’ sake he hopes that StarClan does in fact exist, if only because those who believe tend to put all their stock in it. StarClan for him though? Nah. Raccoontail isn’t the biggest fan of settling down and trying to make a life in one place. When he’s ready for the last journey he doesn’t want it just to be a journey to StarClan. He wants it to be one continuous path, one he'll hopefully be able to walk with Abigail.

Parents | Lee [m/father/np] x Dixie [f/mother/np]

Siblings | x

Other Kin | x

Mate | Abigail [f/dc]

Crush | x

Kits | x

Apprentice/Mentor | x

Appearance | A cat of average size, Raccoontail doesn’t cut a very impressive figure. His coarse brown-grey tabby coat doesn‘t have any remarkable qualities either, other than the fact that his stripes don’t really stand out against the darker grey of most of his back. This darker grey fades to a cream then white, his stripes becoming more visible as the color lightens. His chest and neck are the same, fading to the same creamy white.

Raccoontail’s tail is slightly more interesting than the rest of him, long and puffy, with its distinct banding standing out without issue against its light grey fur. His eyes, though, are what really draw others. Warm and brown, they aren’t the typical mischievous trickster eyes often possessed by loners who wander. Nor are they the cold eyes of someone who has seen much death. They are attentive, always attentive, but neither are they overly curious. They are a listener’s eyes.

Personality | For a cat who likes to be on the move, Raccoontail isn’t very active. He likes to take things slowly, and he’s stubborn as an ox about it. Getting Raccoontail to make a quick decision is like leading a donkey: you can poke and prod, but the fact of the matter is it’ll still plod along at its own pace and on its own time; not your’s.

The latter being said, Raccoontail is a pacifist to a certain degree, not just because he doesn’t like the quick rashness of fighting, but because he can’t see the sense in it. He’ll fight when pushed hard enough (because he’s not crazy enough to ignore a cat clawing his eyes out), but he won’t like one second of it. So if not a fighter, then a lover, right? Wrong. Raccoontail is not a lover, nor a fighter. The only cat he’s ever loved (besides his parents) was Abigail, his deceased mate, and some small part of him wants it to stay that way. That small part of him doesn’t want to have to lose another loved one. It’s why Raccoontail’s made it his mission to have a life that’s always on the move. A life in constant ‘roam-mode’ doesn’t just take him to interesting places, it also keeps him from getting too attached to anything.

Not wanting to get attached to anyone, however, does not mean he doesn’t like to talk to other cats. In fact, he loves to have company, as long as it’s interesting company. Raccoontail can get bored when talking very easily if his companion isn’t particularly interesting, and he won’t hesitate to sigh and drift off, or just plain walk away. He’s a little more willing to listen to a boring cat if they want to talk about their problems though. Raccoontail is always willing to listen to a cat’s life story, or list of complaints. Not only do their issues tell him about them as a cat, but if there’s something he can do to help, he’ll do it. Maybe not gladly…but his parents raised him to be polite to those in need, and respectful in general…though, he has his sarcastic moments.

As for Raccoontail’s own problems, his way of dealing with them is usually to not deal with them…except for the case of his mate’s death. Abigail was hit by a train before his very eyes and he can still remember vividly her broken body. Not wanting the terror of that moment to rule his life, he has dealt with both the loss of his mate and his fear of trains in an interesting way: by traveling in them and by something so insane, most cats mark him off as a lunatic. Raccoontail will put his head between railroad tracks and let trains thunder over his head. Over the moons he’s come to enjoy the adrenaline rush, giving him a second reason to perform the ludicrous act.

Raccoontail's motives for joining MeadowClan are purely social. A she-cat caught his eye and, wanting to get to know someone for the first time in a long time, he decided to join her clan. He isn't particularly loyal to the clan itself, but he's one of its best hunters and does his fair share of patrolling.

Skills | A life of wandering has given Raccoon tail a little knowledge about a lot of things. A lot of it never comes in handy though.

Raccoontail’s practical strength is hunting. He never had clanmates that could hunt more than enough to make up for a bad hunter, so he, like most loners has had to rely on himself for food. Bad hunting means no food, and his swift feet and agility made sure he was never really a poor hunter. A long puffy tail compliments his fast feet, assuring he always has perfect balance.

Raccoontail’s weakness lies in fighting. He isn’t outstandingly strong and his unwillingness to fight means his skills are shoddy at best.

History | ”I don‘t like it either, Abby, but what choice do we have?

If only his parents could see him now. Their Grant, the one they raised so well, the one they raised to be polite as pie, and respectful as soldier, in gang. A cannibalistic gang no less.

Things hadn’t started out that way though. Grant and his mate could still remember a time when the bandits had had a little more honor. Well. As much honor as thieves and liars could have. Once Fang took over though, things changed, and drastically. The gang members were as much prisoners as the cats in the town that they had decided to camp out in. There was always a suspicion that Fang and his followers were cannibals. Now everyone knew it was true.

Grant and Abigail tried their hardest to keep from falling into the practice, as much from their own tarnished senses of honor as from pure disgust. Food was scarce in the town though, especially with the amount of cats in it competing for even the littlest scraps. They were reduced to eating garbage. It had to change.

”Grant, I think I can get us on the watch tonight.”

”Congratulations. You managed to get us the most boring damn job of them all. You know no one ever tries to esc-

”Come on Grant, be serious. I think we can escape tonight.”

A bit of a wrench was put in their plans though when other cats did try to escape. The cats attacked them, not knowing that they to wanted to escape, and not willing to believe Grant and Abigail when they told them. The commotion brought more gang members and Grant and Abigail were forced to help kill they escapees. That was the last straw though. As soon as it was suggested they go after the two escapees that had gotten away while they were all distracted by the attackers, Grant and Abigail made a run for it. They ran all the way to the railroad tracks, their fear blocking out the sound of the train coming. Grant made it across the tracks, but Abigail tripped. As Grant turned around the help her, the train came thundering past, crushing his mate before his eyes. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breath. When the train had long gone he didn’t even notice that the other gang members had gone away, assuming them both dead and unwilling to drag their bodies all the way back to town for food.

Grant might have stayed their for days if he hadn’t been starving. The train that had killed his mate killed other animals too, which he lived off of while he followed the tracks. He figured it was the safest place. Despite killing his mate it had saved him once, and no doubt it could do it again. Traveling along the tracks gave him a respect for the railroad, to the point where he wasn’t afraid to hop into an nearly empty storage car when he came to a station. Mice made their home their home there too, though not for long. The train workers let him stay, seeing the benefit of no mice. He road the train all across the countryside, getting out when it stopped and managing to come back when it was just about to leave. If it left without him he just found a new one.

On one such occasion of missing the train, he saw a fox get run over. Or at least, he thought it did. When the train was gone it got up just fine, albeit a bit unsteady on its feet. Intrigued he stayed longer than he usually did to see if it would do it again. Sure enough, when the vibrations of a train coming could be felt, it made its way to the tracks. He watched it place its head between the tracks…and…well…just had to do it. What better way to show he didn’t fear trains than that? He’s been doing it ever since.

Soon his travels brought him to Colorado…and the clans. Wary of large groups of cats after his experience in the gang, he didn’t plan to stay long. However, a certain she-cat caught his eye enough to make him interested in the clans. Eventually he joined MeadowClan and became a warrior, not for the clan life, but to get to know the she-cat better….