Marshfoot

**Marshfoot** is a black cat with pale green eyes.

**Marshfoot** was born as **Marshkit** to unknown parents.

## Appearance

A tall black molly with a sharp face accented by angular, pale green eyes. Her fur is long, forming a mane around her throat that, unlike some other long-furred Clanmates, doesn't appear at her cheeks. Her legs are long and dark, ending in proportional paws with soft fur growing long around her pads. Though somewhat unkempt, her fur is as water resistant as any of her Clanmates.

## Personality

Marshkit was born in a litter of two—half of a pair, two neat black kittens at their mother's belly. Both of them should have been loved entirely, unconditionally, but while Marshkit was large and healthy and vocal from birth, her brother was... not. It may sound strange for a litter of two to have a runt but, somehow, the kit's parents did and they were determined for both of their children to survive—because this litter was the first and last they would ever have before retiring to be elders.

It was a valiant effort on her parents' part, they poured days and nights into keeping her brother well—checking him, cleaning him, making sure he fed before Marshkit. He was still terribly small even as he grew, and he still got all of their parents' attention while Marshkit could be shooed away to play in camp with other kits. She really expected things to change when they were finally made apprentices. Marshpaw thought she would have more time with her parents, more time to make them proud. She worked hard to the point of her mentor ordering her to take a break, but even that didn’t draw their warmth, their pride; her parents still only had eyes for her brother, even taking his mentor aside to scold them for expecting so much of him.

It hurt. Rather badly.

It hurt more when, at ten moons old, her brother got sick; still so small, so frail, despite their parents’ efforts. The healers did their best, but it seemed that whatever was wrong couldn’t be fixed with herbs and, only days after he fell ill, her brother joined StarClan's ranks. Her parents were stricken, broken with grief, while Marshpaw felt sorrow for the closeness she never really got to have with her brother being impossible to reach for. Only after the vigil did her mother approach her, looking to comfort her daughter, to offer soothing words. Perhaps some observant warriors would have expected the way Marshpaw snapped, perhaps they would have noticed the sadness she carried watching her parents care so much for her littermate while never minding her, but camp still fell briefly silent under the cold ringing of her voice telling her mother to leave her alone.

That was when her reputation began; she was cold for rejecting the comfort of her grieving mother in the eyes of some, cruel for doing it so soon after the loss of her brother, but she didn't care. She still doesn't. Her parents have gone ignored by her since she earned her warrior name.

Whether she likes it or not, Marshfoot was shaped by the neglect of her parents. She's mature, independent, from the time she spent alone or with cats older than herself. It made her disinterested in the pranks typical of her Clan, instead pouring herself into duties and the warrior code. Plenty of harmless pranksters have been met with her low growling.

Marshfoot is blunt, very to the point, though it isn't meant to be unkind in most instances it has convinced some cats she's cold or harsh; an opinion she thinks is fair. She can't disagree. There are actually rather few Clanmates that she puts any thought into how they might perceive her, none of which are related to her, cats she may seek out for advice or a quiet meal together. Those are the cats that would know her deeper than the stern, gruff exterior she keeps up. The sort that she may have confided in, told about how all the work she puts in to herself and her status is to be worth the attention of those that matter to her—to be whatever her parents hoped for her brother to be.