Raggedhaze [Heatherclan]

[Dusk]

raggedhaze
tom, forty-two moons, warrior, heatherclan

appearance
;; an unkept black and white patched tom with yellow eyes

;;first impressions of the heatherclan warrior aren't necessarily impressive. raggedhaze is a rather unassuming warrior when it comes to physical presence; he's scrawny - even shrunken, lacking muscular bulk, and is rather on the smallish side of the spectrum, though long-legged. he manages to balance a line between delicate and wiry, a feral leanness that tells of age and hardship in the warrior's past. his eyes, too, are bland. orbs a pale, lackluster, unremarkable shade of yellow that stare out from a motley visage of light and shadow. perhaps his most noteworthy feature would be the fur for which he was named. his fur seems to have a mind of its own, growing at uneven lengths across his skinny frame, thin where it should be thick and luxurious, rough and outgrown in the oddest of places. it almost gives the impression of the warrior being tri-coloured, although in fact the lighter patches are simply spots of black fur outgrowing the rest.

personality
gruff
distant
independent
unmotivated
uninviting
tactless
tolerant
level-headed
secretly affectionate
fearful of loss
kindly in an odd way

more often than not old raggedhaze is renowned as something of a black sheep. he keeps his distance from others, tending to treat his fellows in a rather brusque manner, brushing off attempts at friendliness. a grizzled old coot to say the least. the tom's not outright rude, though, he doesn't go out of his way to be harsh, and he certainly doesn't find joy in offending other cats the way some do. to call the warrior spiteful would be a horrid misnomer. more along the lines of grim and world weary, something clear if you get a good look at his eyes. not quite listless, there certainly is something hollow about the warrior; as though there's something important missing from his life and he trudges on day in and day out without it. more or less, don't expect any bright words of optimism and sheer joy to fly from his maw. he'll be blunt. he'll be straightforward. in his words, he's "realistic".

raggedhaze prefers his own company to that of others, and he makes that blatantly clear in his tendency of keeping to himself in camp and favoring solo patrols during the day. not to mention he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. the tom is old enough to have seen much of the warrior world, to have grown wise from life's teachings. while wise words aren't about to spout from him any time soon, there's no doubt he can be confident with his skill and experience. if only he could put that experience to good use beyond going through the daily motions of life. it's not a lack of loyalty to heatherclan, only he can't ever seem bothered to do more than the minimum expected of a warrior. he's got no drive, almost no spirit either.

his brooding and his apparent lack of care for other's feelings more often than not pushes possible companions away. which, really, is what the cat wants. beneath the tired, worn out shell there's a tom who cares, the warrior that silently appreciates the attempts at socialization. the tom who fondly watches kits at play. that part of raggedhaze, though, is hidden away. that little section of his personality is not to be seen. he was "soft" once in life, and the world proved unkind to a warmer sort of raggedhaze. why risk loss? rather keep others out before they can nestle in your heart and shatter it when misfortune strikes. likely better not to risk forming strong bonds. he might try to deny it, but he can't help but be the slightest bit affectionate of some companions. he'd never admit it, though.

history
'Why don't you spend time with your sister?'
'I find more fun on my own, that's all.'

Life started out bright and welcoming for Raggedkit. Born the second of his litter, his 'older' sister was Jasperkit; they were kits of Jupitermoon and Sandstreak. Their mother, Sandstreak, was a fond enough queen, but motherhood simply hadn't been designed for her. She loved Jupitermoon; Jupitermoon had wanted kits, and so kits she'd given him, but the queen hardly found much happiness in the nursery. For her, life meant being on the move, always hunting and patrolling, devoting her life to her clan. Sandstreak had deputy potential, and - being an ambitious cat - deputy-ship was something she wished for. Kits took that chance from her, though, a fact which resulted in a bit of a grudge lingering in the back of her mind. Not that she hated her kits, no, that maternal love still resided in Sandstreak, only she couldn't help but glance at her kits every now and then and consider the opportunity she'd lost because of her choice. For the most part, she blamed herself. Even so, as soon as she could the she-cat was quick to go back to her warrior duties, largely leaving the father to manage his "precious furballs".

It was a bit odd, rarely having their mother with them in the nursery - on occasion she would sleep in the warrior's den instead - but Raggedkit gave the fact little thought. From even a young age he was something of a loner, though nothing compared to how he is now, and found contentedness in being on his own. While Jasperkit was being a rambunctious ball of energy that was near impossible to keep in camp, the younger litter-mate sat back and watched. The only problems began to arise when their father and mother began fighting, Jupitermoon confronting Sandstreak over her failure to be much of a caretaker to their kits, and Sandstreak lashing out that they were what he wanted not she. It left things tense in the nursery, although as young kits the siblings hardly understood the reason for so much fighting. It was loud and it was frightening and - if all families were this way - Raggedkit wasn't quite sure why any warrior would want one.

'Who're you, invader?'
'M'name's Raggedpaw...'

Apprenticeship came as a welcome relief to Raggedpaw. It was a chance to finally escape the brooding atmosphere in the nursery, a chance to come into his own without the constant watch of his parents. Given over to the tutelage of a bear of a warrior named Rookstorm, who looked more dangerous than he truly was. The young cat threw himself wholeheartedly into training, distancing himself from family and not easily finding friends amongst his fellow apprentices. A part of him feared that all relationships were like the one that had been most prevalent throughout his kithood; that didn't sound particularly appealing. Raggedpaw would rather keep to himself than put up with bickering and constantly being angry with each other.

As moons of training passed, though, he learned that others really weren't that bad. Rookstorm became something of a second father figure in his life, without any of the stiffness that could be felt coming off Jupitermoon at times. The apprentice learned to make friends and became more sociable, far more sociable than the current Raggedhaze, although he still wasn't exactly a social butterfly. The tom needed his space, but certainly wasn't cold or uninviting to others. The relationship between himself and Jasperpaw grew stronger, more akin to the relationship that should exist between two siblings. The tom excelled in his training, although he was smaller than his sister and not as strong - a fact which earned him much grief amongst the other male apprentices. It didn't matter.

All in all, things seemed to be going rather well for Raggedpaw. He had a group of select companions and was on his way to becoming a good Heatherclan warrior. Things changed, though, about a week before his warrior ceremony, when the tom unwittingly made a decision that set off a chaotic chain of events.

It was on a surprisingly warm winter day that things started to change for Raggedpaw. The odd weather had merited a chance for a walk, time to be alone and think. Travelling along the edge of Heatherclan territory, the cat found he felt particularly adventurous; he slipped past the border, and began travelling deep into unclaimed prairies, unsure where precisely he was headed. The soon-to-be warrior simply felt the insatiable wanderlust that occasionally strikes adolescents. The sun crept steadily along the sky and Raggedpaw simply kept plodding onward without a care in the world, until something came barreling from seemingly out of nowhere and straight into him. How he'd missed the cat in the first place, Raggedpaw wasn't sure, for the feline was almost all white minus a mask a gray on his head, a dark tail, and a few stray patches near his rump. Large but lean, close to his own age, the cat was clearly a loner.

The loner didn't seem particularly hostile after that first warning strike, in fact, he was very quick to introduce himself. Urchin, he called himself. A tom who'd made the portion of territory just north of Heatherclan his home. Urchin lived by himself, apparently, scraping by in shockingly good fashion all things about the hardships of a solitary life considered. There was something about Urchin that clicked with Raggedpaw. The apprentice couldn't say what about the clanless cat was so magnetic, only that he was.

'Where've you been lately?'
'Just... places is all. Y'member I like t'be my m'self.'

Raggedpaw thought his chance meeting with Urchin would be the sole time he came across the tom, the apprentice was wrong. The cat became a warrior not long after their meeting. From Raggedpaw to Raggedhaze and Jasperpaw to Jasperlight, brother and sister sat proudly through their vigil side by side. Through the night of silence, the new warrior's mind frequently drifted to the gray-patched tom he'd met on the snow-crusted grassland. What was it about the stranger that drew such intense attention? It was just another cat, after all, and the warrior code claimed he should have no ties outside of the clans. Urchin was just another cat, not a big deal. He'd be forgotten with the challenges of warrior duties.

Five days later Raggedhaze was sneaking out to track Urchin down again. The two became fast friends, meeting almost weekly. If Raggedhaze had the opportunity to sneak out and see the tom, he did. The two could pass hours together, trading hunting and fighting techniques or just chattering the time away whilst traversing the golden expanse that both cats called home, it hardly mattered. They were friends, Urchin was a kind of companion that Raggedhaze had never had before in his life. He was a fool to have believe paradise would last.

Moons passed,and Raggedhaze's strange absences began to be noticed by others in Heatherclan. He'd been discreet about leaving camp, but more than once the warrior had been needed for duty only to be found unavailable. Yes, he would come back with prey when he did turn up, but not enough to merit an entire day of skipped patrols. The deputy at the time eventually decided to assign a cat to keep a closer eye on Raggedhaze, suspicious of the strange activity. Long story short, Urchin - who had learned to meet Raggedhaze at the Heatherclan border - was eventually found. Found, and, victim of a rogue-hating warrior, killed. Raggedhaze only found his dear friend's body after the fight, mangled and broken, he knew not what even had killed the loner. All he knew was that he'd had the cat nearest and dearest to his heart ripped away from him, and that shattered the black-and-white tom.

Time might heal wounds, but scars remain. Although countless moons have passed since Urchin was killed, Raggedhaze still finds himself fearful of growing close to others. He can't take the chance of losing someone else.

sample
nope.

other
oh look, another history spirals out of my control