DAHLIA
AGE 30 moons
GENDER she-cat
CLAN loner
RANK loner
SHORT DESCRIPTION A small brown she-cat with burning amber eyes.
APPEARANCE It's easy to underestimate Dahlia.
The eye of an untrained warrior is easily fooled by the fact she is quite short. Her legs aren't particularly long. A warrior who knows how to size up the enemy, however, would think twice before engaging Dahlia in battle. While she may be small she hides thick muscle underneath her fluffy fur. Her legs are where this is the most obvious - thick and set upon wide paws, they trail up to broad shoulders that would perhaps be more fitting upon a linebacker than a cat. Her hips and back legs are where the real power resides, though, and Dahlia is capable of giving a kick that would make many cats regret tangling with her. She's a powerhouse of a feline, small but compact.
She could be lovely, if she cared enough to groom herself. Her long fur often lies in mats. Her head is rounded with a pronounced muzzle and large eyes, an innocent's face - one that is often blank with indifference. It is rare for Dahlia to emote anything beyond displeasure, and when she does she often displays the wrong emotions. She has difficulty socializing and it isn't uncommon for younger cats to be disturbed by her voice or her mannerisms - they don't quite match up to what she says, even when she's being perfectly honest with those around her.
PERSONALITY antagonistic; Dahlia teeters on the edge of true antagonism. She just isn't quite sure if she truly wants to make that plunge into
I actually hate the world. She doesn't quite delight in antagonizing those around her so much as she feels empty inside and envious of those that are living happy lives. She rarely lashes out in a violent manner, but she quite often seeks to undermine what others have verbally; pointing out the little flaws in their lives and picking at obvious frayed edges until their lives come crumbling apart. In her own mind she is doing them a favor, showing them the cruel reality of life before it can all come crumbling down around their heads.She takes great delight in confusing clan cats and making them question the warrior code.
distrustful; She is a cat that has been deeply wounded by everyone she has let underneath her skin, from her mother to her mate and even those little precious scraps of fur who never drew their first breaths. Because of this, she cannot bring herself to allow anyone else close to her. Beyond her distrust, she outright feels a dislike of most adult cats and regards them as dangerous. The clans are a matter of great curiosity to her, as they are an example of adult cats working together to care for those weaker than them - though she feels that the relations between clans only reaffirm her feelings.
self-hating; Dahlia is disgusted with herself. She often wonders what her kits would think of her if they had survived - would they be afraid of the monstrous creature that their mother has become? When she dreams, her fur is soaked in the blood of her family and no matter how hard she grooms herself, no matter how much of her fur she tears out, the blood won't go. Guilt plagues her paw-steps. For this reason, she takes poor care of herself. But Dahlia's self-hate is a double edged sword for the cats around her, as it often drives her to act out and become even more bitterly unkind to those around her. She never wants to kill another cat, never wants to taste blood again - but she hates those cats around her that can go through life without hating themselves every minute. She takes great delight in confusing clan cats and making them question the warrior code.
avoidant; Dahlia likes to drown her issues in avoidance. Were she a human, she would no doubt be an alcoholic - as a cat, she fights and seeks out attractive company. She can often be found on the borders of clan territory, engaging with border patrols or flirting with singular cats. When she is directly confronted on her issues, however, she becomes dissociative and avoids the topic as much as possible. She can even become panicked if pushed too far, lashing out verbally or outright fleeing the scene rather than talk about the crime she committed against her family.
soft-side; Dahlia isn't all thorns. Perhaps because of the loss of her own kits, she has a gentleness in her heart for younger cats. Granted, this often pushes her to give them 'advice' - ditch your mate, he's probably cheating. Trust no one. She doesn't truly desire to see anyone wounded as she was and she is disgusted by she-cats who abandon their kits and any cat that turns their back on their family, to the point of potential violence. Like anything about Dahlia, her moments of kindness are twisted - she will often force a cheating tom away from his family because it's better that they suffer the momentary pain of losing him rather than a lifetime of agony over his cheating.
HISTORY Dahlia was born in a litter of three at a bad time of year - just as the last leaf had fallen and the skies turned grey and heavy in anticipation of snowfall. By the time she opened her eyes, the litter had dwindled to one. Her mother, a sullen she-cat who had already reared several litters to adulthood and lost several more, never bothered to name her only surviving daughter nor even tell the young kit her own name. What was the use, she would often snap to the curious child, when it was unlikely that the pair would survive to see the spring? Often, her mother would loudly blame her daughter for their lack of food and shelter - saying that it would be easier to survive if she had only herself to worry about.
Her mother, at the very least, taught her how to hunt and fend for herself. Once she judged that the she-cat was capable of caring for herself, she simply walked off one day. The young cat was a mere eight moons old and attempted to follow her mother - only to receive a kick to the face and harsh words from the cat who had cared for her for her entire life.
She journeyed on her own for some time. She was a mere fourteen moons when she met the tom that would become her entire world - he was charming, smooth, and he was so handsome compared to the matted and poorly fed she-cat. His name was Don and he claimed to know all sorts of things about the clans and forest. Most of it was showboating. It still caught the attention of the young she-cat - especially when he offered to give her a name. None of the cats she had ever met had cared enough to name her. She had always just been a nameless loner to chase away.
He named her Dahlia.
They journeyed together for two moons before becoming mates. Dahlia fell pregnant. Her mate grew less interested in her rounded form and began to take to other she-cats, returning home to Dahlia with their scent on his fur.
The kits that came to them came too soon. They were tiny and breathless. Dahlia's heart broke. Don grew even more distant from her. She wasn't the same wide eyed she-cat. How could he love someone who had grown so bitter and hateful? Had she always been like this? He asked. Maybe it was better their kits had died, better that they had died and not been raised by someone so hateful.
So she killed him.
She didn't actually recall the moment when she lashed out at him. One moment they were talking and the next they were rolling about on the ground, her teeth on his throat. She came out of her anger to a dead tom and so she ran. She ran from her dead mate. She ran from her dead kits.
Straight into the territory of the clans. She's been skimming by the borders and poaching prey ever since.
OTHER anything else?
