Clan:
StormClan

Name:
Dustfoot

Rank:
Elder

Gender:
Tom

Moons of Age:
68

Relatives:
Junipertail (Deceased, Mother), Waspclaw (Father, Deceased), Earthpelt (Brother, littermate), Silentbane (Brother), Oakleaf (Brother), Latestar (Sister), Mossheart (Mate), Autumnbreeze (Son, deceased), Duskcloud (Daughter), Darktrace (Neice)

Short Description:
An irritable, dusky brown tabby tom with hazy yellow eyes.

Description:
This Elder sports a dusky, thinning pelt, a silvered muzzle, and a pair of misting yellow eyes. His fur was once his pride and joy; now, it hangs limply from his thin ribs, in lanky mats of dusty brown. Dustfoot's markings are no longer the prominent, sharp brown they once were, and are beginning to fade like autumn leaves.
His sharp face and harsh temper have been known to scare many unfortunate kits, but underneath the rough exterior, he's a bit of a softy.
Around the tom's face, lines are becoming apparent, and his muzzle is fiercely dusted with grey and silver hairs. His ear, once proud and straight, has begun to droop a little; its rounded tips sag with the tiredness of many, many moons.

As in his youth, however, Dustfoot has managed to retain most (if not all) of his teeth, and though they are very worn, he hasn't stooped to letting another cat chew his meals for him.

Personality:
Dustfoot would be best described as... proud. He won't take nonsense from anyone, and if you anger him, or injure his pride, you'd better be ready for the worst tongue-lashing you've ever had. His age has earned him some small amount of lee-way in the Clan, and he uses this to his advantage whenever possible.

If you've ever been sent to the Elders' den to do clean-up duty there, expect to have Dustfoot criticising your every move. Everything must be perfect. And because he's got nothing else to supervise, he'll more than likely take the moss, or the bile, and do the job for you, to show you how it's done. He's never been afraid to get dirty, unless his pride forbids him.

Earning his trust is no trip down easy street. First, you've got to prove to him that you can fight. Any cat who can't claw his way out of a tough situation is never going to get anything more than a sharp look out of him. And there is a whole lot more under that prickly exterior than meets the eye.
If you earn Dustfoot's trust, or even, FreeClan preserve us, his friendship, then you'll notice subtle differences in his behaviour. He might offer to help, instead of taking the moss from you with a gruff "No, this is how it's done." He'll regale you, if you so choose, with a few stories from the 'olden days', not the least of which includes when Greysteel was leading StormClan. The Elder doesn't exactly approve of his leader's 'antics' nearing his end ("Trying to take over another Clan, huh. Completely against the code!"), but he will tell you that Greysteel was the finest leader he'd ever seen.


History:
(Long, long ago...) Dustkit was born in a litter of two, to Junipertail and Waspclaw. His parents were, naturally, very proud of their young kits; their first litter together, and a symbol of their love. Junipertail took the best care of the kits that she could, slowly learning their traits and habits. She was a little impatient with them; always encouraging them, always pushing them to walk taller, jump higher, than the other kits. She preferred walking around the camp, with her kits in tow, than letting them idle away in the den.

Soon enough, Earthkit and Dustkit were apprenticed. Unlike most mothers, Junipertail allowed her kits to present themselves however they chose. Dustkit was so excited that he forgot to groom himself at all!
Their parents watched on with pride, as their leader Hawkear apprenticed them. Dustpaw's mentor was called Gorseclaw, a fiercely proud fighter who, like his mother, was determined to push the kit as far and fast as he could.
Dawn patrols, midnight patrols, hunting patrols... They all began straight away. Every day, there was some task for the cub to do; cleaning the Elders' bedding, learning to hunt squirrels, practising the latest fighting moves. Every night, Dustpaw went to sleep so tired he could barely see his brother, sleeping next to him.

His mother soon had new kits to show them, but Dustpaw never got much of a chance to see them. Training took first place. Silentkit, Oakkit and Latekit had to wait until his mentor could give him a day off.
He fell in love with his little siblings; they were so cute! But he really longed for the day when he could show them around the apprentices' den, or playfight with them.

But Dustpaw was proud; however much he enjoyed playing with his brother, however much he laughed with the other cubs, training came first. He always made himself do the best he could, because he couldn't stand to see Gorseclaw disappointed in him.

The moons passed. Silentpaw, Oakpaw and Latepaw were named. Hawkear passed into the paws of FreeClan, and Greysteel became leader, appointing Jadeheart as his deputy. Dustpaw, with pride in his heart, finished his training a moon earlier than his brother, and received the fighter name of Duststorm.
Gorseclaw was very proud; Duststorm had been his last cub, and he retired to the Elders' den.

Little of interest happened. Duststorm got his first apprentice, Bramblepaw. He trained him (and trained him well!) His younger siblings became fighters.
He found true love in a she-cat named Mossheart. Until Greysteel began to get angry with FireClan, things in StormClan had been going very well for the tom.
But Duststorm immediately took the fore; taking patrols around the FireClan border, helping out wherever he could. Always making time for Mossheart, but never letting up.
He understood the need to obey his leader, though he didn't approve of why. Jadeheart drowned after losing her footing in a river-side fight, and to everyone's surprise, the new member of the Clan, Murtagh, was appointed deputy.
Duststorm was more interested in Mossheart than the deputy; she had had a litter of their kits. "Beautiful," he proclaimed, between licking the top of her head, and licking their new kittens. He cared for his mate; cared for his kits, too. His brother Earthpelt and his mate had a kit of their own, named Darkkit. She was beautiful... But Duststorm insisted, privately, to Mossheart, that Autumnkit and Duskkit were by far the most beautiful. "But do you know who's more beautiful than them?" The tom would smile. "Why, I'd be surprised if you can't guess..."

And when his kits, his beautiful kits, where made fighters, Greysteel gave the order to attack.
The attack was as brutal as he had imagined. His training didn't prepare him for such anger; every able-bodied FireClan cat was fighting tooth and nail. He didn't want to, but he forced himself on, knocking as many cats out of the fray as he could... But a calico got a lucky swipe in, and the tom went down, blood running from his missing ear and a sharp cut above his eye.
There were numerous other injuries of course; it felt like every bone in his body was broken, and he wasn't exactly a young cat during that fight. But just as he was about to limp to the Seer, he saw the huge boulder rolled down the hill, gaining momentum as it went... And the BloodPack leader leaped out of the way, exposing Greysteel behind him.
Everything was confusion. Greysteel wasn't the only one to have been crushed or injured by the rock; StormClan and FireClan both suffered from that loss. And of course, BloodPack had a few casualties, but they slunk away to lick their wounds.
Duststorm looked up to the hill where the boulder had been. Saw the StormClan leader, just as others followed his gaze, and howled in hatred. Murtagh's voice was loudest of all.

They carried the broken body of Greysteel home, and buried him with a simple ceremony. Murtagh got over the death of his leader rather quickly. Two days later, he took a patrol and headed for Tallplace, returning as a leader.

The only cat Duststorm was sorry for was the only one he lost. Autumnbreeze, his wonderful son... Murtagh becoming a leader just ground salt into the wound. He had been too young to fight! Why hadn't Greysteel seen that?!
For moons afterwards, Mossheart and Duststorm quietly mourned their kit.

Six moons later, he went back again. No-cat knew why. And then, after the sun had set and risen again, Dreamstar went to Tallplace, and found him dead.

Duststorm couldn't say he was sorry when Murtagh died, but he kept his mouth shut, opening it only to pretend to mourn the death of a blood-thirsty leader. His kits, and his mate, and made him see that some things were more important than territory or power.

He's been an Elder ever since Murtagh's death; it was Murtagh who had (reluctant to lose a fighter) made him an elder.

Other: Dustfoot is going blind; he cannot see very clearly, and relies heavily on scent to get around.