A born and bred WinterClan she-cat, Crowcacophony has not had the easiest life. She was born into a pure blooded family, or at least that is what she had been told. Yet when her mother, Icewhisper, took off in the middle of the night with her and her siblings, she knew something was not right. It turned out the tom, Cardinalstrength, whom she thought was her father was unaware of his mate’s infidelity and her true father, Beaversplash, was a WaterClan warrior. Now her mother was taking her to join up with him. When they met up with her father he had different plans. The tom had come to tell her mother that he had no desire to continue to be with her or even take responsibility for his kits. When the argument turned heated, her mother was slain and the tom panicked when the kits started to cry. Her siblings were quickly dispatched and an attempt was also made on her life. Yet she had managed to survive the attempt on her life, although a passing crow mistook her for dead and tried to eat her. It was those screams of pain that caught the attention of a passing warrior who managed to rescue her. The scent left by her attempted killer led the clan to him and with that the rest of her blood family was gone. The WinterClan tom who still believed Crowcacophony was his daughter invested everything into her and managed to get her back into prime shape. The once injured kit took a new look on life and once she became an apprentice, told the tom the truth. While Cardinalstrength was heartbroken by the truth, he never let go of the fact that Crowcacophony was his daughter. Glad to still have a family, she went on with her life to become a warrior. Though not longer after her promotion, tragedy struck yet again when her adoptive father was killed in an avalanche. Yet she kept on going and is still going. Her long and sleek pelt is mostly white with large black patches along her tail, back, and head.Those black patches are accented with a lighter shade of ginger, making her a calico. Her eyes are an icy mint green with the slightest hint of blue along the edges. Her form is lean and on the tall side, owing to her father’s blood. Yet she thankfully inherited her mother’s double coated fur and snowshoe like paws. While she has moved past the tragedies that plagued her early moons, she still has questions for her mother. She wants to know what made her betray her clan for a tom who didn’t even want her kits. But she is thankful for Cardinalstrength who always thought of her as his daughter. To her clanmates she is of pure blood and lost most of her family in a tragic accident, yet she carries the truth that she is of half clan and the victim of familicide. This she all hides underneath her rather friendly exterior and protective instincts. She cares deeply for her clan and tries her hardest to do what is right for the clan, though at times her own self interest gets in the way. Like any WinterClan cat she can come off as sharp tongued and slightly hostile. Crowcacophony is rather distrustful of outsiders and carries a dislike of other clans.

A stunning kurilian bobtail, this twisted she-cat started out her life as a kittypet. She was born inside and never set foot outside until she had to escape the burning remains of her home. At that point she was just shy of six moons old. With half her fur burnt off and her lungs choked with smoke, she struggled to get clear of the fire that had spread to the nearby trees. The dying screams of her family echoing in her ears as she stumbled over rough territory. Her flight stopped as her body gave up along the river running through WinterClan. She was then washed down and nearly drowned, struggling to stay afloat in the icy water. Her savior was Barrenfrost who pulled her half burnt, half drowned body out of the water. To her, the lynx spotted tom was the only thing that kept her from death. Her whole world had been torn away, only to be replaced by one single tom. He brought her back to the clan and had her healed. She had suffered brain damage from both smoke inhalation and from drowning due to the lack of oxygen. Luckily her thick coat grew back in, rich swirls of mahogany, copper, sandstone, and chocolate create a classic tabby pattern. Her muzzle is white with a little trickle leading down to her chest. To pair with that she has eyes the color of a Granny Smith apple and a sweet little bobbed tail. Petrichia was allowed to keep her name, a rarity for Barrenfrost’s playthings, though he does shorten it to Pet more often than not. Seeing as her whole life was upturned, she settled her focus on Barrenfrost. He is her sun, moon, and stars. The world revolves around him. She would and has killed for him. Anything he asks she does. Yet most of all she desires to keep him for herself. Petrichia would keep him hidden away from everyone if it meant keeping him for herself.

Skinny, bordering on the line of unhealthy, Wisp stands over most cats with his extremely long legs. His tail is just like his leg, overly long. He has a medium length pelt of creamy fur. His paws are all dipped in rich brown fur with lighter browns and tans slashed across his legs. A faint tan patch rests on his chest and matches the faint tabby markings on his forehead. His black lined eyes are a silvery blue ringed with any icier shade. Wisp was born to passing loners who ditched their only son along a creek to be washed away. While he did slip into the water, he was saved by by a mysterious figure. Taken in by BrookClan after he was found left in the center of the gathering area. He had few memories and none of them involved how he ended up there. Nevertheless he quickly took to BrookClan’s ways and began to train with them as soon as he was old enough. Wisp excelled at battle and advanced in hunting, youth he absolutely refused to even dip his paws in the water to swim. Despite not having a clue of how to swim he eventually became a voiny, even if it was later than the average cat. Though he did not stay long, for an overwhelming sense of wanderlust took over. So in the dead of night he disappeared, even though he really did not have to leave in such a manner, it just felt more dramatic to him. On his own he regularly got himself into trouble, finding out that he really couldn’t walk anywhere he pleased. Yethe always survived and made his way around with a group of loners for a brief period of time. Though he fell deathly ill and was forced to stay behind. Once again the same mysterious figure delivered lifesaving herbs to the entrance of his in the middle of the night. After that he felt drawn back to BrookClan and the religion he was raised under. Stepping back into his old home he took up the life of a hermit, almost that is. He secluded himself to a private section of the territory and took up all sorts of different hobbies, mainly including bone carving and saving the furs of prey items. Yet he does his best to provide for others, including forming his own sort of religious orphanage for parentless kits. Still he always manages to find himself in some sort of trouble. His good nature and desire to better himself however usually get him out of most trouble.

A narrow and leggy she-cat with a past that cannot be recalled by any of her league mates. It is like she simply appeared one day in the nursery. Though that is far from the truth, of it could only have been that easy. Rather she was brought into this world and spent her first months in the same way she will go out of it, bathed in blood. She was born into a small group of rogues, her parents, Indigo and Tip, were both nothing more than lackeys. From the moment she opened her eyes and could walk she was put through brutal training. Her parents had offered her to the leader, Marc, that way they got to keep the rest of their kits. Mink was given the name Viper, replacing the one her parents gave her. Her days were filled with blood, both hers and those that she was supposed to train on. But there is only so much a little kit can do, and she was constantly a disappointment to Marc. Though her brutal treatment would not last long as her boss had angered the wrong cat. One night the small camp was demolished by a larger group of rogues. With her small size, she managed to jam herself into a crack the rock face where she had been sleeping. She watched her parents and siblings slaughtered, her few friends massacred, but what truly stuck with her was the torture they felt to Marc. She felt almost giddy watching him getting injured. Once the invading group left the camp in ruins she finally made her way out. The scarred kitten was stopped by her former tormentor who pleaded with her for help. He was the first life she took at only three moons old. It was by no means hard as the tom was barely alive, but it was still her first taste blood. Now she craves the metallic fluid. Her sleek frame is coated is a creamy pelt, dusted with silver along her shoulders, back, and hind end. Her legs are an ombré of cream to silver to a brown so dark it looks black. The same dark brown covers her whole tail, ears, and around her eyes down to her muzzle. Her black nose and silver whiskers blend into the surrounding shades of fur while her eyes stand out. They are almond shaped and just ever so slightly tilted up on the outside. The color is an icy blue with a splattering of sapphire in ring-like formation around her iris. With a slim physique and a nasty history, it is not very surprising that she is not always the most pleasant cat. She has little patience for imbeciles and can lose her temper at times. Her tone is often sharp, insults regularly flowing from her mouth. Yet she still knows where the line is and is cautious not to cross it when it comes to her superiors.

A broad tom heavily resembling a British Shorthair with a denser chocolate coat. White winds around his legs, across his chest and belly to join up into one streak that cuts across his right eye. His eyes are a rich gold with reddish hints along the edges. Faint tabby markings sit along his forehead, giving him a mildly annoyed look ost of the time. Though if that is true or not will depend on who you ask. He was born as Lightningkit in the WinterClan of the past, he was raised to be important. His family though never rose to power, was still rather important and most critical was of pure blood. As far back as anyone can recall his family was in WinterClan, mating with only pure WinterClan blood. To say they were elitist would be putting it mildly. When Mesmerizingsins came into the picture he was a blessing, for he was the first male in his generation and would keep the family line going. His parents had struggled to have even him and his two sisters. They were doted upon, never really having to work for anything it seemed. As such Lightningkit grew troublesome, a typical rich brat. As a kitten, his behavior was often brushed off. Yet when it continued as an apprentice, it became an issue. At times he would disappear for days on end, telling only his closest friend Dyinglight where he was going. It infuriated his family, who more or less had his whole life planned out for him. Instead, he had been taking his life in his own paws. It just so happened he fell in love with a loner, one who had been injured and was currently residing close to his home. Only a few days after receiving his warrior name, Lightningdevise, he left the clan. The loner, Dia, had fallen pregnant with his kits. Knowing his family would never approve her ran off with not a single goodbye. He thrived without the pressures of his family and quickly became a better person, taking on the name Lazurus. He welcomed his five kits into the world with the idea that they would choose their own fate. Together with Dia, they made a home of their own as wandering with kits was no longer an option. Settling down domestic bliss overtook life and it was rather uneventful for the most part. Mesmerizingsins was truly happy, no longer having to look for it. Though what goes up must come down and his life truly crashed. Dia was out hunting when she was targeted by a fox, though she managed to escape her wounds were rather severe. She hung on long enough to say her goodbyes and convince her mate to take their kits to WinterClan, which was not easy. Begrudgingly Mesmerizingsins agreed, though when he found that his family had died off in his absence he began to feel better about rejoining. Though in an attempt to distance himself from both his family reputation and his own past mistakes, he changed his name to Mesmerizingsins. He did not want to fall back into his old pattern and instead wanted to move forward, his name is to remind him to do so. Always forward and never back.

An unfortunately fortunate tom. His life threw him a curve ball even before he was born. His mother, Brokenstride was attacked by his father, Wormwood. His father had been a serial killer in his clan in addition to being the Soothsayer. Brokenstride had found out and confronted him, causing an attempt to end her life. Along with his five siblings, they too suffered consequences of the attack. He only had three legs, his siblings suffer from blindness, deafness, muteness, schizophrenia, and bipolar disorder. So in the grand scheme he got off pretty lucky having all of his senses and an unaffected mind. He grew up getting both pity and anger; anger because of his father and pity due to his deformity. It irritates him to no end as he never thought himself any different and really hasn’t had too much of a struggle in life. He has always been a tripod cat and always will. Due to being named Fallingkit and later becoming Fallingtides after the obligatory Fallingpaw, he is a tad bit bitter. He never asked for this and the fact that his name mocks him only enrages him further. He doesn’t feel like he belongs in his birth place, SunClan. His only black pelt stands out amongst everything and causes him to overheat often in the blazing sun. His blue eyes are not exactly pale blue and not quite a deep blue, rather they are like the sky on a pleasant day. Though his moods are closer to the stormy skies and raging winds.