04♂ ▪ 04♀ ▪ 08 TOTAL

erminestar // lanky white tom with blue eyes and a twisted jaw.

OPEN // this position is currently available.

finchfur // calico she-cat with long fur, a thick tail, and pale green eyes.

PENDING // this position is open by request only.

thunderclan reports excellent prey and adequate herb growth. dark clouds gather over the forest, obscuring the moon.
02♂ ▪ 03♀ ▪ 05 TOTAL

mothstar // small long-furred grey and white tabby she-cat with dark amber eyes.

closed // this position is closed temporarily for plot purposes. check back later!

lavendernose // dilute tortoiseshell she-cat with cloudy blue eyes.

PENDING // this position is open by request only.

windclan reports adequate prey and adequate herb growth. dark clouds gather over the moor, obscuring the moon.
03♂ ▪ 03♀ ▪ 00∅ ▪ 06 TOTAL

whitestar // white she-cat with long fur, yellow eyes, and a scarred nose.

OPEN // this position is currently available.

quillfrost // gaunt, medium-furred black smoke tabby tom with pale, clouded blue eyes.

PENDING // this position is open by request only.

riverclan reports excellent prey and excellent herb growth. there is the faintest twinkle in the starlight over the river.
04♂ ▪ 05♀ ▪ 09 TOTAL

rainstar // silver spotted she-cat with tawny markings and blue eyes.

cedarclaw // large dark tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

hickoryleaf // brown spotted tom with green eyes.

PENDING // this position is open by request only.

shadowclan reports adequate prey and excellent herb growth. the stars glitter unreadably over the marsh at night.
01♂ ▪ 00♀ ▪ 01 TOTAL

00♂ ▪ 00♀ ▪ 00 TOTAL

00♂ ▪ 00♀ ▪ 00 TOTAL

02♂ ▪ 00♀ ▪ 02 TOTAL


welcome to anathaema, a literate warriors roleplay set on an alternate timeline from the events of into the wild. we are focused on creativity. we offer member-driven plots and lenient application and post requirements. we also feature new concepts, locations, and dynamics that set us apart from other warriors rpgs. feel free to look around and see all that we have to offer.


skin created by STEVE ROGERS at SHINE & CAUTION. miniprofile by AMANDA at SHINE. the custom forum script is credited to BLACK. the toggle cbox is thanks to KISMET. pixel badges are by DANDELION. site graphics are by ELIAS. banner featuring HICKORYLEAF.
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alias: elias
allegiance: deep russet she-cat with black stripes and pale blue eyes
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alignment: lawful neutral
augur: mockingbirds
Joined: 25-August 16
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My Content
Sep 19 2016, 07:16 PM
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<center><div class="ivy">
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<div class="top">In my left hand there is the familiar<br>
In my right hand there's the great unknown</div>

<div class="text">
there were few cats awake early enough to catch the first lazy stretches of sunlight across the dawn sky; thunderclan's camp breathed with the soft snores and murmurs of weary warriors, not yet ready to confront the day. even the nursery was still. greenleaf warmth laid a thick, downy wing over every den, keeping the peace, muffling all sound. at the mouth of the clearing, the fern tunnel rustled. broad tiger-striped shoulders pressed through the fragrant stalks, a she-cat padding in with the scents of the forest still clinging to her russet pelt. she clasped a thrush in her teeth, deposited it on the meager fresh-kill pile. it would soon be heaping with offerings come sunhigh, she was sure. today was a good day for hunting. the birds were singing loudly in the trees, and the undergrowth was alive with the rustling and scampering of many tiny feet.<p>

it appeared, upon cursory inspection, that no cat besides her was awake. she settled herself at the edge of the clearing and began washing her paws, working the dirt out of her long, sharp claws. the dawn patrols would be sent out soon, and she'd probably offer herself up for one of them, even though she'd been out in the forest for the better part of the night. there was a sharp ache between her hipbones that only got worse as the moons wore on, but she had no intention of slowing down yet. thunderclan didn't seem like it was ready to fare for itself quite yet.<p>

the whispering of the lichen over the leaders' den caught the senior warrior's ear, and she swiveled it to follow the sound; erminestar was up, it seemed. she tugged at her dewclaw with her teeth, opening an eye to trek the snow-white leader's movement across the camp. her whiskers twitched in greeting. <b>"good morning, erminestar,"</b> she rasped on a purr. out of any cat in the clan, he was one of the few she was most likely to make conversation with. her frost-blue gaze flickered to the fresh-kill pile, the stale offerings alongside her thrush. <b>"slim pickings this morning."</b>

<div class="small">
<b>+ tag</b>erminestar</div>

</div><a href=""><span style="font: bold 8px/20px calibri; opacity: .5; text-align:center;">BY MITZI</span></a></center>


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Aug 30 2016, 07:08 AM
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pitchkit - pitchpaw
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<div style="overflow: hidden;"><div style="float: left; width: 170px;">
<b>age:</b> 120 moons <br>
<b>gender:</b> she-cat <br>
<b>sexuality:</b> bisexual <br><br>

<b>allegiance blurb:</b> <br>
deep russet she-cat with striking black stripes and pale blue eyes.</div><div style="float: right; width: 170px;">
<b>clan</b>: thunderclan <br>
<b>rank</b>: senior warrior <br>
<b>augur</b>: mockingbird<br>
<b>reason for name:</b><br>
<i>pitch</i>: for the deep black striping of her pelt<br>
<i>stripe</i>: an "average" cat with no noteworthy traits, but shows distinctive tabby markings</div></div><br><br>

<div style="text-align: justify; height: 150px; overflow: auto;">
ever since her kithood, pitchstripe was a very striking cat in appearance. that is, after all, what she is named after: the distinctive slashes of deepest shadow that marked the lustrous russet of her pelt, black as the pitch and spreading like the branches of a deadened tree from the trunk of her spine. she takes great pride in her pelt, that is for sure. a name is a promise, a highlight of specialty, and though her name describes her appearance and not her capabilities as a warrior, it still is only sensible to keep herself true to her name. with this logic she grooms her pelt frequently, keeping it shiny and dense. it is the trademark of her appearance, passed down from her mother, and one of the first things one might recognize of her or mention in a description of her to another cat. <p>

pitchstripe is also the bearer of a pair of bright eyes, pale and ice-blue in color, standing out especially with the dark striping around the lids. they are piercing, judgmental eyes, ones that seem to stare straight past your face and pry open the darkest corners of your mind. of course, she is no psychic, but a stare so cold is quite intimidating to face. these piercing eyes are set in a strong, distinctive round face with high cheekbones and a long muzzle. her whisker pads, chin, and throat are all a bright white, leading down into an equally pale underside that is marked occasionally with those same pitch stripes that mark her elsewhere. <p>

of build, pitchstripe is a sturdy cat, with strong limbs and a muscled chest and hindquarters. she is not, therefore, lean or thin of build, rather she bears the bulkiness of a cat built to stalk and fight beneath the cover of lush oak trees, just long-limbed enough to allow her to step easily through undergrowth without taking away from her overall strength. her musculature comes from moons of training, not just to fight and swim and fish, but to maintain an incredible amount of control over every part of her body. she is an elegant creature, and each motion is with fluidity; her mastery of her own form is clear in every step she takes, even more so when she is tracking her prey or tailing her opponent in preparation for that fearsome strike. pitchstripe is built for elegance, for self-discipline, and for learned skill rather than a born capability, of which she admittedly has little, perhaps even below that of the average cat. her strength is in nurture rather than nature.

<div style="text-align: justify; height: 150px; overflow: auto;">
One of Pitchstripe's greatest traits is quick mind. She is a cat that can think swiftly and innovatively, able to find a novel concept within a shorter span of time than her fellows. This makes her an incredibly skilled hunter and a gifted tactician, which is a massive asset to her Clan that outshines her rather commonplace fighting skills. She is not the strongest cat of ThunderClan, nor the most skilled with her paws, but her mind is sharper than any claw and she can easily outsmart an unsuspecting enemy without needing to attempt - and most likely fail - to overpower or outmaneuver them. When she's focused she is allowed a reservoir of calm that she can draw from in moments of strain, which gives her a clear, level head on the battlefield. She is an anxious cat by nature, deep within, and it has taken seasons to master her mind and body, but at this point in her life she is quite skilled at it.<p>

Pitchstripe is not easily deterred from any goal she has. As an apprentice, Pitchstripe surprised her mentor when she writhed through a dense bramble bush to get at a nest of baby mice, a rare newleaf treat in ThunderClan territory. Her ears were torn, her nose slashed and her pelt patched and bleeding in some places, but she came out with the mice by their tails, as proud as ever. She will face any enemy no matter how outmatched she may be, and being injured does not particularly affect her until after the fact. It's almost eerie, to watch her reach such an intense focus while fighting that being laid open to the bone barely elicits a flinch from her. Once her focus is gone, however, Pitchstripe is hit by the intensity of her injuries to the point of taking her breath away. Unfortunately for her, this makes it impossible for her to tell when she should retreat instead of continuing a fight that she cannot win, and while more alert, sensible cats may be turning tail, she is still flashing teeth and claws. Border skirmishes, for this reason, can often end with her much worse for wear than her Clanmates. It's a grievance for her, to be sure, but a strong asset in battle, freeing her from lesser distractions.<p>

When it comes to companionship, Pitchstripe's mentality does not quite suit her position. As a member of a Clan she is meant to bond inexorably with her fellows, tie tight the ropes that hold them all together and forge them in steel and obsidian, their only protection from the darkness of life without the warrior code. However, Pitchstripe has always been a lonely cat. Be it her kithood spent as the only babe of her parents' litter, or be it her mentor's penchant for insisting she learn to harness her own mind and not so much its connection to others; whatever is to blame, Pitchstripe is just as content to be alone as she is to be with her Clanmates. That is not to say that she does not love them, or that she would rather live the life of a rogue. Her Clan means everything to her, and she is content to live as a member of a greater whole. She is simply not, and will never be, a social butterfly of any sort. She will speak when spoken to, and at times issue commands when it is expected of her, but for the most part she keeps to herself. It is simply how she is.<p>

Pitchstripe is a cunning cat, that cannot be denied. Whether that is a good or a bad thing, however, is a question that can only be answered in context. It is no surprise that an intelligent cat might focus their mind on some form of manipulation, of considering and processing how to warp a situation to best suit their own interests. In a warrior, this can be a valuable trait. A silver tongue and quick mind can win territory and deter warfare, can bring allies and knock down enemies. But a cat whose cunning mind turns from the good of the Clan to the good of the self is a cat who is on the darker path, and at times, Pitchstripe has been known to take those shadowed pawsteps. Her sly mind is a tool, much like a blade: used correctly it can carve a thing of beauty and mastery, but wielded with wrong intentions, and it can steal the breath of life. Such is Pitchstripe's mind, and such is the dilemma that StarClan witnesses as she takes each pawstep through her life.<p>

There are a great many ways to handle personal slights. Many cats might hold a forgiving mentality, a whisper of 'forgive and forget,' but Pitchstripe is not one of those weaker sort. A wrong committed by another is not so easily forgotten, and in the near or distant future, Pitchstripe will repay it tenfold. This does nothing to endear her even to her own Clanmates, let alone rival warriors. Such behavior is seen as hateful, even as warmongering, but Pitchstripe believes it justified. Why should any cat be allowed to wrong her, and yet not suspect an answering wrong? Life is full of checks and balances, and in the ThunderClan warrior's mind, it keeps the semblance of law and order to take vengeance when a slight is committed. Yet her grudge will often get away from her, and her reactions may often seem extreme (lose a whisker, take an eye, the elders say) and it does not always alleviate itself after vengeance has been taken. Pitchstripe will often still hold her grudges even seasons after she has taken her own twisted revenge.<p>

As a cat grows older, they tend to grow...cranky. It's a well-known fact that every cat is aware of, though they don't dare speak of it around senior warriors or elders. Pitchstripe is one of those that has fallen victim to that inevitable grumpy personality shift over the moons of her warriorhood, often snapping at young warriors when they goof off or narrowing unamused eyes at jokes uttered in her direction. She has never been a particularly animated or playful cat but she is now much less so, and the prickly attitude leaves her more avoided than anything by the younger individuals of her Clan. It doesn't appear to concern her any. She is a serious soul and she wishes to perform her duties, not play games. Pitchstripe is a great many things, and a lot of them are good, but she is not always a fun cat to be around.

<div class="appinner" style="text-align: justify; height: 200px; overflow: auto;">
Pitchkit was born in the late greenleaf to Hazelfoot and Sloepelt. Her birth was cause for great celebration, indeed: both of her parents were well-loved in the Clan, skilled warriors of proud parentage who had been close since apprenticehood. At her birth, the elders murmured of the worries of birthing only a single kit despite the lush flowerings of greenleaf that had nurtured Hazelfoot throughout her pregnancy; some claimed that it was a bad omen, a sign of a weak birth and a weak kit, while others insisted that a lone kitten meant that this solitary babe was so strong that its mother's body could not spare the nurturing for another kit. Pitchkit's parents ignoring the utterings, proud of their kit no matter what she may turn out to be. They named her Pitch, for the shadow-black stripes that marked even her fluffy kitten pelt so distinctively. She was special to them, if not to anycat else.<p>

It turned out that neither whisperings were true: Pitchkit was not particularly strong, nor particularly weak as a kit. In fact, she was...average, though much more alert and contemplative than other kittens. Where others her age might be pouncing on tufts of swampgrass and begging to explore the territory, Pitchkit sat at the edge of the den, merely observing. She never showed an interest in playing with other kits, but her parents found her to be no less mentally developed - in fact, she was far beyond the capabilities of the kits older than her, mentally. Still Sloepelt hoped that his daughter would show a particular fighting prowess: those hopes would be dashed, unfortunately, come leafbare. It brought the first spread of whitecough to the den, and Pitchkit was one of the first to catch the potentially deadly disease. She recovered, though her strength was diminished somewhat.<p>

At her sixth moon, Pitchpaw was apprenticed to Larchtooth, a rather quiet senior warrior that Dawnstar thought to be a good match for the introspective she-cat. Pitchpaw did not perform above average as a fighter or a hunter, but Larchtooth caught her mental capabilities fairly early on, and set about teaching her how to hone them and refine them. Pitchpaw had difficulty focusing on one concept at a time, and would often get distracted during training sessions: Larchtooth remedied this by taking her into the swamps, sitting her upon a root, and telling her to focus her thoughts inwards until her mind fell as still as a pool of water and her own heartbeat was the only sound in her ears. Pitchpaw found herself attaining that level of peace and focus needed to continue her training properly, and after moons of teaching his apprentice how to take control not only of every sect of her mind but every muscle of her body as well, Larchtooth considered Pitchpaw ready for warriorhood.<p>

Pitchpaw's ceremony was delayed for a moon due to yet another bout of whitecough seizing the young she-cat: this time, she was nearly taken by the disease, which took a far more brutal toll on her once-ravaged body than her previous bout with the illness. She recovered again, but only barely, and there was recognition that her abilities as a fighter would forever suffer for her foul luck. Finally, finally, Pitchpaw received her warrior name of Pitchstripe, and was able to continue her life as a warrior even if it were a month behind schedule. As a warrior, her life was uneventful, until the day that she received her first apprentice, Doepaw.<p>

Doepaw was, luckily for Pitchstripe, of a similar mind to her mentor. She was a fairly quiet, introverted she-cat, but her hunting skills shone beyond anything else about her. The struggles of mentoring wore on Pitchstripe at first and she strained under the pressure, but it wasn't long before the two cats were moving in sync, and Doepaw was progressing in her training with great swiftness. Pitchstripe was proud to see her named Doespring, though she had a hard time telling the she-cat as much. Doespring had been her apprentice long enough to understand, however, and appreciated the pride her former mentor felt in her.

<div style="width: 250px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><h3>ELIAS</h3>
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( 2MO OOC = 1MO IC )
green buds have begun to line the boughs of the forest, heralding the long-awaited arrival of newleaf. after a particularly vicious leafbare, the clans welcome the lengthening days and turn eagerly to the face of a warmer sun as the forest once again sets itself to grow.

deep in the meadow {warriors} The Warriors Forest
in flore