[attr="class","arrgenMAINTEXT"]dovecall is a sweet soul, albeit perhaps a bit… odd. growing up under lavish attention has given her a rather skewed perspective of the world. she disagrees with the ways of the clans, thinking that so long as all cats live under the same sky, then they should live as one, without war or bloodshed, but community and strength.

although those who watched her grow up might think her spoiled, she is quite the opposite. she rather dislikes all of the attention that had been put on her - it weighed her down, made her feel pressured to perform past her limits, and left her feeling exhausted, both mentally and physically. her beauteous traits make her the subject of many amorous looks, ones that she shrinks away from, believing that those who wish to grow close to her only do so for her looks rather than her true self, and results in her being rather distrusting of many.

her manner of speech tends to be somewhat whimsical and confusing, leaning towards metaphors rather than literal terms.

[attr="class","arrgenMAINTEXT"]parents: frostgaze [f] & unnamed [m]
sibling: whiterunner
past mentor: skunkstar
apprentice: asphodelpaw [d]
mate & kits: none

you are born dovekit to a gentle but determined molly named frostgaze, and raised alongside your brother, whitekit, with the help of your grandmother, blizzardshine. you are rather feisty as a kit, a born leader, and enjoy getting your paws on whatever trouble there is to create with your brother. while frostgaze is rather relaxed in her parenting style, blizzardshine is all sharp-tongued and strict, constantly dragging you back to the nursery by the scruff and lecturing you until you feel as though your ears are about to fall off.

you are named dovepaw at six moons, and apprenticed to none other than skunkstar, the leader of the clan. her decision to mentor you comes as a shock to you, and you know that this leaves practically no room for error in your training. when you aren’t out and about under her watchful eye, you are practicing until you’re ready to collapse, scolding yourself for any slip of the paw in your hunting crouches and clumsiness in battle moves.

as you continue to grow and your body begins to fill out, you find that you are on the much more muscular side of the clan, rather than the typical lean and lanky build of windclan warriors. though you aren’t very quick, you excel in your battle training, taking down older apprentices with ease. though skunkstar often speaks to you with praise after your training sessions, you still feel an immense amount of pressure on your shoulders. her remarks to senior warriors about how far you’ve come along in your training make you nervous. it isn’t just her you have to impress anymore, but her friends, too. her advisors. your mother. your brother. the whole clan.

one notable dusk patrol brings the start of your discomfort in your own pelt. skunkstar pairs you with an older apprentice, hickorypaw, and the two of you split from the group to hunt. you get along well with your fellow apprentices, and enjoy playing with the kits in camp, and so the two of you laugh and chatter while making way to your hunting spot. all seems well under hickorypaw begins to brush closer to you, begins to nuzzle at your cheek and flick his tail against yours. you start to feel small, you start to feel like the prey, and you stumble away from him with a tight feeling in your chest.

in camp, he tells you that you’re pretty, that he liked getting to hunt with you, and would enjoy getting to take you out again once he’s named a warrior. this should delight you, and you feel butterflypaw’s envious gaze burning into your neck, but you only feel sick at the thought. he follows through on his promise when he’s named a warrior, and out of politeness you accept. he acts the same way as he’d done that one dusk patrol, bringing himself far too close to you, too flirty, too comfortable, and out of no where you sprint home, your face hot and skin prickling with discomfort. the next day he’s cold with you, dismissive, and your tail droops at the thought of having lost a friend.

at a border skirmish with shadowclan, you prove your strength and skill passed down from skunkstar onto you by saving butterflypaw from what would have been a certain death if you hadn’t noticed her struggle at the last heartbeat, throwing yourself at the shadowclan warrior without hesitation and knocking them to the ground, chasing them relentlessly until they’ve been driven back into their territory. you no sooner help butterflypaw back to camp, and you are praised for your actions - this, too, makes you feel strange inside. you don’t deserve praise for doing what was right. and yet, skunkstar names you a warrior - she names you dovecall - and all you can do is send whitepaw a longing look while the rest of the clan calls your name.

like any good warrior, you are dedicated to your duties, and yet still you find yourself the subject of more praise than other warriors. you feel yourself beginning to shrink inside your own pelt, a shadow of yourself, retreating into your own skin and hiding away from the constant gazes on yourself. you’ve been told by many apprentices that you trained with and warriors that you now share a den with how pretty you are - butterflypaw once wonders what your kits would look like, and you have a rather sickly expression at this rather than dreamy, thinking of how you’ve only just become a warrior, how you aren’t even close with any of your fellow clanmates outside of your own brother, who… these days, seems more inclined to avoid you, than anything else. when you aren’t performing your duties, you find yourself spending more time in the medicine cat den and elder’s den than anywhere else, finding comfort in listening to stories and helping sort herbs, where you are hidden away from the rest of the clan’s prying eyes.

you spend time with quillfire, a young warrior like yourself, more often than not, having believed him to be trustworthy of your thoughts. in some moons, though, there are rumors that the two of you are mates - that the two of you will soon have kits. in a private moment with him, you laugh, and tell him how ridiculous it is that the clan seems to think that cats can’t be friends. you don’t seem to notice the hurt look in his eyes.

asphodelpaw is named your apprentice sometime after whiterunner receives his own, a spunky she-cat named ebonypaw, and you delight in the idea of getting to train an apprentice alongside your brother. it feels as though your schedules never line up, though, and you begin to wonder if he plans it on purpose, hurt riding up in your chest. you confide in this in quillfire, and he brushes you off, telling you that you’re being nonsensical. you try to believe him, and swallow your hurt pride.

asphodelpaw is an excellent apprentice. a bit shy, you find, but his gentle demeanor and keen attitude tells you that he’ll be an excellent warrior, one day, and you can only hope that you’ll do skunkstar proud as a mentor. he’s a brilliant, bright young tom - an outside-the-nest thinker, you realize, as he informs you of different methods he’s thought of with regards to hunting and battle. you tell him ideas like that will make him a good leader one day, and you don’t miss the shy, yet pleased sparkle in his eyes.

two moons into his apprenticeship, you take him out hunting with quillfire, and, to your reluctance, hickorytooth. you can feel something strange in the air, can tell that something is off, but you ignore hickorytooth’s peculiar energy in favor of focusing on asphodelpaw and his posture…

…until hickorytooth begins to distract you. he approaches you with a dark look in his eyes, as though he were a predator closing in on his prey, and begins to speak to you rather distastefully. he tells you how you were a shameful mentor, a shameful warrior, and that you couldn’t keep living the rest of your life as a tease, denying any cat who looked your way your affections. you’re caught off guard - how could he still have feelings for you after all this time? how could he still be angry after all these moons? you stare at him with an incredulous look, the fur on your neck beginning to raise, and as you try to glance past him, you see that asphodelpaw is no longer in sight.

a familiar scent floods your nostrils. ”quillfire!” you call, and as he comes into view, the stench of blood hits your senses, too. horror churns your stomach as he comes through the grass, with asphodelpaw’s limp body dangling from his jaws. blood soaks the little tom, and your heart sinks in your chest. your throat tightens up, and your body feels cold.

surging past hickorytooth despite how he growls threateningly, you rush forward to meet quillfire, and as he lays asphodelpaw on the ground before you, you bury your nose in your apprentice’s fur, your entire body shaking. you look up to meet quillfire’s gaze, to ask him what happened-

his claws are soaked with blood.

”quillfire-” you gasp, but he cuts you off with a hiss.

”the whole clan will know that you did this if you don’t make up your mind sometime soon, dovecall,” he snarls, and bewilderment cuts through your grief and terror. he - quillfire was your friend, why would he act like this? why would he treat you like this?!

you remember that hickorytooth is behind you, and you realize that you’ve been cornered. trapped. you swallow roughly. you speak.

you’ve made your decision.

you tremble the entire way back to camp, and you don’t leave asphodelpaw’s side for the entirety of his vigil. his mother weeps beside you. you weep for her, too.

it’s then that whiterunner finally begins to speak to you again, it seems. you relish in his attention, his comfort, and you know deep down that at this point, he’s the only cat you can trust in this clan. if you aren’t at his side, all you ever feel are hickorytooth and quillfire’s gazes on you. the clan knows, now, that you’ve claimed quillfire as your mate - it’s only a matter of time until they begin to question when you’ll have kits.

you need to get out of here.

one night, you decide to confide in whiterunner your plans. your decision to leave windclan. to escape. and yet, to your horror, he questions you. he pleads with you not to leave. you wonder if he hasn’t noticed, after all these moons, how the rest of the clan treats you - how the rest of the clan treats him. you… lash out. you’re desperate. you want, no, need him to understand, and yet- he doesn’t, and it’s that much worse when he finally snaps, when he chases you off of windclan territory.

you’ve since spent the rest of your days wandering the outside territories as a loner, an exile. it’s difficult, living on your own, but… you’re safer here than you ever were in windclan.

and yet, every night, when you close your eyes, it’s asphodelpaw’s limp body that you see.