Thrush [of] Rogues

[[Jinxed.Forever]]

{Look at me}

{They call me Thrush}

{I am a tom}

{I have walked this land for 30 moons}

{I am a Rogue}

{Recognize me}

Powerful. Strong. A force to be reckoned with. Thrush's thick pelt is a dark, tortoise-shell pattern with a black stripe that runs up along his nose, fading over the crest of his skull. Both of his ears are rimmed with black fur, accenting the mesh of browns that line his body. His eyes are piercing and cold, a pale striking yellow devoid of warmth. They seem to know much more than they are told, and can see much more than what is revealed. For his reputation, his body is surprisingly average in size. Perhaps slightly larger than most males his age, but in no way does he tower. His teeth glisten, and his claws are dark and always sharpened well- his body has endured brutal elements and lethal combat, acclimating and adjusting to the dangers of the world. Thrush's tail is full-length, and his whiskers are dark, always fanned and attune to his surroundings.

{Understand me}

Thrush isn't known for his compassion, never spoken of for his chivalry. Thrush is distant and detached, his "humanity" having drained away many moons ago. He has no friends. He has no family. He has no followers. He has no allies. However, if one were to work a way into Thrush's circle of respect, the rogue would forever be an unwavering ally. Thrush has only himself, and that's all he needs. Cats either earn the air they breathe, or they relinquish their place in this land- this is his motto of combat. He will toy with his adversaries- test them- evaluate them- determine whether or not they are worth his acknowledgment. Mind games, trials of endurance, pushing against the boundaries of a feline's threshold- or tolerance- for pain. Thrush believes that cats of the present day are no longer accepted into Starclan because they have forgotten how to be strong- only the elite few will walk amongst the stars.

{Hear my story}

Before his eyes had opened, before he even had time to adjust to the expanse of world he had entered into, Thrush was ripped away from his mother's belly. Stolen before knowing the warmth of his mother's love. Taken for only the cruelest of intentions by his own father. The tom-kit received milk and shelter from a rogue she-cat who had paired herself with his father- she saw herself as a part of a family, Thrush's father saw her as an asset, Thrush saw her as the world. After few moons had passed, however, not long after milk was no longer necessary, Thrush found his "mother" lying motionless- mangled- among the gnarling roots of a rotting tree. The sights ripped him to pieces, shattering his heart- a cold heart that would never piece back together.

Alone now with his father, Thrush was raised as a fighter, a survivor, as nothing short of a monster. Because of his mother's death, Thrush never let himself attach to anyone. Never form any bonds, never care for another- this aftermath backfired on his father. One night, after waking from a particularly fitful slumber, an emptiness seeped into Thrush's once vibrant golden eyes. He'd seen everything- the gnarling roots, the gushing blood, the pulsing heart... He heard his mother's screams, and seen the excitement in his father's eyes as his claws tore her apart. Beneath a moonless sky, Thrush had dreamed it all. Without a sound, Thrush found his father, sleeping peacefully, and without a warning, dealt him a punishment worthy of his crime.

Since then, Thrush has lived as a nomad, traversing from place to place. He stumbled upon the clans moons ago, decided to hang around for a little while and test these so-called "warriors". They intrigued him. He caused trouble in all territories, for both apprentices and experienced warriors- once even partnering with Carner. Thrush could never find enough respect for the murderous rogue, however, and so walked away from any potential allegiance. Eventually word and wind of Thrush died away, and since the move he has seemingly left the clans to their peace for good.

{My relations}

Father: deceased
Mother: deceased
*Mother: unknown

[[Ridge] of [Sapphire] light]

x. accepted