Another idea! It's how Tigerstar's known kin feels about him. The first is his father, whom I think is Gorseclaw from Firestar's Quest, and from there it goes down by age, ending with one of his kits. Oh yeah, if you read to the end, tell me who speaks in each paragraph, in order (not counting the first!) It's really easy though.
Disclaimer: I wish.
Ashamed...
I died soon after my son's warrior ceremony, a carbon copy of myself, pride and ambition etched in his face. Is that good or bad? I am glad that I wasn't there physically when his ambition near destroyed the forest, but I did not live long enough to teach him wrong from right. I was shattered. I might as well have died one hundred times over again. Why did I ever consent to giving him his first life as a leader, and in doing so, forced the other cats to follow suit? Perhaps I'd thought that he would change with new responsibility and a new life. Deep down, I realized that that would never dome to pass. But aren't parents determined to bring out the good in their children, don't they brush away any sign of something wrong? I am no exception...I've never been more ashamed of anyone...and I shudder every time I hear his name: Tigerstar.
Betrayed...
He loved me, and I him. He was an eager apprentice trying to get the better of everyone. He succeeded with me. He yearned to impress everyone and he impressed me. He promised to love me, to care for me, to never let me go alone anywhere. But his treachery shattered me, and when he tried to get cats to follow him into exile, he looked at me. Those burning amber eyes that had captivated me for so long held my own green ones seemed to ask me a single question, though he didn't voice it. I looked away. Follow him into exile? No. I couldn't. I had been betrayed, and it seemed unlikely that the wounds caused by Tigerstar would ever heal.
Nothing...
I met him while he was recruiting cats for some rogue band to avenge some clan or something, and he asked me to join. Well, why not? A rogue like me has nothing better to do than terrify kittypets and scavenge some rotten carrion to eat. So I joined...and I fell in love with Tigerstar. Even after I learned about his dark past, I couldn't help myself. I was head over tail in love, and it wasn't likely that I'd ever come untangled again. I defended his reputation against everyone else. I looked at him with admiring eyes. He said he loved me, he said he cared about me. His honey-soaked lies soothed me, and soon I was carrying his kits. That must have been the stupidest mistake anyone could ever do. He cast me aside right after I'd been deemed pregnant, sneering at me, abusing me. How could I have been so blind to the faults I knew were in him? What was I to him? Was I simply a nothing, being used to further his bloodline?
Falling...
From the time that I could see, the second emotion seen in the eyes was mistrust from almost every cat. The first was love: from my mother and my sister only. What did I care about the world at that age? Nothing. All I wanted was to play with my equally brave and frisky sister; everything else - hunting, fighting, defending - fell to the paws of the admirable warriors that guarded the camp with constant vigilance, every sense alert and every muscle tense, ready to spring and slash ferociously at invaders. Yet something was missing. The cold disdain from every other cat burned deeply within my immature heart, and I questioned my mother frequently. Nothing was said, only that they were jealous of the fact that me and my sister would grow to be fine warriors. And then another thing popped up in my constantly wandering mind about my father; who was he? Where was he? What was he like? I only found out my second day of apprenticeship, when my mentor revealed the truth about the name I'd often heard that was always sounded with hatred and fear. When Fireheart revealed the horrible truths about Tigerstar, the figure I had met one day during my kithood. And then came the fateful day when I first laid eyes, set paw in the Place of No Stars. I was falling, falling in a trap of lies...
Scorned...
My brother's mentor looked almost scared when he saw us with Darkstripe by our father. Why should he? Clan deputy, effectively leader - he had nothing to fear. Yet when he told us of our father's treachery, I guessed he'd been afraid of the massive tabby's thirst for blood and power. No, not blood - just power; our father would fight the swiftest, most dangerous, widest, rockiest rapids just to accomplish his goals. And this dark past was reflected on two innocent apprentices who had no knowledge of the real world and its dangers: me and my brother. Why should we carry the burden of his murders just because we were his kits? It would be just as easy to scorn his mate, my mother, for agreeing to carry on his bloodline, for raising two potential little Tigerstars. But she was a noble, respected warrior, and no one would ever dare glare upon her golden pelt. What about our grandparents, his parents? They harboured a cold-blooded murderer, but because they are long-dead and in the noble ranks of StarClan, they could not insult the deceased. And so, they took out their fury at the only cats they could. You guessed it: his two kits. The day Smallear compared me to my father made me feel so alone that I had to leave. I joined my father...but even in death my blood has made me scorned even by the most noble warriors.
Tricked...
My father died when I was very, very young, still a kit. I don't really remember anything more than the fact that I was born into a time of terror and whispers, when no one felt confident in themselves. And then, suddenly, it seemed as if everyone relaxed, the tension dissolved into thin air, and things went much more light-hearted than what I was used to. Of course, nothing really mattered to me, since I was still very young. When I became an apprentice, the elders told stories of how the evil Tigerstar brought a huge clan of vicious rogues to gain power throughout the whole forest. How admirable! Of course, he'd died and everything went back to normal. But when I heard that he was my father, I was not horrified. Instead I set my eyes on the place where it was said that the Bonehill had been built, and I imagined myself, a full-grown warrior standing atop a massive hill of bones, watching the other clans - soon to be one, under my control - obey my orders. It was an inspirational sight, and I worked toward my goal, slowly but surely, and unobtrusively. No cat could know of my plans to continue what my father had started. This time, I would succeed. And when I met my father in dreams, I knew that I would not fail. He could lead me to power, he could train me! And I would have been helped by my half-brother, but he had to go and be chicken, backing out at the most vital moment. And then he killed me. When I arrived, my full soul, at the place where I had fought and trained many times, I expected a warm welcome from my father. Instead, he lashed out, screaming about how I had ruined his cahnces for power. His chances? What about mine? This led to a huge brawl, but even though I acted as though I had given in and accepted his desire for the control he had lost, I was seething. I had been tricked by my own father! Revenge will be mine, someday, somehow...
Shadowed...
I never knew my father. For that, I am grateful. Grateful that he could not see how I had failed to continue my journey as a noble warrior, instead turning my interests to the task of healing and dreaming. How I had failed to become a proper medicine cat, and how, most of all, I had been betrayed by my brother. Hawkfrost is a good warrior, yet ambition drove him to make me a fake. To make his own sister a medicine cat would be to ensure his own power: by blackmail and manipulation, he could be sure that I would support his evil mind. For what else could I do? My clan hated me enough as it was, but to reveal that I, their medicine cat, did not believe in StarClan and had not been properly accepted, would be suicidal. All those times that my brother stood up for me, cared for me, was nothing more than to place me in his debt. What about my half-siblings? I know my sister barely acknowledges me beyond the RiverClan medicine cat, but she is a good, loyal warrior and cannot afford to make ties with that of an enemy clan. My other brother realizes that Hawkfrost is his kin, but not me. I know it. All three are strong warriors, prehaps the strongest in their clans. Living in their footsteps makes me alone. Even worse is the fact that my father is Tigerstar, a blood-thristy tyrant. I live, shadowed, by everyone around me, and I can't break free of this shell.
Eh, so it wasn't my best work. It kinda sucked. Oh well. Happy New Year everybody!
Review!! ...Please?
--Cloudy