Name: Merl
Gender: She-cat
Age: 90 moons
Rank: Elder
Personality: A no nonsense lady but a sweet one. She’s been through more than most anyone and knows it, so she won’t put up with anything from anyone. These days however Merl doesn’t have the same energy that she used to and prefers to lounge, worrying about her son.
Description: Raggedy is the first word that comes to mind with describing Merl. A fairly old cat, with a missing eye, and shredded right ear, and plenty of other tell tale scars of battle. Although not a husk, her frame is still relatively lean and if you were to pick her up you'd find her surprisingly light. However none of this dims the her tenacious energy. Though fond of naps these days, her tail is always flicking back and forth as though it has a life all its own. Despite her flaws Merl still seems like a cat you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of.
Backstory: Merl was born a kitty pet and lived that way for some odd 20 moons. For a kitty pet however, she was pretty fierce, and spent a lot of time outdoors. Many of her escapades found her returning with prey for her less hunting savvy two legs, though she received little thanks for it. One day however, after a particularly long foray into the surrounding woods, when Merl returned her family was nowhere to be found. Although she waited there for quite some time they did not return. Merl was forced to roam further and further into the woods for food, and even though she came back for weeks just in case they came back, they never did. Eventually she moved on.
Shortly she came upon a mewling kitty pet like herself, she could tell through the thorn bush it had been tossed in that it was in a two leg box. Merl wasn’t the only animal to notice its cries for help. Shortly after she arrived a weasel came onto the scene, but she could tell the weasel’s interest was less than benevolent. Unable to leave another cat alone like she had just been so abruptly left, she battled the tiny, but ferocious creature, for the right to the kitten. Although it cost her an eye, she won. An already difficult proposition, taking care of herself and a kit, was made more arduous.
That wouldn’t stop Merl though, and she raised the kit on her own as best she could, naming him Brambletail on account of his terribly messy tail. A missing eye and a mewling kit might have stopped some cats, but it didn't stop Merl. Her tough situation merely drove her to more intense efforts, more careful living, more extreme measures. The first days were the hardest, but as Brambletail and her both grew things became easier. Eventually one could say the two fell into a rhythm of sorts. It would be a lie to call their lifestyle luxurious or easy, but it was sufficient. Life carried on this way until the pair encountered a cat named Fernstar.
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shylarah
Alby47
