lichenstrike

[attr="class","arrgenMAINTEXT"]Lichenstrike is a cat who is used to being judged prematurely. He comes across as idle or apathetic, unwilling to engage those other than his closest friends and family in a meaningful way. He'd earned himself a reputation as a kit for being idle and dependent and as an apprentice for being a daily troublemaker, running off when he wanted and unapologetic when serving his punishments- and not without reason.

Remnants of these traits still linger, of course. A lot of his troubled nature stems from his self-loathing, instilled by his feelings towards his father and worsened by WindClan's recent plight under Emberstar. But Lichenstrike hides it well under the guise of being carefree and distracting himself by indulging in fun rather than work, with the dark-minded thought that if they could be in danger at any moment, they might as well enjoy the time they have. He has a witty, playful charm that he cultivated both to earn friends and mask the darker, self-destructive parts of himself that he’s not ready to confront yet – and he holds all but his dearest friends at arms-length.

For those willing to look past these faults, they will find a cat who is full of heart. Lichenstrike is very emotional, even if he tries not to show it around others. He gets deeply attached to those who make an effort to befriend him and will always rise to be there for them, even when he wants nothing more than to run away from himself. He tries to use his sympathy and charisma to encourage others and be a source of positivity for them. At the same time, though he thinks lowly of himself, those who harm his loved ones will find themselves the angriest version of Lichenstrike, with a barbed tongue and malicious wit, one who will burn bridges without apology. Those he mistrusts or dislikes he will openly share cross words with, and it is an uphill battle to earn oneself back into his good graces as he has a tendency to hold grudges.

He isn't mousebrained, either. He has a tendency to be self-reflective, realize the consequences of his actions and adjust accordingly. Despite his proclivity for idleness he is ruthlessly efficient when given a task, whether it is a duty or a punishment. He believes respect is a two-way street, and those who show little respect for him will be shown the same in return. Every once in a while something thoughtful and wise will slip from his mouth, often to his own surprise.

But ultimately at the crossroads of his sympathetic, charismatic, and reflective natures lies a cat who has the potential to be a great warrior and a good leader amongst his peers. He just needs to take the opportunity to pull himself out of a spiral, grow, and demonstrate that potential.

[attr="class","arrgenMAINTEXT"]He was born to sweet Wrenwhisper and a father whose name he couldn't utter without spitting in disgust. His family large even before his arrival as the eighth litter, and there were suddenly a lot of new faces and names for a small kit to remember.  Some faces were clearer than others- the older siblings that came to visit- while others stayed distant, pointed out to him from afar. Wrenwhisper's face was clearest, of course, as were his littermates, and he has fond memories of huddling with them in a warm kit-pile and burrowing into Wrenwhisper's soft fur.


As a kit certain aspects of his personality emerged quicker than others- primarily the less desirable ones. Lichenkit quickly proved to be both cold and dependent, keeping those he didn't know well enough at arms length while latching on to those he did. He hardly could be convinced to leave Wrenwhisper's or his littermate's sides, and on the rare occasions he did, there was little he wanted to do except nap in the sun. Scolding rarely fazed him; his response was often a simple ear flick as he slinked back to the nursery. His father seemed to take issue with all of these traits, earning more than his fair share of ire. He was more than just a thorn in Lichenkit's side, but he couldn't quite place the full extent of why the older tom got under his skin.

The only exception to the rule was another tom named Lionkit, just a moon ahead of him, but he had a shining personality that intrigued Lichenkit. Lionkit's willingness to bridge his normally cold demeanor endeared him to Lichenkit, and his continued interest even when he became an apprentice guaranteed him a close place in the younger tom's heart.

By the time of his apprentice ceremony, he had already earned a sort of reputation for being lazy and uninvolved. Truthfully Lichenpaw did not exactly relish becoming an apprentice. It separated him from his closest family with training sessions and he had little attachment with his mentor. But there were silver linings, here and there- he was away from his father and he had more freedoms than he did as a kit, which he made full use of.

Eventually he did start to break out of his shell, little by little, and by doing so he learned more about himself. He learned to be friendly, charming even, and earned a pawful of friends, some closer than others. He learned that he could care for others, care so much that it hurt. He learned that words and thoughts have power and his self-reflective nature lent itself to a natural charisma.

It was also around this time he learned why his father angered him so. It wasn't just the prejudgement. It was the way Wrenwhisper, his mother who he loved dearly, always seemed stuck in the nursery- as she was now with her ninth litter. He didn't know the specifics; he went out of his way to avoid the tom- but something had clicked. All of his siblings. How she was always around the camp. He would have hated being confined like that, and he projected that irritation- and he hated that he became a result of it. Parted of him wondered if Wrenwhisper ever regretted having him, but he couldn't ever bring himself to ask, fearful of the answer.

The realization was a hard hit. He spiraled. He cared for his friends, but little for his training and even less for himself. His mentor hadn't earned his respect and he was only going through the motions out of a sense of obligation to Wrenwhisper. Lichenpaw regularly tried to distract himself, convincing his friends to go on adventures outside of camp when they weren't allowed to, or when he was alone, running the territory alone. He got in trouble more times than he could count- not that he minded. In trouble seemed to be his default and he never regretted what he was being punished for. As for his punishments, he became incredibly efficient, changing the nests in the nursery and removing ticks from the elder's fur with as little wasted effort as possible. His thoroughness became a small point of pride, something that he could hold onto.

He never really shook his penchant for trouble, but eventually his mentor started to recognize something in him and they were able to reconcile in a way and make strides towards working together. The little motivation was all Lichenpaw needed to take it and run with it. He quickly excelled once he bothered to apply himself, shining especially in battle practice where his efficient movements gave him both stamina and precision with his strikes. His most fond memory was as an elder apprentice during a group training, where he successfully led a group of younger apprentices in a playful mock battle against another group (much to the surprise of his mentor).

He skated into his twelfth moon, narrowly escaping a delay in his warrior naming ceremony due to his many infractions. He earned the name Lichenstrike, a nod to his fighting ability, and sat his vigil peacefully, the first full night in moons where he didn't put a single paw out of line.

His next youngest siblings moved out of the nursery and the newest litter was born. Not wanting to be one of those faceless family members, Lichenstrike made a point to visit his younger kin and spend some time with them, doubling as an excuse to visit Wrenwhisper and spend some quality time with her as well.

And then a darkness settled over WindClan, with Emberstar's rise to power. Cats go missing. Cats die. They learn to walk on eggshells and bite their tongues. Lichenstrike hates it. He's caught between running out of camp as much as he can and staying in camp as much as he can, for Wrenwhisper's and his family's sakes. He chooses his family as often as possible, but he has his moments, when he sprints out to the far reaches of the territory and lets out all of the emotions he tried so hard to hold in. He copes with the stress and another downward spiral by doing whatever he wants. If he was going to die tomorrow, he was going to make it worth living now. He ventures out when he wants, has a few flings, plays with his youngest siblings, takes apprentices out on excursions so they don't get into trouble. Warrior duties he performs only out of a sense of obligation once again to his family and his few close friends.

The moons are painful, culminating in RiverClan's attack on WindClan, led by Vipereye, their own deputy. Lichenstrike takes up defense of the nursery, attacking Emberstar's followers and RiverClan invaders alike, until the dust settles and Emberstar is dead- along with many others, his father among them.

He felt... little, surprisingly, when he realized. Emberstar, who only had one life. His father, gone. Moons of pain- a lifetime for some- that could have been over in an instant from the beginning. He doesn't sit vigil for his father. There are plenty others willing to do so in his stead. No, when the time came he slipped out of camp, alone, far enough away where no one would discover his angry tears as he scrutinized the sky. He watched the stars with an intensity he never had before, to make sure no new ones appeared that night.

Viperstar rising to power leaves a bad taste in his mouth. To say Lichenstar doesn't trust the leader- or many of the high ranks- is a huge understatement. He is still at a low point, withdrawn from all but his family and his closest friends. He gets in less trouble nowadays, if only because he's a warrior now, allowed to do all the things he wasn't as an apprentice.