A silver tabby tom with white paws and misty gray eyes.

Xx;; The eye is the jewel of the body

Dewstar’s eyes are almost considered misty. They are a light gray color, and, when looked at, some cats claim to see mist swirling in his orbs. They almost pick up a green color to them, because of the green specks in them. His eyes are always shining, and, always bright. Cats claim that when Dewstar is deep in thought, his eyes grow mistier, the gray color building up, seeming to make them unfocused, and they tend to look like approaching storm clouds. When he is in a relatively wonderful mood, which is really his only other mood, apart from his thoughts, his eyes become more green, and defined, hard to look away from.

Xx;; The smallest feline is a masterpiece

Dewstar has a lithe defined body. He has two white front paws, and a white underbelly. He definitely does not look like the giant he was when he was a kit, for his size caught up to his features as an apprentice. He has a clear white maw, and his has a silver, gray, and black striped body, the black stripes becoming more broad and more black as they reach the tip of his tail. The stripes along his neck are less noticeable and have a lighter color to them, than the ones near his flank, and streaming down to his tail. His ears are large, helping him with his tracking skills, and his paws small, allowing his steps to be light, and stealthy, helping him while in battle, and while hunting.

Xx;; He is a picture of grace

Dewstar, from birth, had been none other than a graceful cat. Every step he takes is one as if he is floating on nothing but air. His steps are always cautious, always careful, but quick, and silent, helping with his stealthy attacks. Even in battle, Dewstar’s moves of defense are those of grace, his rolls, and his blocks, ever his bites and swipes against enemies seem so carefully planned out, as if he’d been doing it for many more moons than his age allowed.

Xx;; He is a soul of joy

Dewstar has always been a cat of happiness. Yes, he has the strong mind of a warrior, fierce and quick thinking, and yet, his actions, and personality are that of an elder, not at all in a bad way. He is sweet tempered, even kind from the most annoying, to the most irritating, and ill-tempered cats. It was how he was raised. He has never been known to start a fight, never been known to make a cat upset, or angered, he is looked upon as the cat who always makes things right. Although, sometimes, that hardly ever realistic, but, he does try to help with complications within the clan, and within a cats’ temper. His patience is sometimes looked upon as a bad thing, irritating, but sometimes is known to calm an electric and tense situation.

Xx;; a beating heart and an angel's soul, covered in fur

Dewkit was the biggest of his litter. Most of the queens referred to him as the ‘gentle giant’ because he was such a large kit, with such a kind temper. He had two other littermates. Dewkit’s mother, Streampool, and father, Silvershadow, could sense good things from the kit, which didn’t get in trouble as much as his two littermates did. He never realized how important it was, that he wasn’t like his littermates. He was in the nursery, when his mother had asked him where his two littermates were. He knew, and he told her, he had never really lied a lot, and never to his mother. They had gone out to explore an abandoned fox den, near the entrance of camp. They used the hole in the wall of the nurseries brambles, to make their devilish escape. Obviously, his mother had rushed out, to go and search for them. No more than a few heartbeats later, he heard the muffled cry of his mother. He knew then, that his two littermates, his two best friends, were never coming back.

The six moons of his kithood seemed to pass ever so slowly. His mother eventually moved on with her life, and then, just like that, he was made Dewpaw. His mother moved on with her warrior duties, as did his father. His mentor was a young, kind she-cat, and she taught him well. He was told he was an excellent fighter, although he didn’t quite accept the fact, always wanting to improve, to become better, he was a quick thinker, his moves graceful. He made many friends, his kind personality, and upbeat attitude for everything he did, had helped, and guided him along the way.

In a few quick passing moons, his mentor had requested him to become a warrior. He was young, only 12 moons, but she felt he had the right attitude and all the skills to become a warrior. The leader accompanied her on his hunting test, and, of course, he caught only one thing. The leader had his ceremony postponed, until he felt his mentor had taught him the correct way to hunt, which, of course, she had, he was just nervous, and he felt guilt wash over him, for making his mentor look like a mouse-brain. He only tried harder, and she allowed some of the apprentices to look over Dewpaw while hunting, so he would rid of his nerves. It worked.

Two moons later, she felt it was safe to ask if Dewpaw could be a warrior again. The leader, once again, accompanied his mentor, although he was a little skittish this time, wondering if the tom would make the same mistake. He was 14 moons, no longer a large cat, his size catching up to him. He managed to catch four pieces of prey, enough to satisfy the leader, and then, he became Dewstream. His parents were both loyal to the clan, now in StarClan. He was always considered the quiet, friendly, thoughtful warrior of Zephyrclan. Wreathedstar had gone away and never came back, and with Titanheart, the previous deputy dead, Dewstream was them voted to be the best candidate for leader. He was named Dewstar.

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