Tangleloon

A curly coated chocolate point bicolor tom with pale green eyes

Tangleloon is a lean, fine boned tom of smaller stature, his frame wiry beneath the dense cascade of his long, curly fur. Though his pelt gives the illusion of plushness underneath lies a physique built for dexterity rather than strength. His limbs are slender, his shoulders narrow, and his ribs barely visible beneath the thick waves of his coat. His build makes him light on his paws, even if he sometimes can trip over his own paws (which each front paw bares an extra toe, making him polydactyl).

His fur, a testament to his LaPerm heritage, is a mass of unruly curls and waves, particularly thick around his chest, neck, and tail. A chocolate point bicolor smoke, his face, ears, legs, and tail are draped in deep, inky brown that fades into the pale, silver white misting of his undercoat with a long and feathered tail. As well as his point markings, he bares a white muzzle, chest and blaze with asymmetrical white socks on all of his legs.

His thin face is framed by curling whiskers and punctuate a pair of round, pale green eyes, with his right eye fixed at a slight asymmetrical dilation due to his injury as an apprentice. The back of his head is also scarred in two places from that same injury. When Tangleloon speaks, his voice is that of a tenor – slightly higher pitched.

Tangleloon is a creature of quirks, his moods shifting between bursts of manic enthusiasm and stretches of near boneless lethargy. Some days, he’s a whirlwind of energy, rattling off strange theories. Other times, he lounges in dark patch in his nest like a cat shaped puddle, half mumbled musings about clouds, dreams, or the meaning behind life to keep the migraines at bay. He believes his oddness is part of his charm, although he thinks his thoughts to be harmless and doesn’t hold himself so seriously.

Tangleloon is a paradox of pride and indulgence, a cat who revels in the comforts of elderhood while stubbornly resisting the limits of his new title. He adores being pampered and stretches out like a spoiled kit when the apprentices groom ticks or debris from his long, curly fur, basking in the warmth of freshly changed moss, and smugly accepting the best pieces of prey without shame. Yet, beneath this love for being doted on, there lingers an unshakable restlessness. He can’t bring himself to fully settle into the life of an elder, using any excuse to slip out of camp. While his seizures have slowed him down – and sometimes his migraines keep him in his nest all day – they haven’t dulled his spirit.

There’s an underlying guilt that gnaws at him, though he rarely voices it outright. Tangleloon knows he hasn’t earned his place in the elders’ den the same way his denmates have. He hasn’t fought in hardly any skirmishes, hasn’t seen as many leaf-bares and hasn’t persevered into his old age. Some days he feels like an imposter among them, like a young warrior sneaking into a den where he doesn’t belong. He often catches himself acting more like an apprentice than an elder – challenging his denmates to minor feats of physical and mental challenges, encouraging connections or rivalries, or playfully goading others in the clan into sparring matches just to feel like he’s still part of the action.

Despite his mixed feelings, Tangleloon refuses to let his doubts rule him. If he’s going to be an elder, he’ll be the liveliest one RiverClan has ever seen. He doesn’t just want to exist in the elders’ den – he wants to make it a place that feels just as alive as the rest of camp. Beneath the reckless heart of an apprentice seemingly stuck through time, Tangleloon is still a cat chasing his own tail, not ready to let go of the feeling that he still has something left to give.

• Born in the Moon of Melting Waters (2019) 118

[Kitten 0-5 Moons]

Tangleloon was born first out of two kits to Doubleclaw, and sire, Fogdrift, a pair of cats who shared a passion for RiverClan. From the moment he opened his eyes, he was a peculiar thing: a small, curly furred ball of energy with a tendency to wander too far, ask strange questions, and get caught up in his own little world.

His mother, Doubleclaw, was a firm but fair queen, indulging his oddities while making sure he knew how to keep his paws grounded. His father, Fogdrift, was more distant – not unkind, but quiet, watchful, and perhaps a little unsure of what to make of his unusual son.

Even as a kit, he adored attention – whether it was from his mother or visitors to the den, he thrived under the care and praise of others. He was especially drawn to the elders’ den, where he would sit for hours, hiding away from the nursery den in favor of a good story.

[Apprentice 6-14 Moons]

Tanglepaw’s apprenticeship was a sharp shift from his kithood, where his oddities had been indulged or met with mild amusement. His mentor, Stoneclaw, was a strict and unyielding warrior who had little patience for the young tom’s quirks. To Stoneclaw, discipline, strength, and unwavering adherence to the warrior code were everything, and he expected nothing less than perfection from his apprentice. Unfortunately for Tanglepaw, perfection was hardly within reach.

From the start, the two clashed. Stoneclaw saw Tanglepaw’s tendency to get distracted, his rambling musings, and his inconsistent bursts of energy as signs of carelessness. He pushed him hard determined to mold him into a proper warrior. Tanglepaw, in turn, grew to resent his mentor’s rigid nature, feeling like nothing he did was ever good enough. No matter how hard he tried, Stoneclaw always demanded more, never offering the warmth or encouragement that Tanglepaw thrived on. It was exhausting but he was determined to prove he could meet the expectations placed on him.

At 10 moons old, Tanglepaw’s life took a sudden, irreversible turn. During a particularly grueling training session at the gorge, Stoneclaw had been pushing him past his limits, drilling him on balance and footwork along the rocky edges. It had been a harsh leaf bare, and the stones were slick with moisture. Tanglepaw’s footing failed him. He slipped. The fall wasn’t long, but it was enough. His head struck the jagged rocks before he tumbled into the freezing water below.

By the time they dragged him out, he was bleeding badly, his head wound deep and his consciousness flickering. The medicine cat worked tirelessly to treat him, but an infection soon followed, and with it came something far worse – a seizure. It was the first of many.

His recovery was slow and uncertain. For a full moon, he remained in the medicine den, his body weak, his mind hazy, and his future unclear. The seizures came unpredictably, throwing his body into fits, some mild, others not, that left him exhausted and confused afterward. When he was finally allowed to move again, it was only for light work. The medicine cat was cautious, hesitant to clear him for full duties, fearing that a sudden seizure could put him or others in danger.

Tanglepaw chafed under the restrictions, but worse than that was the way his accident had changed things. He had always thought he was different, but now he was fragile. Though he resented his mentor before, now that resentment festered into something bitter. He blamed Stoneclaw for pushing him too hard, for putting him in a position where he could fall. Their training became strained, filled with quiet tension and unspoken frustrations.

Though his road to recovery was long, he managed to complete his training, earning his warrior name, Tangleloon, at 14 moons old. It was meant to be a moment of triumph, but as he stood before his Clan that night, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed forever.

[Warrior 15-22 Moons]

By the time he reached his warrior moons, he had learned to anticipate the signs of an impending seizure: an overwhelming fatigue, a heavy fog settling over his mind, or a migraine gnawing at his skull. These warning signs gave him some measure of control, allowing him to gauge when a day would be safe for normal duties or when he should be cautious. The seizures became milder, less frequent, but the persistent headaches never truly left him.

With time, he grew into his role as a warrior. His youthful recklessness was tempered by experience, his once boundless energy a little more measured, a little more mindful. He still chattered with bursts of enthusiasm, his tendency to space out mid-conversation – but he was a capable warrior when his body allowed him to be. He hunted, patrolled, and trained with his clanmates.

But no amount of caution could change the fact that he was living with something unpredictable.

At 22 moons, during a routine patrol with Cottonbright, the two sought to avoid a group of Twolegs near Fourtrees. They had been careful, but then it happened – Tangleloon’s body betrayed him. Without warning, a seizure struck, sending him collapsing into the forest floor, his limbs jerking violently. The commotion drew attention.

Cottonbright was quick to react, attempting to pull him out of sight, but the Twolegs had already noticed the movement in the bushes. As she fled back toward safety they closed in their strange hands reaching toward the trembling tom. By the time the seizure passed, Tangleloon was being lifted, cradled in strange arms, his vision hazy and his thoughts scattered.

The experience was terrifying. Though the Twolegs seemed more curious than harmful, their strange scents, their odd vocalizations, and the alien world beyond the trees filled him with panic. He struggled at first, but exhaustion left him weak. Eventually his struggles caused him to drop from the human’s arms.

Disoriented and frightened, he stumbled back toward camp, his mind racing with the worst possible thought. They had taken Cottonbright! His fear drove him faster, half tripping over his own paws as he pushed through the reeds and into camp, gasping out his concerns. It was only when he saw her that he finally exhaled, his body sagged with relief.

But the event shook him. His unreliable body had drawn danger too close. Warriors had to be dependable – and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t change what had happened.

[Elder 23- Moons]

Fear gnawed at the tom in the days following the incident. He had always known his condition was a burden, but now, it had become a danger – not just to himself, but to his Clanmates. The idea of another patrol being compromised, another warrior being put at risk because of him, was unbearable. He wrestled with the decision for nights, pacing the riverbanks, his normally scattered thoughts focused on one grim reality: he wasn’t fit to be a warrior.

So, at 23 moons, he sought out the medicine cat, speaking his concerns aloud for the first time. And so, on the 20th day of Leopard’s Rest, 2020, Tangleloon was formally retired to the elders’ den.

But retirement didn’t mean slowing down.

Some days, he still felt like an apprentice at heart, itching to do something, anything besides laze around and swap stories. So he found excuses – his nest needed fresh moss, the elders deserved better prey, he needed to stretch his legs…and took any opportunity to leave camp, even if just for a short hunt.

Tangleloon would make it his mission to keep the elders feeling young, wanted, and cared for.

• No threads have been recorded.

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS

Wolfcry  – A silver, blue broken mackerel and white tabby with yellow eyes

Jinkz – A longhaired, fawn point LaPerm with a curly coat and blue eyes

MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS:

Juniperbelly – A boxy, blue tortie and white she-cat with a cream blaze, scarred stomach & blue eyes.

Cranewing – A slender, chocolate point tom with pale green eyes.

PATERNAL GREAT AUNT

Cinderwhisper – An angular, silver mackerel tabby she-cat with hazel eyes and a slim build.

MATERNAL AUNT

Firelight – A longhaired classic torbie she-cat with a bald spot on her tail.

MATERNAL COUSIN

Coldgaze – A longhaired, chocolate classic tabby tom with nicked ears and odd eyes.

Splashpelt – A large, square chested chocolate classic tabby tom.

Strike-Addled.

Got permission from Bee, Clover, and Rage for relations.