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Rank: Queen
Gender: Female
Played By: Lunlun
Custom Title: Mother to Duckpaw and Ratpaw
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Joined: 21-October 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Jun 14 2018, 11:40 AM
Local Time: Jun 24 2018, 02:32 PM
74 posts (0.3 per day)
( 0.19% of total forum posts )
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My Content
May 24 2018, 09:37 PM
Fawn sat outside the entrance to camp. Her proud, masked face staring into the trees and the undergrowth beyond. ThunderClan territory was slowly becoming home. It was where she'd raised her children. Where she'd fled when BloodClan offered no peace for the family she'd started with Arcticstorm.

Her fur prickled with unease at the thought. Arcticstorm. How long had it been since she last saw her mate? Anxiety was locked deep within her chest, worries that she wanted to share but felt voiceless to do so. Silverstar had lost her mate. How could it be fair of Fawn to lay the worries for her daughter on her plate beside that sort of grief? She loved her kits, and loved Bait. Her kits didn't deserve to hear their mother's woes for the mother they felt abandoned them. Fawn knew that Arcticstorm hadn't; she wouldn't. Not on purpose. Bait was still sick. Recovering.

How many excuses could one cat make for another? Or for themselves?

She sighed, leaning back on her haunches as she tucked her hind paws beneath her tail. The sandy soil beneath her paws was home. It would stay home for the rest of her life, as long as the kits she'd raised still loved and desired her close. They weren't just a promise to Arcticstorm anymore; they were her children.
Mar 20 2018, 03:47 PM
Fawn stood outside Silverstar's den with exhaustion dragging on every muscle. Realization of what ThunderClan had lost had finally set in, and the ragdoll queen understood that somehow Silverstar would need to be told. Her children were in no state to pass the news themselves and that left Fawn in the position to do it for them. She was mate to Arcticstorm, the estranged daughter to the silver bengal. Silverstar and Coalstep both had fought for the kittens she shared with her mate, protecting Duckkit from a dog, offering warmth and affection to the kittens despite Arcticstorm's hesitance- they'd even offered that friendship to Fawn.

And until very recently, she'd reluctantly refused. Whether or not Arcticstorm was fully comfortable, Fawn could no longer keep the gap between herself and the mother of her mate. Fawn had no place among Arcticstorm's former family in BloodClan. She had been brought her to ThunderClan to begin life anew with her mate and kittens, lured by promises of safety and the comfort of cats around her who would shelter them from harm. She wanted that. And now, following the death of ThunderClan's deputy and the mate of her mother-in-law, Fawn knew that Silverstar would need it just as much.

"Silverstar?" Fawn called into the den. Her accent was stronger with the weariness that still dragged her down. Her head hurt lesser than it had before, but it felt like every noise was amplified as she waited for her leader's reply. "I am sorry to bring sorrowful news, but I feel it may be better to hear it now than later."
Feb 19 2018, 11:31 PM
Things were looking better for Fawn than they had in moons. Perhaps since the days before her mother weaned her. She'd been taken under the care of Bait before his departure from the farm, only to later leave the farm herself in search of safer hunting. She'd gone to the city to make a life for herself, and instead found her first love and friend in Arcticstorm. Now ThunderClan was where she laid her head to rest, and with her came her mate and three rambunctious kits. Her proud, lovely kits. And even Bait was here, despite his poor state of health. She would visit often, telling him about her litter even when he was too tired to speak back.

Things were looking much, much better. She just wished that she could shake the feeling of being watched. She'd figured out so far that her Clanmates were truthfully not out to hurt her, nor (thankfully) her little family. She hadn't figured out what to do with them.

They didn't squabble over kills. They didn't threaten each other or pick fights over the safest nests. They bore their scars to each other willingly, trusting each other to guard their throats and flanks.

She was glad her kits didn't share the same troubles she and their mother did. Even Arcticstorm had said it sometimes felt like she had ants in her pelt. And yes, that thought brought disturbing sensations to mind.

Fawn took a small bird from the edge of the kill pile, watching carefully for any who might challenge her for her meal. So far so good. She'd been hunting the same as their warriors did; that was hopefully enough to earn her keep for now. She'd have to improve if she wanted to keep her place until her kits were grown. She settled onto her belly nearby as she began to pluck the feathers from her snack, though she looked uneasy about eating in the open. She needed the space to set aside the best feathers- her kits needed warmer bedding.
Nov 5 2017, 08:45 PM
Fawn squeezed under a gap in the fence, her belly fur brushing the dirt as she came out the other side. It was a Twoleg garden. It was getting later in the evening, now, and the sun had begun to fall in the darkening sky. She was a little tired and getting hungry. Living alone was beginning to be harder than she'd first imagined it would be. She'd watched older siblings and several cousins go it alone for a time, and most of them chose not to come back. She'd always imagined it meant the city held better opportunities than the farm. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe they hadn't gone back for another reason.

The ragdoll crawled underneath a nearby rosebush, frustrated and at a loss. How could she hunt mice with so many Twolegs and monsters and dogs of all things traipsing around? Everything smelled like Twoleg and all the weird stinging smells that came with it.

Maybe it was just her weariness clouding her mind; she'd hunt better in the morning when she'd gotten some sleep. Fawn curled her tail over her nose and paws, using the rosebush to hide her from Twolegs. It wouldn't, of course, hide her from the watching eyes of nearby cats if they happened to look a little more closely.

Nov 5 2017, 08:22 PM
Fawn knew better than to trespass on territories this far from the city's edge, but things had changed recently. She'd met a young tabby, one who smelled of dozens of other cats and hinted at the ongoing rumour of unified groups among the forest. Loners knew better than to cross the pride of city cats, but these strangers in the forest might afford a better opportunity for Fawn.

At the very least, their land might offer a greater bounty than the recent scarcity of food she'd encountered on her usual city streets. Even the alleys, so often dominated by older queens and toms, were beginning to empty as Twolegs made a concerted effort to keep their scraps to themselves. If Fawn wanted to eat, she had to get creative.

The smell of mud and sodden moss ahead was definitely... creative.

She hesitated, the scents of other cats beginning to strengthen here. She knew she was crossing the threshold of a much more dangerous territory than that of any alleyway. How hungry was she? She could hear frogs croaking and chirping in the muddied territory ahead and her stomach twisted. Hunt and fill her belly, or turn back to save her skin? The ragdoll bared her teeth and to let the scents of the border cross over her; she'd better check for nearby cats first.
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