RANK: Warrior

AFFILIATION: AspenClan

IMMEDIATE KIN:
Nimblestep (mate)
Pebblekit (daughter)
Ryethorn (daughter)
Tansyglow (daughter)
Thistlemoon (daughter)
Tumblefoot (son)
Twitchstep (son)
Wrenfall (daughter)
Swantail (mother)
Akai (father)
Petalkit (sister)
Imara (half-sister)
Ivorysky (half-sister)
Rippleflare (half-sister)
Sorrelfire (half-sister)
Thicketfrost (half-brother)

BASIC APPEARANCE: Ruddy tabby tom with icy-blue eyes.

DETAILED APPEARANCE: Sharp, cold blue eyes are the first noticeable attribute to this tabby tom, the one characteristic that has stayed true to him. What used to be well-toned muscles have become stiff with disuse, and short, neat fur has become unkempt. Deep brown tabby stripes covered and wrapped around the once warm, red-brown tone of his pelt that has since lost its luster.

PERSONALITY & DESCRIPTION: Trenchflame is a relentless, stony-cold cat that is merciless in almost every aspect of his being... at least he used to be. He has retained all but an echo of these traits, as his experiences have whittled him down into a skeleton of himself, literally and figuratively; he's been reduced to a mere shell buried in a mire that he's still trying to navigate many moons later. He was off to a rocky start in the beginning of his life with no known family to speak of, losing his mother and sister before he could properly remember them. Then his apprenticeship led to him growing close to Nimblestep, and what could have been a good thing turned inside out, and the two had kits before they were even proper warriors. His life seemed calmer from that point, and he settled into a routine until his kits became warriors. Just as a second litter of kits was on the way, Trenchflame learned that his father was an outsider, an outsider that wanted to do the clans harm. His life once again took a turn for the worst as he fell into the clutches of his father's claws and his clan was overrun and captured. AspenClan was eventually restored and freed, but from then on the ruddy tabby was not. His normal routine was gone forever, and his isolation and aloofness caged him from others more than he thought possible. Trenchflame was in this static state for several moons until a separate and isolated outsider attack killed his mate, the one cat he truly connected with. It was enough to cripple him completely, and he's lived until this day in near total recluse. In his mind, his life was never quite his—tragedy was a thief that clung to his shadow, and his fate was planned by his father before his life ever began. At what point then was his life even his? What was the point of living a life full of grief and destruction if he couldn't see the light at the end? Silence is all that's answered, so as his hope has drained to nothing, he's left with simply waiting for his end.