kiwitail, windclan warrior.

Anger is indeed a multifaceted emotion; it strikes in many twisted forms, from a bitter lingering of passive aggression to the intensive brunt force of self righteous indignation. So perhaps you might presume me as exaggerating when I describe Kiwitail as the very epitome of anger in its pure, unadulterated form; I assure you however, that unfortunately, no, such a claim is no exaggeration. For you see, Kiwitail is indeed a tiny ball of bustling, bubbling, rage filled fluff.

Don't be afraid. He isn't exactly a dangerous sort. No, he's much too tiny for that, much too adorable, though don't you dare ever say such to his face. Rather, Kiwitail's resentment stems from a deeply imbued frustration, a desperate yearning and competitivity that, in truth, serves as his downfall. Oh yes, he's the competitive sort, the type that would rather die than lose at even the silliest or pettiest of games. Been like that from birth, he has. It doesn't help that, from the very moment he opened his eyes, he saw his sister Dingofang as a rival in arms.

Kiwitail isn't exactly the most graceful of toms, nor is he incredibly mature in even the vaguest of sense. He's much too preoccupied with besting those around him, really, proving himself to some imaginary foe. Achievements establish his self worth; driven by a desire for success and an overbearing desperation to triumph and prosper over any and all, Kiwitail is incredibly critical, finding even the most nitpicking of faults within himself and those around him.

An impatient sort, Kiwitail is highly strung, constantly under a state of stress and bouncing about on the move. Just like the ceaseless flow of the river, it's practically impossible to have this tomcat relax his muscles and indulge in even the briefest moments of indolence. No, rather, his blood is constantly bubbling, his fur forever prickled on end. Relaxation? Psh! That's not at all a word he holds dear in his vocabulary.

He lacks a filter, his tongue wielded a brain of its own, and every word he spits drips with a honeyed sarcasm, a thick tease and edged with thorny barbs. Despite this, allow me to assure you that within this small breast beats a heart of gold. Oh, he'll die before he ever admits such a thing, and he covers his concern and compassion with grating quips and embarrassed insults. He might be difficult to get along with, but Kiwitail is in truth quite a kind soul, a tomcat who'll extend a helping paw when needed, particularly around those younger than him. Make no mistake, he'll grumble and complain about it for moons after on end - but that's merely his way of covering up an act of kindness with rude rebuttals and brash sarcasm.

Hot tempered, Kiwitail is like tongues of blazing cardinal flame; evoke even the tiniest inch of his wrath, and he'll waste no time in biting back with the force of a ravenous wolf. This warrior has trouble managing his emotions in a healthy way, vexation and frustration, envy and bitterness taking an easy toll upon him. If we're being truthful here, then I must admit that Kiwitail is obscenely sensitive; he can dish it out, but he sure can't take it, and you'll find him taking offense to even the most harmless of comments. Kiwitail is constantly on the alert and the defensive, ready to fight back any rebuke with fighting words of his own.

Rigidly organized, he despises any break of routine, and sticks closely to a disciplined order of procedure through each and every day. Kiwitail seeks to impress the higher ups, perhaps even surpass them someday, his ambition shining bright like the pallid, luminous glow of the moon. And none can deny that Kiwitail is indeed a proactive tom, determined and motivated to the utmost; giving up is never an option, and he gives each and every obstacle he encounters his best shot to overcome.

All in all, though a tad socially awkward and certainly no warrior of the most pleasant company, get to know Kiwitail and you'll find a loyal and driven heart thudding deep in his chest. Far from perfect - quite the opposite in fact, rather ironic in comparison to his perfectionist nature - Kiwitail struggles with a great deal of flaws and a constant desire to overachieve, though make no mistake. He mightn't admit it to you, but he's no cruel, cold-hearted fool, even if at times he often comes across in such a manner. Rather, he's married to his position as a warrior, and competition further lures him out of his comfort zone.

Just don't call him cute. Or you'll have to face the wrath of his adorable, tiny, chubby little paws!

They say the birth of a child makes for one of the happiest moments in a Queen's life; alas, the birth of Kiwikit and Dingokit was anything but a joyful occasion. Loss hung heavy in the air that day, as amid the hustle and bustle and spasms of jolting pain, Swallowtail could only think one solitary thing - if only Flamewhisker were here to share this with me.

Alas, life had not been kind to her poor mate. Stolen by StarClan long before his time, he made a loving mate, and would've proved himself a fantastic father too, given the chance. When all was said and done, and two scrappy bundles snuggled into the depths of her belly, so it was that Flamewhisker's little replica drew Swallowtail's attention first.

She was a perfect painting of her father; red tabby striped pelt, swirls of russet and darker ginger melting into rich, creamy undertones. For one merely a few hours old, she already appeared well formed, and her very existence was a soft comfort to Swallowtail's raw and throbbing grief. There was another; a tom, to be precise, and though she loved him too, it was clear right from the beginning whom her favorite in the litter was.

Dingokit, A strong name, one Flamewhisker had babbled on about should they ever be blessed with a daughter. And as time drawled on, caught in the rushing current of the ever changing seasons, so was it made obvious by day one that little Dingokit could do no wrong.

Kiwikit was a bustling ball of burning energy right from his first breath; he was needy, in truth, a clingy child that desired any sort of attention, whether it be good or bad. Unfortunately Swallowtail was much too concerned with sheltering the innocent Dingokit; wrapping her absorbent mind up in fantastical woolly stories of their father's escapades, of good vs evil. It was the first serving of bitterness Kiwikit was dealt.

The next came from the other kits in the Nursery. Due to his tail - or, rather, lack of one - the other children found him quite a sight. The snide jabs and childish mockery stabbed and twisted at his chest like a knife - but there was no mother to save him from their bullying. No. She was much too preoccupied with his stupid little sister, of all cats.

So it was that Kiwikit redirected his anger onto the closest victim - the darling fae herself. It started out with small lies; "hey, Dingokit, if you make it outside of Camp the warriors will be super impressed." The lies escalated, until they were, "oh, Dingokit, eat this! It tastes funny, but it gives you special powers," or, "hey, Dingokit, I heard there's a super cool tree just out of Camp. The warriors'll be super impressed if ya climb it."She ate it all up, poor thing; as he fed her each and every tempting tale, his contempt for his naive and trusting sister only grew and grew.

Of course, it was never Dingokit that got in trouble. The truth always came out. Kiwikit was always blamed. The cycle repeated, day in and day out. By the time he was six moons old, he'd gained quite the reputation as the Nursery's 'problem child.' He was put with an overtly strict mentor by the name of Lionstrike. He was a cat who took no such nonsense; always a hard word to say, always a critical comment. He dished out punishments like a morning breakfast. And as weird as it was, Kiwipaw thrived under him.

Lionstrike was his first proper parental figure; a cat that gave him all the attention he had, even if a chunk of it was spent on reinforcement and scolding. They developed an argumentative, but fond relationship; Kiwipaw grew to respect him, and Lionstrike became the only cat that could keep this unruly youngster under control. It was a complex relationship, but it worked.

At the same time, he remained relatively close with Dingopaw; there was still bitterness there, and she was the cat that could drive him up the wall like no other could, but regardless, they were siblings. He cared for her - dare I say it - loved her even. You'd never catch him showing it in any typical way, however. No, their relationship consisted of bickering and one-sided bullying on Kiwipaw's part, but it worked, and in truth he preferred it this way.

Finally came the day to earn their warrior names. Dingopaw became Dingofang, funnily enough, and Kiwipaw was dubbed Kiwitail. He didn't miss the inappropriate giggles from his Nursery litter mates so many moons ago; it only tightened the anger in his chest, strengthened his resolve to show them all that he was underestimated. Despite his good relationship with Lionstrike, he's still very much a small and angry child, bitter and pessimistic about the world.

None.