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Description
belongs to KellzFire and Zaabu

Name: | Scatterkit | Hoppaw | Hopflight |

Age: 1 1/2 season cycles

Gender: Male

Breed: Moggy

Rank: Young Warrior

Apprentice: Tidepaw bayflightstudios.deviantart.co…

Clan: TidalClan. Since it is a well known rumor that his father was from RaggedClan, he is careful to make it clear that his only allegiance is to the clan of his birth, even if he can be a bit friendly with she-cats of the others.

Appearance:

| Overall | Hopflight is a stunningly handsome cat, though his pelt looks very odd and disorganized. As he is a mix of so many different breeds, the dominant genes of the Tabbies, Maine Coons, Abyssinians, Showshoes, Ocelot-cats, and generations of mixed breed "moggies" like himself all show through on his pelt, making it look very cluttered and disorganized. But there is a certain artistry to the way the different colors swirl and speckle themselves across his pelt, and indeed he is very aware that he is, against all odds, a pretty dang good-looking tom.

| Body | He has a strong, sturdy body with long legs and is slightly larger than average. He is short-haired for the most part, other than his cheeks and the fringe between his ears. However, his rump is incredibly fluffy, and the long hair continues to grow along his short tail, one very long strand of hair hanging down from its base.

| Eyes | This tom's eyes are dark and bright at the same time, swirling with blues and greens like the depths of a body of water. The scars on the left side of his face do cross over his left eye, and though there is no mark on the eye itself his vision on that side is a bit worse than it should be had he not been injured.

| Pelt | His base color is the black of midnight, showing through steadily between the seemingly disorganized chaos of his other colors. One of those colors is a light, stone-gray, which starts on his tail and spreads over his rump, wrapping around the left side of his body, along with a few splotches on his left ear and left hind paw. This gray seems to be a gene from some long-dead tabby ancestor of his, since the entirety of those markings are covered with stripes of a slightly darker hue. The only exception to this is the gray fringe between his ears, with the two longer strands falling over his eyes. This fringe is swept back and ends at the base of his skull, and holds no stripes whatsoever. The second most apparent color of his pelt is brown which covers him similarly to the gray. This brown starts on his left shoulder and spine, extending down just a bit before wrapping around his torso and ending at the knee of his right leg. He has a few splotches of the same shade of brown on his left hind heel, his right forepaw up to the elbow, and both of his ears, abd the tip of his tail. Mirrored, brown markings sit under both of his eyes, the only symmetrical markings that he carries. His final fur color is a pale gold which shows up only sparingly. This color is only on the toes of his right forepaw, a few spots further up the same leg, the tip of his right ear, and a spiraling snake-like marking that wraps around his left foreleg. The gold also appears as a scattering of spots on his lower back.

| Scars and Accessories | Hopflight had a run-in with a bit of trouble when he was an apprentice, which has left him with scars along the left side of his face, one extending over that eye. His left ear isn't torn, but the cartilage is broken and so it flops on the side of his face. After a few moons of getting used to his new face after it had happened, Hopflight decided that the scars make him look rather dashing, and indeed they only add to his good-looks. The way he wears them, he definitely makes them more of an asset than a marring of his facial features. Because he decided he might as well ruin both of his ears, he's impaled the pale golden tip of his right ear with the long, curving claw--and in fact, the claw of the very cat who had scarred the other side of his face.

| Stance | Hopflight holds himself with a swagger that he's carefully perfected during his many years of practice. He always looks like he's ready to throw in a flirt or a sarcastic comment, and in fact, most of the time he is.

Personality: | Reckless | Flirtatious | Scathing | Aloof | Loyal | Lonely |

|Reckless| Hopflight doesn't seem to fear anything. Though he's not one of those brave, noble characters, nothing seems to intimidate him. This gives him a certain reckless attitude that is mot as much brave as it is stupid. If something interests him, he'll poke his nose into it without much fear. Since he has an incredibly high endurance, he can take a lot of hits and bite back pain, continuing with his cool, aloof attitude. This recklessness is self-absorbed, as he mostly does it to show off in front of she-cats or peers, but it does lead him to be able to react coolly and quickly to anything that happens. When he is frightened, he usually just laughs and tells himself to get a grip. He still has the self-preservation of any sane cat, but he doesn't usually hold back when it comes to taking risks.

|Flirtatious| Again, Hopflight is a good looking tom and he knows it. It doesn't matter if the she-cat is old or young, of his own clan or someone he meets at a gathering, he never turns off the charm. He likes the attention that he gets from such exploits, and he finds it funny when she-cats fall for him. However, most of it is talk--he's never actually fallen in love. He flatters primarily for attention and for personal gain, but that doesn't mean that he always has malicious intent. Usually he only flirts with those he genuinely likes. He enjoys company, and these skills at charm make him pretty likable even when it comes to all of his other faults.

|Scathing| When Hopflight is not flirting or flattering, he's making a sarcastic comment. He can be a bit bipolar when it comes to this, as it all depends on his mood. But his comments are never entirely bitter--they seem carefully thought out, usually just to get a rise out of another cat than anything else. He is especially sarcastic when it comes to fighting, in which he angers his opponent into attacking. Between his sarcasm and his endless flattery, it seems that he never takes anything seriously.

|Aloof| Though he will flirt, flatter, and jibe different cats at different times, it seems that he also holds everyone at arms length. Though it seems that he will invest himself fully in a cat during his interactions, he never ends up talking about his own true feelings. He's broken hearts before, and he will probably continue to do so as he flirts but does not actually initiate anything worthwhile. All of life seems a game to him, and this can lead many to see him as quite aloof. It seems that he really cares about others very little, and is incredibly self-absorbed. He can also be incredibly pessimistic, telling others the reality of a situation and the many ways that it will probably go wrong. This only strengthens this impression.

|Loyal| For all of his faults, there can be no questions about Hopflight's loyalty. To his Clan, he is entirely devoted, and keeps himself in check constantly--though he will flirt with she-cats from other clans, he would never actually start something with one of them. One of the reasons is that he knows that he is half-clan, and he knows too that the uncertain rumors that circle him are the truth. He enjoys this mystery, and no one is sure if he even knows the full story. But he is careful not to let the rumors go too far. He dislikes the other clans in general. but this loyalty also extends to friends. Though he is difficult to get along with and keep a lasting friendship with, he would risk his life (with a jibe or two at whoever he was saving) to save any who are close to him.

|Lonely| This combination of his personality makes it seem that he doesn't really care about anyone or anything. He is careful not to get too close to anyone. But this is more of a defense mechanism; a type of self-preservation. His life growing up had turned out to be a lie, his father had tried to kill him, his mother and sister left the Clan. His apparent self-absorption and craving of attention is actually because hemisses the company of others, of cats he can trust. The rumors only seem to get in the way of any lasting friendship. In short, he has some trust issues, and though he knows he brings it on himself, he is lonely.

History: | An Illegitimate Birth | Scars of the Family | A Self-Worthy Warrior |

|An Illegitimate Birth| As a kit, Hopflight didn't know of his actual heritage. His mother, Dunesparrow, was a well-respected warrior. Cold, and calculating, it was hard for most to imagine this proud battle-hardy feline as a mother, but when she moved into the nursery, no one suspected that the father was from another clan. She simply chose not to reveal who the father was--not a surprise, seeing as she guarded her secrets closely. Since her loyalty was unquestionable and she had never showed warmth to cats of another clan, it seemed that there was no risk that the kits where not fully TidalClan.
But as fate would have it, they were not. Dunesparrow had met Hopflight's father, Jaggedclaws, in a border skirmish between the two patrols. Though they left each other scars, as neither showed much mercy in battle, they were drawn to one another all the same. They met in secret for two moons before breaking off what had formed between them, and returning to their separate cold lives.
Kits were an unwelcome discovery, but Dunesparrow took her pregnancy as a punishment from StarClan for the laws that she had broken in meeting Jaggedclaws. Though she no longer held any love for the RaggedClan warrior, she had the kits and raised them dutifully. The first was a stillborn, though in the new mother's eyes it was simply another wish of StarClan for her emotional and moral punishment. The second was a dappled black and white female, who she dubbed Strikekit. And the last, a male, was Hopflight, though at birth he was called Scatterkit because of his scatter-marked pelt. Dunesparrow was more of an early mentor than a true mother, and though she loved them in her own way, Scatterkit found it hard to get a smile out of her. Both kits had TidalClan's wily instincts and RaggedClan's strength, so she taught them to be strong and tactful, playing to their assets that she knew they would receive with the mixed clan blood but never telling them where their lineage lay.
Scatterkit was much more adventurous than his little timid sister, though it was more for his own benefit than to actually prove himself as a warrior. It was clear from early on that he wasn't going to be anything like his uptight, cold-hearted mother, and it was just as clear that Dunesparrow disapproved.
As Scatterkit began to get older, he began showing off in front of the other kits. Fearless to the point of it being a bit stupid, he would always climb to the highest places he could find, like the sides of TidalClan's cave, and hop down quickly from ledge to ledge. Perhaps he craved attention a bit, since his sister was too timid to want to play and his mother, already seeing that they would not be good, rule-abiding, loyal warriors, showed him less and less affection as he grew. She shook her head at his antics, but knew that StarClan would not have given her kits that she could be proud of because of who their father was. Almost in respect to StarClan's wishes, as she realized Scatterkit would show off and hop down the walls of the cave no matter what she did, she ensured that by the time her son was an apprentice, his name was Hoppaw.

|Scars of the Family| Hoppaw was a surprisingly good student when it came to training. If there was one thing that his mother had been able to drill into him, it was respect for older, more experienced warriors, and the warning to listen to those who were more powerful than he was so he could learn from them. Though it took some time for him to really start listening to his mentor, Birdcatcher, by the time he was a moon into his training he was hanging onto her every word. He was pretty well-liked, and though he still showed off in front of other apprentices, even this began to tone down, and it seemed that he was going to mature after all.
It was three moons into his training that he was brought to his first gathering. He was too awestruck to notice the RaggedClan tom that stared at him the entire night, or that the same tom slipped into the bushes with his mother while the leaders were talking. With all eyes glued to the action in the gathering, no one noticed Jaggedclaws and Dunesparrow discussing what she had never told him--that she had borne his kits and raised them to TidalClan ways.
Infuriated and ashamed that he has half-blood kits, it was at that gathering when he dropped the hint to another TidalClan cat that Strikepaw and Hoppaw's father was a RaggedClan cat, though he told no one that the kits were actually his. The rumors festered for a time, lying dormant with the few that he dropped subtle hints to during the gathering.
When Jaggedclaws came to his senses, he realized that he had made a mistake in spreading the rumor. It had been an act of bitterness in his anger at the cat who had once been his forbidden mate, but it was then that he realized the true danger in such information coming into light. He had meant to wound Dunesparrow's pride, but the TidalClan warrior could easily come forward and tell TidalClan who the real father was. True, it would hurt her more than it would hurt him, but his position as a loyal RaggedClan warrior would be shaken--ruined, even, because of a mistake that he had made moons ago. Jaggedclaws believed that the only way he could cover this mistake was to end the lives of his half-blood kits which, as he believed, never should have come into being.
Hoppaw was on an analyzed solo hunting assessment when he first met his father. It was raining steadily, an added challenge to his hunt and the reason that Birdwatcher had decided to pick that particular day for an assessment, but also the perfect time for Jaggedclaws to catch Hoppaw in the open with no defense. In a stroke of bad luck, Hoppaw's hunting route brought him close to RaggedClan's territory where the cat was lying in wait. Jaggedclaws did not speak to Hoppaw, and did not give him warning when he attacked. Hoppaw reacted just in time to dodge the death blow that Jaggedclaws aimed for his throat, and instead the RaggedClan tom's long, twisted claws raked across the side of his face, scarring it and breaking the support in his left ear. But the warrior was single-minded in his belief that he was doing the right thing, and easily overpowered the half-trained apprentice. The rain had broken into a storm at this point; between the sheet of raindrops and rolling thunder, it seemed that Hoppaw's mentor had lost track of him and was too far away to help. However, Dunesparrow had been watching the RaggedClan border carefully since the gathering, certain that her former mate would soon try to destroy what the two of them had created. She was right, in that sense, and she knocked the tom off of her son before Jaggedclaws could succeed in landing a death blow.
Hoppaw was terrified as he watched his mother fight the strange, murderous tom from an enemy clan. He crouched as the rain continued to pour, too stunned and frightened to help as they tore at one another. Jaggedclaws was far stronger, but Dunesparrow knew the terrain and what the weather would do to it, and used this knowledge to her advantage. She forced Jaggedclaws to the edge of a drop into a gully. The mud there was too slick, the ground shifting from the rain, and the RaggedClan warrior fell to his death.
It was then that Dunesparrow turned to Hopflight, and though the apprentice was bleeding badly, frightened, and in terrible pain, she did not tend to his wounds. Instead, she revealed to him that the cat who had attacked him, the tom who had just died in a fall over the cliff, was his true father and he was half-clan. She had heard the rumors that were floating through TidalClan at that point, and her pride would not allow her to remain in the Clan any longer. To have given birth to half-bloods was, in her opinion, the greatest of shames, and she had no wish to either confirm or deny the rumors when she was confronted by them. She ordered Hoppaw to join her, as she was leaving the clans forever. Confused and frightened and not at all sure he knew who his mother was anymore, Hoppaw flat-out refused. He fled, bleeding and unable to open his wounded eye, and waited out the storm as he trembled and hid in the territory.
When the rain cleared, his mentor found him at last and brought him back to camp. When he arrived, he found that Dunesparrow had taken Strikepaw and left TidalClan for good. No one knew why, though most suspected that it was because the rumors were true. Hoppaw spent several days in the medicine cat's den, recovering from the wounds to his face, speaking to few and telling no one what had happened. When he was cleared, he left the camp and hopped down the cliff face to the body of his father, lying in the crevice. He stayed there for a good long while, even though the stench of decay and loose flesh had already taken over the bottom of the gully. When he finally left, he pulled out one of his father's extremely long, twisted claws from his paw and brought it with him as he climbed back up the gulch. When Birdcatcher found him, he was sitting beside a river, having washed the claw and sharpened the other end by dragging it against a rock. Hoppaw asked Birdcatcher to pierce the claw through his other ear, and now he wears it at all times as a reminder.

|A Self-Worthy Warrior| Hoppaw was never quite the same after that. He wasn't quite as close with his mentor, prefering to keep her at tails length and associating with her mostly to finish his training. When he earned his warrior name, he became aloof, sarcastic, and flirtatious. He grew to be incredibly handsome, and he is not as haunted and scarred as one might think from his family issues. He thinks that his scars and floppy ear make him dashing (which is entirely true) and he is considered quite the catch when it comes to suitable tomcats. He thinks that his backstory is romantic and dramatic, and though he's never told the whole story to a single cat, he's dropped bits and pieces to those she-cats that he has wooed. He thinks that he's the most awesome cat in existence, and he's proud of his accomplishments as a warrior. The cats of the Clan don't know what is true and what is only rumor about his history. No one knows what really went down that night where he was scarred, and indeed many believe that his own mother attacked him before she left the clan. But Hopflight enjoys those rumors--he likes that no one really knows who he is, and he in fact feeds the rumors himself by dropping hints that lead to conclusions that may or may not be entirely true. He is by no means well-adjusted, and he remains a sort of bad-boy, but he is on the path to becoming either a bold, respected warrior... or else a cat that none would be wise to turn their backs on.

Fighting Style: Hopflight is strong, tactful, and has incredible endurance and agility. When he wins a fight, it isn't by attacking, but instead by jibing them with scathing remarks until they are angry enough to attack him first. He defends and reacts, and he does not play far. He usually uses some pretty low blows, tripping his opponent and using his surroundings to his advantage. He works hard to humiliate whoever he is fighting before he actually ends it. He lets them tire themselves out by attacking him, making them angrier and angrier, and finally finishing them off when they are weakened with one or two attacks of great strength. He gets into fights a lot, actually, as there are many cats who can't stand his cocky attitude. He always pleads innocent, as he is never the one to strike the first blow, but really most of the fights he gets into are his fault. He jibes others into attacking him, and then pins all the blame on them for the fight occuring in the first place.

Relationships

|Family|

| Jaggedclaws | His bastard of a father | Raggedclan Darkforest
| Dunesparrow | His cold-hearted mother | Tidalclan Rogue
| Strikepaw | His timid sister | Tidalclan Rogue
| Unnamed | His stillborn brother |
| Hawkpaw | His undiscovered half-brother | TidalClan

|Tracker|

✧ StarClan
✦ Darkforest
♤ RaggedClan
♧ AspenClan
♡ TidalClan
° Rogue/Loner/Kittypet

hate/enemy
dislike
unsure/acquaintance
respect
like
friend
good friend
family
crush
love
mates

♡ Birdcatcher | | "We used to be pretty close, and I guess she taught me well. She pierced my ear. She was more of a mom than anything else but dang... if she was a few seasons younger I might actually settle down with her. She's a looker with stunning eyes, and talented to boot. We don't talk the same way we used to when I was a young apprentice. I kind of miss that."

✦ Jaggedclaws | // | "I never knew my father. I guess I didn't even know he was my father until after he was dead. I would like to say that I really, really despise him, but he did give me these dashing scars. In all seriousness... I'm not sure what I think of him. I hate him for what I know him for, but I do not know why he did the things that he did. He's too confusing to try to puzzle out, and now that he's dead I doubt I'll get my answers."

° Dunesparrow | /// | "I should probably know my mother better than I knew my father, eh? But to be honest, I'm still not sure. She was gorgeous and talented, but she stuck to StarClan like law. And then... she went off to make kits with that foxhearted RaggedClan tom. Do I really know her? She's more unreachable than Jaggedclaws--at least we have portals to the Dark Forest. It's closer than the world where she took Strike."

° Strike | / | "My darling sister. I'm not surprised she went with mother when she left TidalClan--she was always sort of a wimp. She was sort of slow in the head too, but that made her a whole skylength less complicated than any of the other idiots that I'm related to."

♡ Tidepaw | / | "Tidepaw is an apprentice worthy of my attention. She works hard, even if she's a complete grump most of the time, and I'm pretty sure she likes me a lot more than she tries to let on. I'm pretty sure she lies to me a lot, but hey unless I find out for sure, I won't shun her for it. Yet."

♡ Kindlestep | / | "Ah, Kindlestep, you haven't changed a bit since I was a kit romping to your den for a patch on my paw. In fact, you're quite a stick in the mud--and I say that with sincere respect, you bob-tailed mother hen. I hear you're very popular with the ladies these days. My influence, I imagine. I'm so proud."

♤ Singewhisker | / | "Charredstep, your eyes bore deep into me soul as though you wish to strip me of all my secrets... but your claws dig even deeper when you wish to strip me of my skin. Please abandon your hatred and mistrust, dearest, for though I treasure each scar you give me, if you ruin my good looks I may never forgive you."

♡ Sirensong | / | "This she-cat is lovely, and recently set up the most perfect damsel-in-distress scenario. I hope diving into the freezing cold river and saving her life has left a good impression."

♤ Howlpaw | / | "Disrespectful, hot-headed, impulsive little apprentice. He reminds me a little of myself, back in the day, though I never would have been so stupid. He's pretty much completely blinded by his pride. I couldn't really fight him with a clear conscience, though. Not until he can fight back with any ability. Some day, Howlpaw. Some day."

♡ Hawkpaw | // | "My replacement, it seems, in my apprentice spot under Birdcatcher. He's not nearly as bright as I was at that age, nor as naturally talented, but I'm sure he'll shape up to be a good warrior in time. Birdy's a good mentor."

♧ Lynxtail | | "Now here's a little beauty. I met her when we were both taking a stroll along the border--I think she likes looking at the ocean, or at least watching the sun set into it. I can't blame her though, and nor can I begrudge her a view. Such a beautiful thing is meant for her beautiful eyes. I look forward to swapping more stories with her in the future."

♡ Shadethorn | | "I don't really know her very well. She's scarred, and seemed surprised when I commented on her beauty, poor thing. I need to dote on her a bit more, make up for what she believes that she lacks."

♡ Palecloud | / | "Cheeky she-cat. We've got a sort of game that we have going between us, though I'm not quite certain what the rules are. I think I'm winning, but I can never tell with her--she thinks she's old enough to be my mother, but she's really still young and quite pretty, which is more than can be said for some."

♤ Sharpshadow | | "Not much to be said about this she-cat, other than that she's madly in love with me. She's a good girl, even if she hasn't been able to smack manners into that apprentice of hers. I'm interested to see how this will play out."

♤ Mousecry | / | "Wow. You try to be nice to someone, and just... get shot down. It was harsh."

RP Example: With Kitsanil in tGO

Jensen’s tufted ears picked up the sound of bells as he walked to the sparse cluster of cats. They were beautiful bells, singing their tuneless song that reached him through the air. He slipped between two citizens as he moved to get a better look at what was going on, stopping when he saw the lithe, graceful movements of the gray she-cat. The crowd loved it—they were laughing and clapping their paws together with the beat of her dance, oohing and aahing whenever she pulled off a particularly beautiful or difficult move. Their excitement seemed to crackle through the air, infecting all those who came to get a look at what was going on. Though the crowd was small compared to one that someone might find in the markets, it was a decent size for a performer who had set up in this quiet part of the kingdom. Mostly the watchers were families who lived in the area, or other cats happening to pass by and catching a glimpse of the dance. They stayed to watch a few moves, beaming, then went on their way with a little more vigor than when they had come. Only a few really stayed to watch for long periods of time—but no doubt this particular dancer had large crowds when dancing in an area where cats came specifically to watch the performers.

Jensen stood, almost stunned, unaffected by the laughter and the adoration of the little gathering outside of the Eastern Quarter homes. As the cats he stood next to left, he stayed, watching her movements with a tight feeling in his chest, almost as though he couldn’t breathe. Of course there would be dancers here. He had known that there would be—it had been a sort of profession in the little cluster of houses that stood in the dense forest where humans rarely traveled—the place where he had been born and raised. They had been able to live as kingdom cats did, those few families that had set up houses outside of the kingdom. And since their lifestyles had been based off of those of kingdom cats, it was no surprise that the art of dancing had originated here as well. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see one performing, so naturally and gracefully that she made her stunts look easy. It was a profession—a way of life here in the cat kingdom.

But the tightness in his chest remained even as he told himself that it was natural. It even seemed to increase, as he knew that as long as he lived here, there would be dancers performing. He’d caught glimpses of them on his tutorial rounds through the markets, seen the musicians that some of them preformed with, but he’d never gone close. He’d avoided taking paths that would lead him to come across one, and in all honesty it had been easy. He had to stay focused on his job while he was on duty, and it was easy to convince himself to pay no attention to them. But now, when he had no plan and no excuses, he was here watching one, letting all of the bittersweet memories flood back into his mind. He watched the sokoke perform, but it was a white cat who danced in his mind, her movements beautifully accurate, the red ribbon she held twirling around her downy fur as if it were a part of her own body. The memory was a happy one, a beautiful sight, but it made him sad as well, and the constricting hand on his chest seemed to tighten.

I should leave, Jensen thought as he watched the gray dancer tumble through the air and across the ground, the bells jangling at her commands. He could see the discipline in her movements, even though they looked natural. He could see how hard she had worked to perfect these moves, how much effort she had put in while training to pull them off with such a natural air. He wrapped his cloak more tightly around him as he told himself, once again, that he should be on his way. But he didn’t move—he stayed longer than any other cat who dropped by to watch her act, perhaps laugh and applaud her, then continue with their day. He couldn’t seem to make himself move, so caught up in watching her movements and remembering another dancer who had been in his life for as long as he could remember and who had gone so suddenly from his own existence. His scar ached at the thought, all down his body where the flames had scorched away his fur and skin when he had been even younger than he was now. He could see Willa in every move that the dancer pulled off, even though many of them were moves that he had never before seen and which he doubted that Willa had been able to pull off. She’d been a good dancer, but she had been too young to have the skills that this bell-garbed sokoke possessed.

So he watched her, the young tom with the sad green eyes, for what might have been hours but could have been mere minutes as others passed by. Even he wasn’t quite sure to make of what he was experiencing. He thought of Willa often, but he had never remembered so many details about his old life as he was at the moment. But even though it was thoughts of his beautiful, white dancer which occupied his mind, it was Jet that he was watching with such a vulnerable, almost lost expression. He watched the gray dancer tumble and twirl, her blue eyes shining as she cast them around at the cats passing by. It was when she flipped into a handstand that his eyes lit up, glowing like the light of a scribe lantern as he leaned forward slightly, silently praying for her to finish it flawlessly. And she did—of course she did, springing from her front paws into a perfect backflip and landing without a hitch before continuing to dance as if she had done nothing to warrant any rest. Jensen rocked back on his heels as he laughed, his usual smile back on his face as he clapped for her even if she hadn’t paused to see anyone’s reaction. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn that she didn’t know that anyone was watching her at all, and that she’d simply picked a day and place to let herself dance.

After his mournful expression had cracked at her handstand backfip, Jensen was all smiles, a pure, sort of innocent enjoyment filling him as he watched the dancer practice the art that she had mastered. It was incredible to watch, to see a feline do things that probably should have been physically impossible. It was good to see someone do something well, something that she obviously enjoyed and could pull off so beautifully. He admired her discipline, and wondered why a dancer’s craft was held in such low esteem. To perform as she preformed, they had to put in probably as many hours into training as a warrior had to put into his sword skills. He found himself wondering how long she would perform, wondering if he could talk to her afterwards. He was hesitant, though. He didn’t know if she would feel threatened by a Legionnaire watching her show… though he supposed that she had no way to know his profession. Even if she did, he couldn’t imagine what threat she might see in him, but he knew that there were many citizens, especially Underclass, who were wary of the soldiers.

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Description
belongs to KellzFire and Zaabu

Name: | Scatterkit | Hoppaw | Hopflight |

Age: 1 1/2 season cycles

Gender: Male

Breed: Moggy

Rank: Young Warrior

Apprentice: Tidepaw bayflightstudios.deviantart.co…

Clan: TidalClan. Since it is a well known rumor that his father was from RaggedClan, he is careful to make it clear that his only allegiance is to the clan of his birth, even if he can be a bit friendly with she-cats of the others.

Appearance:

| Overall | Hopflight is a stunningly handsome cat, though his pelt looks very odd and disorganized. As he is a mix of so many different breeds, the dominant genes of the Tabbies, Maine Coons, Abyssinians, Showshoes, Ocelot-cats, and generations of mixed breed "moggies" like himself all show through on his pelt, making it look very cluttered and disorganized. But there is a certain artistry to the way the different colors swirl and speckle themselves across his pelt, and indeed he is very aware that he is, against all odds, a pretty dang good-looking tom.

| Body | He has a strong, sturdy body with long legs and is slightly larger than average. He is short-haired for the most part, other than his cheeks and the fringe between his ears. However, his rump is incredibly fluffy, and the long hair continues to grow along his short tail, one very long strand of hair hanging down from its base.

| Eyes | This tom's eyes are dark and bright at the same time, swirling with blues and greens like the depths of a body of water. The scars on the left side of his face do cross over his left eye, and though there is no mark on the eye itself his vision on that side is a bit worse than it should be had he not been injured.

| Pelt | His base color is the black of midnight, showing through steadily between the seemingly disorganized chaos of his other colors. One of those colors is a light, stone-gray, which starts on his tail and spreads over his rump, wrapping around the left side of his body, along with a few splotches on his left ear and left hind paw. This gray seems to be a gene from some long-dead tabby ancestor of his, since the entirety of those markings are covered with stripes of a slightly darker hue. The only exception to this is the gray fringe between his ears, with the two longer strands falling over his eyes. This fringe is swept back and ends at the base of his skull, and holds no stripes whatsoever. The second most apparent color of his pelt is brown which covers him similarly to the gray. This brown starts on his left shoulder and spine, extending down just a bit before wrapping around his torso and ending at the knee of his right leg. He has a few splotches of the same shade of brown on his left hind heel, his right forepaw up to the elbow, and both of his ears, abd the tip of his tail. Mirrored, brown markings sit under both of his eyes, the only symmetrical markings that he carries. His final fur color is a pale gold which shows up only sparingly. This color is only on the toes of his right forepaw, a few spots further up the same leg, the tip of his right ear, and a spiraling snake-like marking that wraps around his left foreleg. The gold also appears as a scattering of spots on his lower back.

| Scars and Accessories | Hopflight had a run-in with a bit of trouble when he was an apprentice, which has left him with scars along the left side of his face, one extending over that eye. His left ear isn't torn, but the cartilage is broken and so it flops on the side of his face. After a few moons of getting used to his new face after it had happened, Hopflight decided that the scars make him look rather dashing, and indeed they only add to his good-looks. The way he wears them, he definitely makes them more of an asset than a marring of his facial features. Because he decided he might as well ruin both of his ears, he's impaled the pale golden tip of his right ear with the long, curving claw--and in fact, the claw of the very cat who had scarred the other side of his face.

| Stance | Hopflight holds himself with a swagger that he's carefully perfected during his many years of practice. He always looks like he's ready to throw in a flirt or a sarcastic comment, and in fact, most of the time he is.

Personality: | Reckless | Flirtatious | Scathing | Aloof | Loyal | Lonely |

|Reckless| Hopflight doesn't seem to fear anything. Though he's not one of those brave, noble characters, nothing seems to intimidate him. This gives him a certain reckless attitude that is mot as much brave as it is stupid. If something interests him, he'll poke his nose into it without much fear. Since he has an incredibly high endurance, he can take a lot of hits and bite back pain, continuing with his cool, aloof attitude. This recklessness is self-absorbed, as he mostly does it to show off in front of she-cats or peers, but it does lead him to be able to react coolly and quickly to anything that happens. When he is frightened, he usually just laughs and tells himself to get a grip. He still has the self-preservation of any sane cat, but he doesn't usually hold back when it comes to taking risks.

|Flirtatious| Again, Hopflight is a good looking tom and he knows it. It doesn't matter if the she-cat is old or young, of his own clan or someone he meets at a gathering, he never turns off the charm. He likes the attention that he gets from such exploits, and he finds it funny when she-cats fall for him. However, most of it is talk--he's never actually fallen in love. He flatters primarily for attention and for personal gain, but that doesn't mean that he always has malicious intent. Usually he only flirts with those he genuinely likes. He enjoys company, and these skills at charm make him pretty likable even when it comes to all of his other faults.

|Scathing| When Hopflight is not flirting or flattering, he's making a sarcastic comment. He can be a bit bipolar when it comes to this, as it all depends on his mood. But his comments are never entirely bitter--they seem carefully thought out, usually just to get a rise out of another cat than anything else. He is especially sarcastic when it comes to fighting, in which he angers his opponent into attacking. Between his sarcasm and his endless flattery, it seems that he never takes anything seriously.

|Aloof| Though he will flirt, flatter, and jibe different cats at different times, it seems that he also holds everyone at arms length. Though it seems that he will invest himself fully in a cat during his interactions, he never ends up talking about his own true feelings. He's broken hearts before, and he will probably continue to do so as he flirts but does not actually initiate anything worthwhile. All of life seems a game to him, and this can lead many to see him as quite aloof. It seems that he really cares about others very little, and is incredibly self-absorbed. He can also be incredibly pessimistic, telling others the reality of a situation and the many ways that it will probably go wrong. This only strengthens this impression.

|Loyal| For all of his faults, there can be no questions about Hopflight's loyalty. To his Clan, he is entirely devoted, and keeps himself in check constantly--though he will flirt with she-cats from other clans, he would never actually start something with one of them. One of the reasons is that he knows that he is half-clan, and he knows too that the uncertain rumors that circle him are the truth. He enjoys this mystery, and no one is sure if he even knows the full story. But he is careful not to let the rumors go too far. He dislikes the other clans in general. but this loyalty also extends to friends. Though he is difficult to get along with and keep a lasting friendship with, he would risk his life (with a jibe or two at whoever he was saving) to save any who are close to him.

|Lonely| This combination of his personality makes it seem that he doesn't really care about anyone or anything. He is careful not to get too close to anyone. But this is more of a defense mechanism; a type of self-preservation. His life growing up had turned out to be a lie, his father had tried to kill him, his mother and sister left the Clan. His apparent self-absorption and craving of attention is actually because hemisses the company of others, of cats he can trust. The rumors only seem to get in the way of any lasting friendship. In short, he has some trust issues, and though he knows he brings it on himself, he is lonely.

History: | An Illegitimate Birth | Scars of the Family | A Self-Worthy Warrior |

|An Illegitimate Birth| As a kit, Hopflight didn't know of his actual heritage. His mother, Dunesparrow, was a well-respected warrior. Cold, and calculating, it was hard for most to imagine this proud battle-hardy feline as a mother, but when she moved into the nursery, no one suspected that the father was from another clan. She simply chose not to reveal who the father was--not a surprise, seeing as she guarded her secrets closely. Since her loyalty was unquestionable and she had never showed warmth to cats of another clan, it seemed that there was no risk that the kits where not fully TidalClan.
But as fate would have it, they were not. Dunesparrow had met Hopflight's father, Jaggedclaws, in a border skirmish between the two patrols. Though they left each other scars, as neither showed much mercy in battle, they were drawn to one another all the same. They met in secret for two moons before breaking off what had formed between them, and returning to their separate cold lives.
Kits were an unwelcome discovery, but Dunesparrow took her pregnancy as a punishment from StarClan for the laws that she had broken in meeting Jaggedclaws. Though she no longer held any love for the RaggedClan warrior, she had the kits and raised them dutifully. The first was a stillborn, though in the new mother's eyes it was simply another wish of StarClan for her emotional and moral punishment. The second was a dappled black and white female, who she dubbed Strikekit. And the last, a male, was Hopflight, though at birth he was called Scatterkit because of his scatter-marked pelt. Dunesparrow was more of an early mentor than a true mother, and though she loved them in her own way, Scatterkit found it hard to get a smile out of her. Both kits had TidalClan's wily instincts and RaggedClan's strength, so she taught them to be strong and tactful, playing to their assets that she knew they would receive with the mixed clan blood but never telling them where their lineage lay.
Scatterkit was much more adventurous than his little timid sister, though it was more for his own benefit than to actually prove himself as a warrior. It was clear from early on that he wasn't going to be anything like his uptight, cold-hearted mother, and it was just as clear that Dunesparrow disapproved.
As Scatterkit began to get older, he began showing off in front of the other kits. Fearless to the point of it being a bit stupid, he would always climb to the highest places he could find, like the sides of TidalClan's cave, and hop down quickly from ledge to ledge. Perhaps he craved attention a bit, since his sister was too timid to want to play and his mother, already seeing that they would not be good, rule-abiding, loyal warriors, showed him less and less affection as he grew. She shook her head at his antics, but knew that StarClan would not have given her kits that she could be proud of because of who their father was. Almost in respect to StarClan's wishes, as she realized Scatterkit would show off and hop down the walls of the cave no matter what she did, she ensured that by the time her son was an apprentice, his name was Hoppaw.

|Scars of the Family| Hoppaw was a surprisingly good student when it came to training. If there was one thing that his mother had been able to drill into him, it was respect for older, more experienced warriors, and the warning to listen to those who were more powerful than he was so he could learn from them. Though it took some time for him to really start listening to his mentor, Birdcatcher, by the time he was a moon into his training he was hanging onto her every word. He was pretty well-liked, and though he still showed off in front of other apprentices, even this began to tone down, and it seemed that he was going to mature after all.
It was three moons into his training that he was brought to his first gathering. He was too awestruck to notice the RaggedClan tom that stared at him the entire night, or that the same tom slipped into the bushes with his mother while the leaders were talking. With all eyes glued to the action in the gathering, no one noticed Jaggedclaws and Dunesparrow discussing what she had never told him--that she had borne his kits and raised them to TidalClan ways.
Infuriated and ashamed that he has half-blood kits, it was at that gathering when he dropped the hint to another TidalClan cat that Strikepaw and Hoppaw's father was a RaggedClan cat, though he told no one that the kits were actually his. The rumors festered for a time, lying dormant with the few that he dropped subtle hints to during the gathering.
When Jaggedclaws came to his senses, he realized that he had made a mistake in spreading the rumor. It had been an act of bitterness in his anger at the cat who had once been his forbidden mate, but it was then that he realized the true danger in such information coming into light. He had meant to wound Dunesparrow's pride, but the TidalClan warrior could easily come forward and tell TidalClan who the real father was. True, it would hurt her more than it would hurt him, but his position as a loyal RaggedClan warrior would be shaken--ruined, even, because of a mistake that he had made moons ago. Jaggedclaws believed that the only way he could cover this mistake was to end the lives of his half-blood kits which, as he believed, never should have come into being.
Hoppaw was on an analyzed solo hunting assessment when he first met his father. It was raining steadily, an added challenge to his hunt and the reason that Birdwatcher had decided to pick that particular day for an assessment, but also the perfect time for Jaggedclaws to catch Hoppaw in the open with no defense. In a stroke of bad luck, Hoppaw's hunting route brought him close to RaggedClan's territory where the cat was lying in wait. Jaggedclaws did not speak to Hoppaw, and did not give him warning when he attacked. Hoppaw reacted just in time to dodge the death blow that Jaggedclaws aimed for his throat, and instead the RaggedClan tom's long, twisted claws raked across the side of his face, scarring it and breaking the support in his left ear. But the warrior was single-minded in his belief that he was doing the right thing, and easily overpowered the half-trained apprentice. The rain had broken into a storm at this point; between the sheet of raindrops and rolling thunder, it seemed that Hoppaw's mentor had lost track of him and was too far away to help. However, Dunesparrow had been watching the RaggedClan border carefully since the gathering, certain that her former mate would soon try to destroy what the two of them had created. She was right, in that sense, and she knocked the tom off of her son before Jaggedclaws could succeed in landing a death blow.
Hoppaw was terrified as he watched his mother fight the strange, murderous tom from an enemy clan. He crouched as the rain continued to pour, too stunned and frightened to help as they tore at one another. Jaggedclaws was far stronger, but Dunesparrow knew the terrain and what the weather would do to it, and used this knowledge to her advantage. She forced Jaggedclaws to the edge of a drop into a gully. The mud there was too slick, the ground shifting from the rain, and the RaggedClan warrior fell to his death.
It was then that Dunesparrow turned to Hopflight, and though the apprentice was bleeding badly, frightened, and in terrible pain, she did not tend to his wounds. Instead, she revealed to him that the cat who had attacked him, the tom who had just died in a fall over the cliff, was his true father and he was half-clan. She had heard the rumors that were floating through TidalClan at that point, and her pride would not allow her to remain in the Clan any longer. To have given birth to half-bloods was, in her opinion, the greatest of shames, and she had no wish to either confirm or deny the rumors when she was confronted by them. She ordered Hoppaw to join her, as she was leaving the clans forever. Confused and frightened and not at all sure he knew who his mother was anymore, Hoppaw flat-out refused. He fled, bleeding and unable to open his wounded eye, and waited out the storm as he trembled and hid in the territory.
When the rain cleared, his mentor found him at last and brought him back to camp. When he arrived, he found that Dunesparrow had taken Strikepaw and left TidalClan for good. No one knew why, though most suspected that it was because the rumors were true. Hoppaw spent several days in the medicine cat's den, recovering from the wounds to his face, speaking to few and telling no one what had happened. When he was cleared, he left the camp and hopped down the cliff face to the body of his father, lying in the crevice. He stayed there for a good long while, even though the stench of decay and loose flesh had already taken over the bottom of the gully. When he finally left, he pulled out one of his father's extremely long, twisted claws from his paw and brought it with him as he climbed back up the gulch. When Birdcatcher found him, he was sitting beside a river, having washed the claw and sharpened the other end by dragging it against a rock. Hoppaw asked Birdcatcher to pierce the claw through his other ear, and now he wears it at all times as a reminder.

|A Self-Worthy Warrior| Hoppaw was never quite the same after that. He wasn't quite as close with his mentor, prefering to keep her at tails length and associating with her mostly to finish his training. When he earned his warrior name, he became aloof, sarcastic, and flirtatious. He grew to be incredibly handsome, and he is not as haunted and scarred as one might think from his family issues. He thinks that his scars and floppy ear make him dashing (which is entirely true) and he is considered quite the catch when it comes to suitable tomcats. He thinks that his backstory is romantic and dramatic, and though he's never told the whole story to a single cat, he's dropped bits and pieces to those she-cats that he has wooed. He thinks that he's the most awesome cat in existence, and he's proud of his accomplishments as a warrior. The cats of the Clan don't know what is true and what is only rumor about his history. No one knows what really went down that night where he was scarred, and indeed many believe that his own mother attacked him before she left the clan. But Hopflight enjoys those rumors--he likes that no one really knows who he is, and he in fact feeds the rumors himself by dropping hints that lead to conclusions that may or may not be entirely true. He is by no means well-adjusted, and he remains a sort of bad-boy, but he is on the path to becoming either a bold, respected warrior... or else a cat that none would be wise to turn their backs on.

Fighting Style: Hopflight is strong, tactful, and has incredible endurance and agility. When he wins a fight, it isn't by attacking, but instead by jibing them with scathing remarks until they are angry enough to attack him first. He defends and reacts, and he does not play far. He usually uses some pretty low blows, tripping his opponent and using his surroundings to his advantage. He works hard to humiliate whoever he is fighting before he actually ends it. He lets them tire themselves out by attacking him, making them angrier and angrier, and finally finishing them off when they are weakened with one or two attacks of great strength. He gets into fights a lot, actually, as there are many cats who can't stand his cocky attitude. He always pleads innocent, as he is never the one to strike the first blow, but really most of the fights he gets into are his fault. He jibes others into attacking him, and then pins all the blame on them for the fight occuring in the first place.

Relationships

|Family|

| Jaggedclaws | His bastard of a father | Raggedclan Darkforest
| Dunesparrow | His cold-hearted mother | Tidalclan Rogue
| Strikepaw | His timid sister | Tidalclan Rogue
| Unnamed | His stillborn brother |
| Hawkpaw | His undiscovered half-brother | TidalClan

|Tracker|

✧ StarClan
✦ Darkforest
♤ RaggedClan
♧ AspenClan
♡ TidalClan
° Rogue/Loner/Kittypet

hate/enemy
dislike
unsure/acquaintance
respect
like
friend
good friend
family
crush
love
mates

♡ Birdcatcher | | "We used to be pretty close, and I guess she taught me well. She pierced my ear. She was more of a mom than anything else but dang... if she was a few seasons younger I might actually settle down with her. She's a looker with stunning eyes, and talented to boot. We don't talk the same way we used to when I was a young apprentice. I kind of miss that."

✦ Jaggedclaws | // | "I never knew my father. I guess I didn't even know he was my father until after he was dead. I would like to say that I really, really despise him, but he did give me these dashing scars. In all seriousness... I'm not sure what I think of him. I hate him for what I know him for, but I do not know why he did the things that he did. He's too confusing to try to puzzle out, and now that he's dead I doubt I'll get my answers."

° Dunesparrow | /// | "I should probably know my mother better than I knew my father, eh? But to be honest, I'm still not sure. She was gorgeous and talented, but she stuck to StarClan like law. And then... she went off to make kits with that foxhearted RaggedClan tom. Do I really know her? She's more unreachable than Jaggedclaws--at least we have portals to the Dark Forest. It's closer than the world where she took Strike."

° Strike | / | "My darling sister. I'm not surprised she went with mother when she left TidalClan--she was always sort of a wimp. She was sort of slow in the head too, but that made her a whole skylength less complicated than any of the other idiots that I'm related to."

♡ Tidepaw | / | "Tidepaw is an apprentice worthy of my attention. She works hard, even if she's a complete grump most of the time, and I'm pretty sure she likes me a lot more than she tries to let on. I'm pretty sure she lies to me a lot, but hey unless I find out for sure, I won't shun her for it. Yet."

♡ Kindlestep | / | "Ah, Kindlestep, you haven't changed a bit since I was a kit romping to your den for a patch on my paw. In fact, you're quite a stick in the mud--and I say that with sincere respect, you bob-tailed mother hen. I hear you're very popular with the ladies these days. My influence, I imagine. I'm so proud."

♤ Singewhisker | / | "Charredstep, your eyes bore deep into me soul as though you wish to strip me of all my secrets... but your claws dig even deeper when you wish to strip me of my skin. Please abandon your hatred and mistrust, dearest, for though I treasure each scar you give me, if you ruin my good looks I may never forgive you."

♡ Sirensong | / | "This she-cat is lovely, and recently set up the most perfect damsel-in-distress scenario. I hope diving into the freezing cold river and saving her life has left a good impression."

♤ Howlpaw | / | "Disrespectful, hot-headed, impulsive little apprentice. He reminds me a little of myself, back in the day, though I never would have been so stupid. He's pretty much completely blinded by his pride. I couldn't really fight him with a clear conscience, though. Not until he can fight back with any ability. Some day, Howlpaw. Some day."

♡ Hawkpaw | // | "My replacement, it seems, in my apprentice spot under Birdcatcher. He's not nearly as bright as I was at that age, nor as naturally talented, but I'm sure he'll shape up to be a good warrior in time. Birdy's a good mentor."

♧ Lynxtail | | "Now here's a little beauty. I met her when we were both taking a stroll along the border--I think she likes looking at the ocean, or at least watching the sun set into it. I can't blame her though, and nor can I begrudge her a view. Such a beautiful thing is meant for her beautiful eyes. I look forward to swapping more stories with her in the future."

♡ Shadethorn | | "I don't really know her very well. She's scarred, and seemed surprised when I commented on her beauty, poor thing. I need to dote on her a bit more, make up for what she believes that she lacks."

♡ Palecloud | / | "Cheeky she-cat. We've got a sort of game that we have going between us, though I'm not quite certain what the rules are. I think I'm winning, but I can never tell with her--she thinks she's old enough to be my mother, but she's really still young and quite pretty, which is more than can be said for some."

♤ Sharpshadow | | "Not much to be said about this she-cat, other than that she's madly in love with me. She's a good girl, even if she hasn't been able to smack manners into that apprentice of hers. I'm interested to see how this will play out."

♤ Mousecry | / | "Wow. You try to be nice to someone, and just... get shot down. It was harsh."

RP Example: With Kitsanil in tGO

Jensen’s tufted ears picked up the sound of bells as he walked to the sparse cluster of cats. They were beautiful bells, singing their tuneless song that reached him through the air. He slipped between two citizens as he moved to get a better look at what was going on, stopping when he saw the lithe, graceful movements of the gray she-cat. The crowd loved it—they were laughing and clapping their paws together with the beat of her dance, oohing and aahing whenever she pulled off a particularly beautiful or difficult move. Their excitement seemed to crackle through the air, infecting all those who came to get a look at what was going on. Though the crowd was small compared to one that someone might find in the markets, it was a decent size for a performer who had set up in this quiet part of the kingdom. Mostly the watchers were families who lived in the area, or other cats happening to pass by and catching a glimpse of the dance. They stayed to watch a few moves, beaming, then went on their way with a little more vigor than when they had come. Only a few really stayed to watch for long periods of time—but no doubt this particular dancer had large crowds when dancing in an area where cats came specifically to watch the performers.

Jensen stood, almost stunned, unaffected by the laughter and the adoration of the little gathering outside of the Eastern Quarter homes. As the cats he stood next to left, he stayed, watching her movements with a tight feeling in his chest, almost as though he couldn’t breathe. Of course there would be dancers here. He had known that there would be—it had been a sort of profession in the little cluster of houses that stood in the dense forest where humans rarely traveled—the place where he had been born and raised. They had been able to live as kingdom cats did, those few families that had set up houses outside of the kingdom. And since their lifestyles had been based off of those of kingdom cats, it was no surprise that the art of dancing had originated here as well. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see one performing, so naturally and gracefully that she made her stunts look easy. It was a profession—a way of life here in the cat kingdom.

But the tightness in his chest remained even as he told himself that it was natural. It even seemed to increase, as he knew that as long as he lived here, there would be dancers performing. He’d caught glimpses of them on his tutorial rounds through the markets, seen the musicians that some of them preformed with, but he’d never gone close. He’d avoided taking paths that would lead him to come across one, and in all honesty it had been easy. He had to stay focused on his job while he was on duty, and it was easy to convince himself to pay no attention to them. But now, when he had no plan and no excuses, he was here watching one, letting all of the bittersweet memories flood back into his mind. He watched the sokoke perform, but it was a white cat who danced in his mind, her movements beautifully accurate, the red ribbon she held twirling around her downy fur as if it were a part of her own body. The memory was a happy one, a beautiful sight, but it made him sad as well, and the constricting hand on his chest seemed to tighten.

I should leave, Jensen thought as he watched the gray dancer tumble through the air and across the ground, the bells jangling at her commands. He could see the discipline in her movements, even though they looked natural. He could see how hard she had worked to perfect these moves, how much effort she had put in while training to pull them off with such a natural air. He wrapped his cloak more tightly around him as he told himself, once again, that he should be on his way. But he didn’t move—he stayed longer than any other cat who dropped by to watch her act, perhaps laugh and applaud her, then continue with their day. He couldn’t seem to make himself move, so caught up in watching her movements and remembering another dancer who had been in his life for as long as he could remember and who had gone so suddenly from his own existence. His scar ached at the thought, all down his body where the flames had scorched away his fur and skin when he had been even younger than he was now. He could see Willa in every move that the dancer pulled off, even though many of them were moves that he had never before seen and which he doubted that Willa had been able to pull off. She’d been a good dancer, but she had been too young to have the skills that this bell-garbed sokoke possessed.

So he watched her, the young tom with the sad green eyes, for what might have been hours but could have been mere minutes as others passed by. Even he wasn’t quite sure to make of what he was experiencing. He thought of Willa often, but he had never remembered so many details about his old life as he was at the moment. But even though it was thoughts of his beautiful, white dancer which occupied his mind, it was Jet that he was watching with such a vulnerable, almost lost expression. He watched the gray dancer tumble and twirl, her blue eyes shining as she cast them around at the cats passing by. It was when she flipped into a handstand that his eyes lit up, glowing like the light of a scribe lantern as he leaned forward slightly, silently praying for her to finish it flawlessly. And she did—of course she did, springing from her front paws into a perfect backflip and landing without a hitch before continuing to dance as if she had done nothing to warrant any rest. Jensen rocked back on his heels as he laughed, his usual smile back on his face as he clapped for her even if she hadn’t paused to see anyone’s reaction. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn that she didn’t know that anyone was watching her at all, and that she’d simply picked a day and place to let herself dance.

After his mournful expression had cracked at her handstand backfip, Jensen was all smiles, a pure, sort of innocent enjoyment filling him as he watched the dancer practice the art that she had mastered. It was incredible to watch, to see a feline do things that probably should have been physically impossible. It was good to see someone do something well, something that she obviously enjoyed and could pull off so beautifully. He admired her discipline, and wondered why a dancer’s craft was held in such low esteem. To perform as she preformed, they had to put in probably as many hours into training as a warrior had to put into his sword skills. He found himself wondering how long she would perform, wondering if he could talk to her afterwards. He was hesitant, though. He didn’t know if she would feel threatened by a Legionnaire watching her show… though he supposed that she had no way to know his profession. Even if she did, he couldn’t imagine what threat she might see in him, but he knew that there were many citizens, especially Underclass, who were wary of the soldiers.

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