Post by BLIZZARDCLAW on Mar 24, 2015 21:40:39 GMT -5
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BLIZZARDclaw
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BLIZZARDclaw
long-furred light gray tom with amber eyes | ||
tom | 35 moons | brave |
thunder | warrior | paternal |
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appearance
Blizzardclaw likes to joke that he has more scars than fur on his pelt. It's not true, of course, but it gives a more lighthearted view of the multiple long-healed ones. He's been in so many battles, despite his relatively young age, that he's forgotten where most of them come from. The only one he can never forget about is the one on his shoulder, the place his own father's teeth had been set when Blizzardclaw killed him.
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His name, Blizzard, comes from his pelt. It's a light gray color with some little bits of white thrown in. He likes to believe it was from his pelt color, at least. Imagine telling cats it came from his fluffy pelt. Snowheart would take to calling him Fluffypelt, if only to get under his fur. He loves her, he really does, but sometimes he just wants to box her over the ears.
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What Blizzardclaw likes most about himself, though? Well, it would have to be his size. He's quite possibly one of the biggest cats in the Clan, resembling a small badger rather than a cat. It's good in battle (or sitting on Snowheart or Venomwind in playfights), but not much for stealth or hunting.
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His eyes are a dingy yellow, a gross color in his own opinion. They give him away, always, when he tries to lie or trick someone into something. Snowheart says they reveal more about him than he tells, but he likes to think that's just her and because she knows him so well.
personality
Positive: Loyal, Funny, Fatherly
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Perhaps it's a side effect of his past, but Blizzardclaw is twice as loyal as anyone else. He gives everything his all, whether it's hunting or fighting or caring for his Clanmates. He's never turned down helping the medicine cat gather herbs, or caring for the elders when the apprentices needed a break. Despite his loyalties, though, he'd be a hypocrite if he said that he didn't think outsiders or half-Clans had a place within the Clans.
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He tries to find the humor in anything, no matter the situation. It's Blizzardclaw's belief that, if everyone had a smile on their faces despite what's happening around them, it wouldn't be so bad. He tries to give them that smile by being funny. Half of the time, this warrior is a downright riot! The other half, he tries too hard. He cracks jokes and one-liners that aren't all that funny, or are just inappropriate. Whenever he's not feeling that hot, others around him can tell.
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Blizzardclaw will never let his kits, or any other ThunderClan kit, go through what he did. He's become something of a father figure to all of the young ones in the nursery. Or at least, he's attempting to. If he thinks any mother or father is mistreating a kit, he'll tell them off. No kit should have to feel like they're not good enough. Despite his easy-going nature, he knows when to be the good guy and when to be the bad guy. It's better to act disappointed than angry, because anger never teaches anything but anger.
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Negative: Brooding, Scary, Afraid
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There are things in Blizzardclaw's past that he often takes the time to look back on and reflect. He'd think and wonder and ask himself, "Did I do the right thing? Could it have ended any differently?" At these times, he just needs to be alone. He'll disappear without telling anyone where he's going, and just find a place to wallow in his grief and anger and angst. His mate is particularly skilled in knowing when he's feeling like this, and can keep everyone from pestering him with questions.
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While normally he's all sunshine and daisies, Blizzardclaw is one scary dude when he's angry. He's already huge to begin with, so imagine him all puffed up and snarling! He knows better than anyone that sometimes words can hurt more than claws, but occasionally he wants nothing more than to feel the rip of the offender's fur beneath his claws. Sometimes he goes through with it, sometimes he doesn't. Each time though, he feels disgusted with himself.
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Every time he feels the need to get violent, he goes back to his mother. It's a fear, as irrational as it is, that one day he'll turn out like her. Bitter and angry and ambitious to the point where he'd hurt his Clanmates to get what he wants. Moonfrost had used words as much as claws to inflict damage, both on Blizzardclaw and those around him. He doesn't want to be like that, but sometimes he thinks that's what he's becoming. It's all a load of fox-dung, but not something he can help.
history
Before Life
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Moonfrost was a light gray and tabby she-cat with amber eyes. She was ambitious and smart, with all the cunning and cruelty of a fox. She hated the other Clans with a passion, and believed that the only way to keep them away was with fear. She wanted to be deputy, and then leader. But the only way to do that was to earn the Clan's trust and respect. Unfortunately, that wasn't as easy as she'd have preferred. Her Clanmates sensed that something was off with her, and were quick to deny her any power. So she got a pawn.
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Brackenfang was a dark gray and fluffy tom with blue eyes. He was respected and powerful, with much sway over the Clan. His biggest flaw, however, was his attraction to Moonfrost. When she propositioned him, he didn't pause to think about the consequences or the catch. They became mates, and his life became perfect. Moonfrost slowly manipulated him. She used him to claim that the Clan merely misunderstood her. She used him to claim that she only had the Clan's best interests at heart.
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Still, they were wary. They trusted and respected her more than ever, but that still wasn't enough. So, loathe though she was to do it, she moved to the nursery while awaiting Brackenfang's kits.
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Kit
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Blizzardkit was a lone kit when he was born. The reason they thought there'd be more was his size. Even during his development, he'd been big. Moonfrost told the Clan she named him for his pelt, but that wasn't the entire truth. With his birth, she gained the Clan's full trust and respect. She used this to her full advantage, and tried to turn her Clan against their rivals. Few listened to her, though, and she took our her frustrations on her kit.
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She never beat him, of course. What good would he be then? She just treated him more as an apprentice than her son. When Blizzardkit was late or wasn't where he was supposed to be, he was denied food. When he talked back or was disrespectful, he was to care for the elders in place of the apprentices. Blizzardkit tried to do everything right, tried to earn his mother's genuine love. He didn't.
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Then something awful, horrible, terrible, happened. At least in Moonfrost's mind it was horrible. A ThunderClan tom, named Rattail, had fallen in love with a ShadowClan she-cat named Darkpelt. Darkpelt left ShadowClan to join ThunderClan and be with her mate. She moved directly to the nursery instead of the warriors den, already expecting kits. Moonfrost made her distaste of the little half-Clans and Darkpelt very, very, clear.
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Two moons after she joined, Darkpelt birthed two she-kits: Snowkit and Venomkit. Snowkit inherited her paternal grandmother's pure white pelt and her mother's crystal blue eyes. Venomkit took after her father's dark gray pelt, with a splash of white on her throat. The first time Snowkit opened her eyes, she walked right up to Blizzardkit and Moonfrost and meowed, "Hiya! I'm Snowkit! You're Blizzardkit, right? Wanna be friends?"
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Blizzardkit decided then and there that his mother was wrong about these particular half-Clans. He became inseperable from Snowkit and Venomkit. They were best friends, playing together and relaxing together and being complete nuisances together. Moonfrost watched her hard work of the past two moons evaporate like dew in the sun as her kit grew closer and closer to the "half-Clan pieces of fox-dung". And since Snowkit had been the catalyst, she decided that Snowkit would take the brunt of her rage.
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So began the epic enmity of queen and kit. Blizzardkit would watch helplessly as his mother and his best friend butted heads, arguing constantly and insulting each other. He had to give Snowkit credit, she was spectacular when arguing. The day he became an apprentice two moons before his friends, he'd never felt so lonely.
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Apprentice
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To his surprise, his father was his mentor. Brackenfang, while not as anti-Snowkit as his mate, was not at all happy that his son was perfectly fine knowing that his friends were not pure ThunderClan. He kept him busy and working, hoping each and every day that Blizzardpaw would go straight to bed and not see the kits. Brackenfang's hopes were all for naught; Blizzardpaw refused to spend a whole 24-hours away from the two. If he was so tired that his paws were falling off, he'd sleep in the nursery with them and Darkpelt.
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His continuing friendship with Snowkit and Venomkit caused a rift between his parents. Where Brackenfang would prefer that Blizzardpaw wasn't friends with the two, Moonfrost downright wanted them gone. Them and their parents. She said, "They were both traitors, to their Clans and the warrior code. They don't deserve to live, let alone stay in the Clan!" Brackenfang, seemingly for the first time, realized the malice hidden in Moonfrost.
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Blizzardpaw was happily oblivious to the tension of his parents. After Snowpaw and Venompaw joined him in the apprentice den, life was good. It was the height of green-leaf; the prey was running and the Clan was healthy and mostly happy. He impressed his two friends with all that he'd learned from his father, hunting silently and acting out battle skills. When he was showing them his tree-climbing skills, the illusion was shattered. He fell from the branches and broke one of his legs. Venompaw, who'd always been the fastest, had to run back to the camp and get help. By the time the medicine cat came, Snowpaw had already tried to construct a splint for his bone.
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Moonfrost took this opportunity- for that was all she saw her son's accident as- to throw some heat at Snowpaw. She screeched and yowled and howled at the apprentice, saying it was all her fault and that she'd been pressuring Blizzardpaw to jump. It wasn't true, of course, but no one except the apprentices would know and no one would expect any of them to tell the truth, for fear of getting into trouble.
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Blizzardpaw spent two moons recovering in the medicine den. The incident had left within him a fear of heights. He refused to go climbing, and was quite happy with all four of his paws safely on the ground. Snowpaw understood more than anyone, even Venompaw. For that, Blizzardpaw saw her in a new light. He saw how wonderful she really was, with her cheerful mischief and her friendly nature. He developed a crush on her, but went on as if he didn't feel anything but brotherly love for her.
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A battle with RiverClan changed them. Those fox-hearted thieves had made another bid for some of ThunderClan's territory, ambushing the patrol they were on. Venompaw was again sent for help while they fought. Blizzardpaw and Snowpaw never strayed from one another, keeping their pelts barely brushing. Then they were seperated by two RiverClan cats. Blizzardpaw watched, barely paying attention to his own opponent, has Snowpaw's enemy went all-out. The dark gray tabby clawed and bit her until the rocks beneath her ran red.
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Blizzardpaw felt his heart stop when he saw all the blood. Everyone else froze as well, and the two Clans separated. The medicine cat was called, but Blizzardpaw felt that Snowpaw didn't have enough time to wait. He found some spare cobwebs nearby and pressed them against her wounds, begging and whispering for her to hold on. He told her to keep breathing, to listen to him, to talk to him. He told her he loved her. Then the medicine cat was there, and everything after that was a blur.
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He walked, as if through a haze, back to camp. Venompaw was on one side of him and his father was on the other. They kept him steady and moving together. For once, Brackenfang didn't see Venompaw as half-Clan and Venompaw didn't see him as her best friend's mentor. He saw her as a valuable Clanmate, and as his son's friend. She saw him as her best friend's father, a cat who cared for his kit just like everyone else.[break]
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It was announced, later that night, that Snowpaw would live. She'd have to stay in the medicine den until she recovered all the way, but she'd live. Blizzardpaw was so relieved that he cried. The Clan leader told them that, though Snowpaw would be in recovery, the Clan owed thanks to her for fighting so bravely. And then Blizzardpaw was called forward to receive his warrior name.
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He turned it down. He wanted to wait for Snowpaw and Venompaw. He wanted them to get their warrior names at the same time. Moonfrost was livid. Right there, in the middle of the clearing, she flew at her son and tried to claw at him. She tried to bite him. She tried to kill him, her son, blood of her blood. Brackenfang pulled her off before any major damage could happen, and the Clan leader told Moonfrost to leave and never return.
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She said she'd leave, but that she would return. She'd come back, and she'd get revenge. Oh, not on the Clan, they'd never done anything to earn her vengeance. No, she would avenge her loss on Snowpaw. In Moonfrost's eyes, everything she'd lost had been Snowpaw's fault. Her son, Snowpaw's fault. Her mate, Snowpaw's fault. Her Clan, Snowpaw's fault. And so, Moonfrost was banished from ThunderClan.
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The pure white apprentice was unconscious for three days before waking up. The first thing she told Blizzardpaw was that she loved him too. They planned, then. They planned for the future, for their future, as mates and parents. Neither noticed Venompaw withdraw slightly, with the look of sadness in her eyes. Neither knew that Venompaw had developed a crush on Blizzardpaw as well. Neither knew that Venompaw had decided to let him go, for his own happiness.
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Warrior
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A few moons later, they received their warrior names at the same time. Blizzardshard was named because, though his life had fallen to pieces around him, he'd rebuilt his life the way he wanted it to. Venompaw was named Venomwind for her swiftness, both on her paws and in her thoughts. Snowpaw received the name Snowheart, because her heart shined with a light that none could never put out.
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Their first challenge as warriors came on their first day out in the forest. Blizzardclaw and Snowheart had been on a walk, just enjoying each other's company, when they were attacked by Moonfrost. Blizzardclaw was so surprised and shocked that he allowed Moonfrost to attack Snowheart. The two she-cats exchanged blows and dialogue until Blizzardclaw pulled himself together. Then he charged at Moonfrost and told her to leave. She asked, almost mockingly, why he wanted to hurt her. She was his mother. Blizzardclaw replied stonily that he had no mother. Moonfrost left.
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They lived as they would for another two seasons before Moonfrost made another attempt on Snowheart's life. She led a band of rogues and loners, all who had a bone to pick with the Clans, to attack the camp. This time, the entire Clan fought to protect the half-Clan that they respected like a pure-blooded Clan cat. When Moonfrost was once again driven out, she took a souvenier with her: Brackenfang. During the battle, she'd persuaded him to leave with her. While he wasn't entirely happy to leave the Clan, he didn't put up much of a fight.
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Everyone hoped that Moonfrost had gotten the picture. They hoped that she'd leave Snowheart alone now, that she'd keep to the life of a rogue and never bother them again. How naive they were. Moonfrost made a third strike, now with enough cats to keep everyone busy while she sought out the half-Clan that had destroyed her life. Blizzardclaw fought his way through the rogues and loners and came face to face with his father. For a few heart-beats that felt like an eternity, they stared at each other. In Brackenfang's eyes, Blizzardclaw saw seasons' worth of regrets and pain.
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Then the moment was over, and Brackenfang attacked. They fought, father and son, until Brackenfang finally lay dead at Blizzardclaw's paws. When the rogues and loners were driven out, there was one more dead body in the clearing: Moonfrost. While Blizzardclaw had been fighting his father, Snowheart had fought his mother. And clearly, she won.
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As strange as it was to mourn his father and not his mother, that's what Blizzardclaw had done. He mourned for the lost moons of old, when he and Brackenfang had had a relationship that others could look at and admire. He mourned the loss of his parents, mourned the loss of his innocence. Throughout this entire period, both Snowheart and Venomwind had been right beside him. He turned to them for comfort and support, and the sisters readily gave it to him. He'd never been more grateful for them.
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Compared to all of that, life got pretty tame. The three of them all got their first apprentices together, a trio of siblings named Shrewpaw, Daisypaw, and Cloudpaw. The leader had made good choices for all three of them: Shrewpaw, hot-headed and stubborn, was paired with Venomwind, who could keep her cool in any situation. Daisypaw, quiet and reserved, got the out-going and friendly Snowheart. Cloudpaw, skittish and shy, was given to the patient and encouraging Blizzardclaw.
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Venomwind and Blizzardclaw had to share Daisypaw's apprenticehood near the end, though. Snowheart was moved to the nursery while expecting Blizzardclaw's kits. And everyone could tell she was milking it for all it was worth. Blizzardclaw brought her fresh-kill whenever she was hungry and he was available. If he wasn't, Venomwind would fetch it. Venomwind did all of her errands, such as cleaning the den, fetching herbs from the medicine cat, and pretty much everything else she could think of.
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Snowheart was halfway through her pregnancy when their apprentices gained their warrior names. Shrewclaw wasn't as reckless or battle hungry, but he still stalked the borders with his claws unsheathed. Daisyface was more open with her thoughts and feelings, laughing and socializing with their Clanmates. Cloudwhisker didn't stutter or shy away from speaking in public anymore, though she was still quiet when meeting new cats.
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Life got so monotonous that it was almost boring. Whenever he had to leave the camp for patrols, he simply went through the motions. Oh he still caught prey and was diligent at the borders, but his mind was always back at camp where his mate was waiting for him. With Snowheart out of commission for the next two seasons, it was just him and Venomwind. Not that he minded. Snowheart was his mate, yes, but Venomwind had her own place in his heart.
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Blizzardclaw had been out on the afternoon patrol when Snowheart's pains came. It was Venomwind who came to get him, and the two friends waited in worried silence until the medicine cat came out to tell them it was safe to go in, and at that time everyone else had gone to bed.
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Snowheart was sleepily watching three little kits suckling, two she-kits and a tom. The she-kits looked like she and Venomwind did at their birth, a pure white and a dark gray. Snowheart named the white one Lightkit and Venomwind got the honor of naming her copy, choosing Darkkit for her pelt and in memory of their mother. Blizzardclaw named his only son, whose pelt was somewhere between gray and black and looked like smoke. Predictably, he became Smokekit.
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The three adults cooed and awed over the kits for a while until Snowheart started yawning. They bid her good night and after that, it seemed like the kits grew overnight. Lightkit had inherited her father's compassion and her mother's lightheartedness, quickly making both friends and enemies within the Clan. Darkkit was that one kit that comes up every few litters, the rough one that had to be scolded and punished for using claws and bullying the weaker kits.
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Thank StarClan for Smokekit. His sisters from day one argued and fought over the littlest things, forcing him to be the mediator between them. He was able to remain calm and talk both of them down from the heights of their kittish anger. Every time it happened, Blizzardclaw just grew prouder of him.
appearance
Blizzardclaw likes to joke that he has more scars than fur on his pelt. It's not true, of course, but it gives a more lighthearted view of the multiple long-healed ones. He's been in so many battles, despite his relatively young age, that he's forgotten where most of them come from. The only one he can never forget about is the one on his shoulder, the place his own father's teeth had been set when Blizzardclaw killed him.
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His name, Blizzard, comes from his pelt. It's a light gray color with some little bits of white thrown in. He likes to believe it was from his pelt color, at least. Imagine telling cats it came from his fluffy pelt. Snowheart would take to calling him Fluffypelt, if only to get under his fur. He loves her, he really does, but sometimes he just wants to box her over the ears.
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What Blizzardclaw likes most about himself, though? Well, it would have to be his size. He's quite possibly one of the biggest cats in the Clan, resembling a small badger rather than a cat. It's good in battle (or sitting on Snowheart or Venomwind in playfights), but not much for stealth or hunting.
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His eyes are a dingy yellow, a gross color in his own opinion. They give him away, always, when he tries to lie or trick someone into something. Snowheart says they reveal more about him than he tells, but he likes to think that's just her and because she knows him so well.
personality
Positive: Loyal, Funny, Fatherly
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Perhaps it's a side effect of his past, but Blizzardclaw is twice as loyal as anyone else. He gives everything his all, whether it's hunting or fighting or caring for his Clanmates. He's never turned down helping the medicine cat gather herbs, or caring for the elders when the apprentices needed a break. Despite his loyalties, though, he'd be a hypocrite if he said that he didn't think outsiders or half-Clans had a place within the Clans.
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He tries to find the humor in anything, no matter the situation. It's Blizzardclaw's belief that, if everyone had a smile on their faces despite what's happening around them, it wouldn't be so bad. He tries to give them that smile by being funny. Half of the time, this warrior is a downright riot! The other half, he tries too hard. He cracks jokes and one-liners that aren't all that funny, or are just inappropriate. Whenever he's not feeling that hot, others around him can tell.
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Blizzardclaw will never let his kits, or any other ThunderClan kit, go through what he did. He's become something of a father figure to all of the young ones in the nursery. Or at least, he's attempting to. If he thinks any mother or father is mistreating a kit, he'll tell them off. No kit should have to feel like they're not good enough. Despite his easy-going nature, he knows when to be the good guy and when to be the bad guy. It's better to act disappointed than angry, because anger never teaches anything but anger.
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Negative: Brooding, Scary, Afraid
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There are things in Blizzardclaw's past that he often takes the time to look back on and reflect. He'd think and wonder and ask himself, "Did I do the right thing? Could it have ended any differently?" At these times, he just needs to be alone. He'll disappear without telling anyone where he's going, and just find a place to wallow in his grief and anger and angst. His mate is particularly skilled in knowing when he's feeling like this, and can keep everyone from pestering him with questions.
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While normally he's all sunshine and daisies, Blizzardclaw is one scary dude when he's angry. He's already huge to begin with, so imagine him all puffed up and snarling! He knows better than anyone that sometimes words can hurt more than claws, but occasionally he wants nothing more than to feel the rip of the offender's fur beneath his claws. Sometimes he goes through with it, sometimes he doesn't. Each time though, he feels disgusted with himself.
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Every time he feels the need to get violent, he goes back to his mother. It's a fear, as irrational as it is, that one day he'll turn out like her. Bitter and angry and ambitious to the point where he'd hurt his Clanmates to get what he wants. Moonfrost had used words as much as claws to inflict damage, both on Blizzardclaw and those around him. He doesn't want to be like that, but sometimes he thinks that's what he's becoming. It's all a load of fox-dung, but not something he can help.
history
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Moonfrost was a light gray and tabby she-cat with amber eyes. She was ambitious and smart, with all the cunning and cruelty of a fox. She hated the other Clans with a passion, and believed that the only way to keep them away was with fear. She wanted to be deputy, and then leader. But the only way to do that was to earn the Clan's trust and respect. Unfortunately, that wasn't as easy as she'd have preferred. Her Clanmates sensed that something was off with her, and were quick to deny her any power. So she got a pawn.
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Brackenfang was a dark gray and fluffy tom with blue eyes. He was respected and powerful, with much sway over the Clan. His biggest flaw, however, was his attraction to Moonfrost. When she propositioned him, he didn't pause to think about the consequences or the catch. They became mates, and his life became perfect. Moonfrost slowly manipulated him. She used him to claim that the Clan merely misunderstood her. She used him to claim that she only had the Clan's best interests at heart.
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Still, they were wary. They trusted and respected her more than ever, but that still wasn't enough. So, loathe though she was to do it, she moved to the nursery while awaiting Brackenfang's kits.
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Blizzardkit was a lone kit when he was born. The reason they thought there'd be more was his size. Even during his development, he'd been big. Moonfrost told the Clan she named him for his pelt, but that wasn't the entire truth. With his birth, she gained the Clan's full trust and respect. She used this to her full advantage, and tried to turn her Clan against their rivals. Few listened to her, though, and she took our her frustrations on her kit.
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She never beat him, of course. What good would he be then? She just treated him more as an apprentice than her son. When Blizzardkit was late or wasn't where he was supposed to be, he was denied food. When he talked back or was disrespectful, he was to care for the elders in place of the apprentices. Blizzardkit tried to do everything right, tried to earn his mother's genuine love. He didn't.
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Then something awful, horrible, terrible, happened. At least in Moonfrost's mind it was horrible. A ThunderClan tom, named Rattail, had fallen in love with a ShadowClan she-cat named Darkpelt. Darkpelt left ShadowClan to join ThunderClan and be with her mate. She moved directly to the nursery instead of the warriors den, already expecting kits. Moonfrost made her distaste of the little half-Clans and Darkpelt very, very, clear.
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Two moons after she joined, Darkpelt birthed two she-kits: Snowkit and Venomkit. Snowkit inherited her paternal grandmother's pure white pelt and her mother's crystal blue eyes. Venomkit took after her father's dark gray pelt, with a splash of white on her throat. The first time Snowkit opened her eyes, she walked right up to Blizzardkit and Moonfrost and meowed, "Hiya! I'm Snowkit! You're Blizzardkit, right? Wanna be friends?"
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Blizzardkit decided then and there that his mother was wrong about these particular half-Clans. He became inseperable from Snowkit and Venomkit. They were best friends, playing together and relaxing together and being complete nuisances together. Moonfrost watched her hard work of the past two moons evaporate like dew in the sun as her kit grew closer and closer to the "half-Clan pieces of fox-dung". And since Snowkit had been the catalyst, she decided that Snowkit would take the brunt of her rage.
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So began the epic enmity of queen and kit. Blizzardkit would watch helplessly as his mother and his best friend butted heads, arguing constantly and insulting each other. He had to give Snowkit credit, she was spectacular when arguing. The day he became an apprentice two moons before his friends, he'd never felt so lonely.
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To his surprise, his father was his mentor. Brackenfang, while not as anti-Snowkit as his mate, was not at all happy that his son was perfectly fine knowing that his friends were not pure ThunderClan. He kept him busy and working, hoping each and every day that Blizzardpaw would go straight to bed and not see the kits. Brackenfang's hopes were all for naught; Blizzardpaw refused to spend a whole 24-hours away from the two. If he was so tired that his paws were falling off, he'd sleep in the nursery with them and Darkpelt.
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His continuing friendship with Snowkit and Venomkit caused a rift between his parents. Where Brackenfang would prefer that Blizzardpaw wasn't friends with the two, Moonfrost downright wanted them gone. Them and their parents. She said, "They were both traitors, to their Clans and the warrior code. They don't deserve to live, let alone stay in the Clan!" Brackenfang, seemingly for the first time, realized the malice hidden in Moonfrost.
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Blizzardpaw was happily oblivious to the tension of his parents. After Snowpaw and Venompaw joined him in the apprentice den, life was good. It was the height of green-leaf; the prey was running and the Clan was healthy and mostly happy. He impressed his two friends with all that he'd learned from his father, hunting silently and acting out battle skills. When he was showing them his tree-climbing skills, the illusion was shattered. He fell from the branches and broke one of his legs. Venompaw, who'd always been the fastest, had to run back to the camp and get help. By the time the medicine cat came, Snowpaw had already tried to construct a splint for his bone.
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Moonfrost took this opportunity- for that was all she saw her son's accident as- to throw some heat at Snowpaw. She screeched and yowled and howled at the apprentice, saying it was all her fault and that she'd been pressuring Blizzardpaw to jump. It wasn't true, of course, but no one except the apprentices would know and no one would expect any of them to tell the truth, for fear of getting into trouble.
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Blizzardpaw spent two moons recovering in the medicine den. The incident had left within him a fear of heights. He refused to go climbing, and was quite happy with all four of his paws safely on the ground. Snowpaw understood more than anyone, even Venompaw. For that, Blizzardpaw saw her in a new light. He saw how wonderful she really was, with her cheerful mischief and her friendly nature. He developed a crush on her, but went on as if he didn't feel anything but brotherly love for her.
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A battle with RiverClan changed them. Those fox-hearted thieves had made another bid for some of ThunderClan's territory, ambushing the patrol they were on. Venompaw was again sent for help while they fought. Blizzardpaw and Snowpaw never strayed from one another, keeping their pelts barely brushing. Then they were seperated by two RiverClan cats. Blizzardpaw watched, barely paying attention to his own opponent, has Snowpaw's enemy went all-out. The dark gray tabby clawed and bit her until the rocks beneath her ran red.
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Blizzardpaw felt his heart stop when he saw all the blood. Everyone else froze as well, and the two Clans separated. The medicine cat was called, but Blizzardpaw felt that Snowpaw didn't have enough time to wait. He found some spare cobwebs nearby and pressed them against her wounds, begging and whispering for her to hold on. He told her to keep breathing, to listen to him, to talk to him. He told her he loved her. Then the medicine cat was there, and everything after that was a blur.
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He walked, as if through a haze, back to camp. Venompaw was on one side of him and his father was on the other. They kept him steady and moving together. For once, Brackenfang didn't see Venompaw as half-Clan and Venompaw didn't see him as her best friend's mentor. He saw her as a valuable Clanmate, and as his son's friend. She saw him as her best friend's father, a cat who cared for his kit just like everyone else.[break]
[break]
It was announced, later that night, that Snowpaw would live. She'd have to stay in the medicine den until she recovered all the way, but she'd live. Blizzardpaw was so relieved that he cried. The Clan leader told them that, though Snowpaw would be in recovery, the Clan owed thanks to her for fighting so bravely. And then Blizzardpaw was called forward to receive his warrior name.
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He turned it down. He wanted to wait for Snowpaw and Venompaw. He wanted them to get their warrior names at the same time. Moonfrost was livid. Right there, in the middle of the clearing, she flew at her son and tried to claw at him. She tried to bite him. She tried to kill him, her son, blood of her blood. Brackenfang pulled her off before any major damage could happen, and the Clan leader told Moonfrost to leave and never return.
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She said she'd leave, but that she would return. She'd come back, and she'd get revenge. Oh, not on the Clan, they'd never done anything to earn her vengeance. No, she would avenge her loss on Snowpaw. In Moonfrost's eyes, everything she'd lost had been Snowpaw's fault. Her son, Snowpaw's fault. Her mate, Snowpaw's fault. Her Clan, Snowpaw's fault. And so, Moonfrost was banished from ThunderClan.
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The pure white apprentice was unconscious for three days before waking up. The first thing she told Blizzardpaw was that she loved him too. They planned, then. They planned for the future, for their future, as mates and parents. Neither noticed Venompaw withdraw slightly, with the look of sadness in her eyes. Neither knew that Venompaw had developed a crush on Blizzardpaw as well. Neither knew that Venompaw had decided to let him go, for his own happiness.
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A few moons later, they received their warrior names at the same time. Blizzardshard was named because, though his life had fallen to pieces around him, he'd rebuilt his life the way he wanted it to. Venompaw was named Venomwind for her swiftness, both on her paws and in her thoughts. Snowpaw received the name Snowheart, because her heart shined with a light that none could never put out.
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Their first challenge as warriors came on their first day out in the forest. Blizzardclaw and Snowheart had been on a walk, just enjoying each other's company, when they were attacked by Moonfrost. Blizzardclaw was so surprised and shocked that he allowed Moonfrost to attack Snowheart. The two she-cats exchanged blows and dialogue until Blizzardclaw pulled himself together. Then he charged at Moonfrost and told her to leave. She asked, almost mockingly, why he wanted to hurt her. She was his mother. Blizzardclaw replied stonily that he had no mother. Moonfrost left.
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They lived as they would for another two seasons before Moonfrost made another attempt on Snowheart's life. She led a band of rogues and loners, all who had a bone to pick with the Clans, to attack the camp. This time, the entire Clan fought to protect the half-Clan that they respected like a pure-blooded Clan cat. When Moonfrost was once again driven out, she took a souvenier with her: Brackenfang. During the battle, she'd persuaded him to leave with her. While he wasn't entirely happy to leave the Clan, he didn't put up much of a fight.
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Everyone hoped that Moonfrost had gotten the picture. They hoped that she'd leave Snowheart alone now, that she'd keep to the life of a rogue and never bother them again. How naive they were. Moonfrost made a third strike, now with enough cats to keep everyone busy while she sought out the half-Clan that had destroyed her life. Blizzardclaw fought his way through the rogues and loners and came face to face with his father. For a few heart-beats that felt like an eternity, they stared at each other. In Brackenfang's eyes, Blizzardclaw saw seasons' worth of regrets and pain.
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Then the moment was over, and Brackenfang attacked. They fought, father and son, until Brackenfang finally lay dead at Blizzardclaw's paws. When the rogues and loners were driven out, there was one more dead body in the clearing: Moonfrost. While Blizzardclaw had been fighting his father, Snowheart had fought his mother. And clearly, she won.
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As strange as it was to mourn his father and not his mother, that's what Blizzardclaw had done. He mourned for the lost moons of old, when he and Brackenfang had had a relationship that others could look at and admire. He mourned the loss of his parents, mourned the loss of his innocence. Throughout this entire period, both Snowheart and Venomwind had been right beside him. He turned to them for comfort and support, and the sisters readily gave it to him. He'd never been more grateful for them.
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Compared to all of that, life got pretty tame. The three of them all got their first apprentices together, a trio of siblings named Shrewpaw, Daisypaw, and Cloudpaw. The leader had made good choices for all three of them: Shrewpaw, hot-headed and stubborn, was paired with Venomwind, who could keep her cool in any situation. Daisypaw, quiet and reserved, got the out-going and friendly Snowheart. Cloudpaw, skittish and shy, was given to the patient and encouraging Blizzardclaw.
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Venomwind and Blizzardclaw had to share Daisypaw's apprenticehood near the end, though. Snowheart was moved to the nursery while expecting Blizzardclaw's kits. And everyone could tell she was milking it for all it was worth. Blizzardclaw brought her fresh-kill whenever she was hungry and he was available. If he wasn't, Venomwind would fetch it. Venomwind did all of her errands, such as cleaning the den, fetching herbs from the medicine cat, and pretty much everything else she could think of.
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Snowheart was halfway through her pregnancy when their apprentices gained their warrior names. Shrewclaw wasn't as reckless or battle hungry, but he still stalked the borders with his claws unsheathed. Daisyface was more open with her thoughts and feelings, laughing and socializing with their Clanmates. Cloudwhisker didn't stutter or shy away from speaking in public anymore, though she was still quiet when meeting new cats.
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Life got so monotonous that it was almost boring. Whenever he had to leave the camp for patrols, he simply went through the motions. Oh he still caught prey and was diligent at the borders, but his mind was always back at camp where his mate was waiting for him. With Snowheart out of commission for the next two seasons, it was just him and Venomwind. Not that he minded. Snowheart was his mate, yes, but Venomwind had her own place in his heart.
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Blizzardclaw had been out on the afternoon patrol when Snowheart's pains came. It was Venomwind who came to get him, and the two friends waited in worried silence until the medicine cat came out to tell them it was safe to go in, and at that time everyone else had gone to bed.
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Snowheart was sleepily watching three little kits suckling, two she-kits and a tom. The she-kits looked like she and Venomwind did at their birth, a pure white and a dark gray. Snowheart named the white one Lightkit and Venomwind got the honor of naming her copy, choosing Darkkit for her pelt and in memory of their mother. Blizzardclaw named his only son, whose pelt was somewhere between gray and black and looked like smoke. Predictably, he became Smokekit.
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The three adults cooed and awed over the kits for a while until Snowheart started yawning. They bid her good night and after that, it seemed like the kits grew overnight. Lightkit had inherited her father's compassion and her mother's lightheartedness, quickly making both friends and enemies within the Clan. Darkkit was that one kit that comes up every few litters, the rough one that had to be scolded and punished for using claws and bullying the weaker kits.
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Thank StarClan for Smokekit. His sisters from day one argued and fought over the littlest things, forcing him to be the mediator between them. He was able to remain calm and talk both of them down from the heights of their kittish anger. Every time it happened, Blizzardclaw just grew prouder of him.
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