Mango The Calico by Belén Thomas, on Flickr

The Essentials
missing pieces of my skull

Name: Acaciapaw.
    Prefix Meaning: Acacia- for her blue patches like the silver bark of the tree and cream patches like the yellow flowers.
    Suffix Meaning: -paw for her current rank.
Sex: Female.
Age: 9 moons.
Sexuality: Unknown.
Rank: Apprentice.
Role: Cursed.
Adopt Thread: None.

The Body
i'll sew on patches of my own soul

Base Coat Color: Blue and cream.
Markings: Dilute tortoiseshell, over half white spotting.
Eye Color: Tarnished gold.
Body Size and Build: Small, frighteningly thin and kitten-like. 
Fur Length and Texture: Short and somewhat coarse.
Additional Physical Traits: Large eyes, long legs, small head, delicate muzzle.
Health and Scars: Unhealthy; very thin, low muscle mass, and weak. Lacks any large or noticeable scars, but is often covered in minor scratches, scrapes, and bruises.
Faceclaim: Mango.
Full Appearance Description: Acaciapaw has a beautiful coat, dappled with solid blue, cream tabby and with white splashing her undersides. But in the clan she was born into, her fur color is not a symbol of beauty it is a symbol of sin. The white shows the bad deeds her soul committed in her past lives, despite her having not done anything incredibly wrong in this one. Her short coat is strangely not very soft to the touch, but it shows off her markings and body shape well. Though her body shape is not a particularly healthy one, lack of food making her ribs, spine, and hips show and her waist is narrow. A lifetime of less food than what is needed has also stunted her growth, making her smaller than the average cat her age. Though she does stand somewhat tall, her long legs make her more petite size less pronounced. She may be described as kittenlike, with her large eyes and delicate facial features. Her eyes are a dark yellow-gold color, and have a rather dull look to them.
Genetics: Ll, RR, ReRe, lplp, whwh, BB, XOXo, dd, dmdm, aa, McMc, spsp, tata, bmbm, ii, wbwb, EE, CC, WsWs, acac, sfsf, JbJb, mm, mkmk, pdpd

The Identity
there's nothing you or i can do so let the stars fall

Positive Traits: Charismatic, dutiful, imaginative
Neutral Traits: Guileless, spirited, whimsical, untrusting
Negative Traits: Delicate, forgetful, opinionated

Loves: When she successfully makes a catch, her chosen family, sharing, stories, learning about herbs.
Likes: Repairing dens, crowds, anything that flies (especially insects), looking at water, coconuts.
Dislikes: Thinking about her birth family, interacting with non-cursed cats, scorpions, rain and the sound of moving water.
Hates: Being stared or yelled at, sneezing.
Fears: The death of more cats she cares about and being bit by a snake/spider or strung by a scorpion.
Secrets: She wants a change.
Dreams: Acaciapaw has no time to dream.

Strengths: Flexibility, smelling, hearing, speed
Normals: Hunting, eyesight, stealth, climbing
Weaknesses: Defense, swimming, jumping, attack

The Past
cause from up here the sky's my thoughts and we're all so small

    Nobody ever expects to give birth to a Cursed child. How could you? Acaciakit's parents were like nobody. They had a litter of dear little healthy kittens, yet ones coat was marred with the telltale white markings of a bad soul. They had brought a sinner into this world. That in and of itself was a sin, a punishment from the gods. Acaciakit's mother refused to name her child, and had to be asked by the leaders themselves to nurse her. She would have been perfectly fine letting her die, that kit was no child of hers. The only thing Acaciapaw really remembers about her time in the nursery was waking up and seeing her father crying. She knew better than to make herself known, even at that young age, and to this day she still wakes up sometimes and thinks she hears the sound of his quiet tears. She never did learn who he was crying for. Was it himself, or was it her?

    As soon as the kit reached two moons and was old enough to be weaned, she was given to the rest of the Cursed that resided in the clan. Acaciakit was expecting them to be scary, some kind of monstrous ghosts who would eat her up and leave not even her bones for the vultures. She was welcomed with open paws by a soft spoken tom and a kitten a moon or two older than her named Tumblekit. He was the caretaker of the kits, he explained, and then showed her his crippled limb. He couldn't hunt anymore, so he did his best to help. She and Tumblekit immediately had a bond. They didn't speak of their parents or their siblings and they didn't share blood yet they liked the same games and wondered the same things. They would often pretend to be birds, flying high over the desert or mice burrowing deep into the dry landscape. Anything other than what they really were.

    Acaciakit liked this family much better. Everyone was kind to each other, and helped the best that they could. They tried to make sure that the kittens didn't go hungry, and despite the lack of food Acaciakit's heart was always full enough to keep her happy. She hadn't had a family before them, or friends. She was't even given a name before she met them. Tumblekit had been dumbstruck. They had been given a name at least, but it had been changed when they were given to the Cursed. It had been too cruel. The Cursed rarely spoke of their birth names, and Acaciapaw was lucky not to have been given one. Their caretaker had suggested the name Acaciakit, for she was as bright as the little yellow sunlike flowers. She had loved it, so Acaciakit she became. She was no longer the poor cursed kitten, she had something to call herself by, a name to her name.

    Kithood breezed by, by the time she was six moons she was ready to officially start her training and leave camp. Weaker than the average trainee, but she already knew how to make a good pounce and help clear out a den. The Cursed started their young ones early, they didn't have any time to waste playing games. The kits never minded, everything was fun and thrilling to them. It wasn't a very big thing to be given a new name, she would have had to learn regardless of whether she was Acaciakit or Acaciapaw. But it was still exciting. Tumblepaw had earned their name before her, but they had come down with some kind of sickness that made them unable to hunt for very long. Nobody knew what it was, but everyone was worried and wanted to help. Acaciapaw was the most worried of all.

    Everyone thought being cursed meant you lost something. Acaciapaw didn't know what growing up as a normal clan cat was like, but she saw nothing wrong. The Cursed cats weren't the sinners, the bad souls, they were some of the kindest cats she'd ever met. All the 'walkers in the clan cast her ugly looks and could barely bear to speak a word to her. The other Cursed let it roll off their shoulders, it was just the way their life was. Acaciapaw didn't understand why she, and the rest of them, had to suffer for what they did in their past lives. They couldn't even remember what it was that that did, yet they had to pay for it every single day. Did that sound fair? She was no longer the carefree kitten that was blind to the gazes of the rest of the clan.

    When she was a kitten she sometimes would get looks of pity, but as soon as she was adult sized or close to it she was no longer exempt from the hatred. Tumblepaw got worse every day, and the reason they were so sick was because no one could ask for treatment. They were such a kind and gentle cat... if only everyone would see through the colors of Cursed's coats and take them for what they were instead of what they expected them to be. Acaciapaw was ready to ask the medicine cats for help, but the rest of the Cursed told her that she couldn't and it would just make everything worse. Still, she wanted to. She's been thinking of ways to help them but she's always too busy to act.

    The sandstorm came and went, Acaciapaw was sure that part of her soul died during that time. Part of the good part. Everyone was hungry, suffering even more than the 'walkers who had started out better fed. Rabbitpaw, the apprentice who always made time for them to play even after a long day of training had died. The molly who always told the best stories that you could see and feel and even taste, she was gone too. They were born in water and to water they went when they died, but their souls had had to wait before their bodies could be returned to the river. She just hoped that they had done enough in this life to be rewarded in the next. And she prayed that Tumblepaw wouldn't be the next to follow them.


Mango by Belén Thomas, on Flickr