Read the Biography in the Notes below! I I I I I V
It was a warm New-Leaf day as the large white monster roared down the Blackpath. Within its belly lay sacks of Twoleg items, as well as a stack of wire cages that contained various animals of all ages, species, and sizes. A few cried, some whined, and others screeched in defiance of the given circumstances. In the cage at the top of the stack sat a young she-cat who kept her head down and made no sound. Clover was once the beloved kittypet of an elderly Twoleg known as Mrs. Stone. The cat had lived in comfort for as long as she could remember, and never suspected that her lifestyle would be so easily shattered. The first sign was when Clover woke up to an empty food bowl. Mrs. Stone had never been one to sleep in. She was a cheerful old Twoleg who was early to bed and early to rise, even if she seemed to be moving slower and slower each day. When Clover went upstairs to investigate, she found the bedroom door closed. No matter how loudly she called to Mrs. Stone, there was no response. With all the windows and doors locked, Clover had no way of leaving the house. She still held onto the hope that Mrs. Stone hadn't forgotten her. After two days, Clover was so famished that she ate the two goldfish in the living room, knowing that Mrs. Stone would surely punish her when she emerged from her room. As the hours passed, the small glimmer of hope in Clover's chest diminished. In the dead of night on the third day, an intruder shattered one of the back windows and climbed into the house. Despite being hungry and weary from exhaustion, Clover hissed at him, prepared to protect her home and owner. The Twoleg, who wore all black coverings, stared down at the cat before kicking her in the side of the head, instantly knocking Clover unconscious. When she next awoke, Clover found that her collar was gone and her head was aching. Her ears were bombarded with the voices of animals in many languages, but none of which she understood. Never before had she longed so much to be stroked on her belly or told that she was a good kitty. These were the thoughts that stormed Clover's mind as she sat in her cage. Her stupor was broken, however, by the sudden, jarring swerve of the white monster. This consequently sent the stack of animals tumbling down and multiplied the cacophony tenfold. Clover, whose cage was highest, felt herself fly across the dark space and through the slightly unlocked doors at the rear of the beast. The darkness of the monster's interior gave way to the blinding light of the sun, and Clover's cage tumbled over and over before coming to a stop on the Blackpath. Through her blurry vision, she watched the white beast roar away without her. Despite her many bruises and cuts, Clover found herself sighing in relief. Only then did she realize her new predicament. If another monster were to drive down the same path, she would be crushed and killed in the most painful way imaginable. At the thought of her own demise, she began to call out for someone, anyone, to help her. Within minutes, the scent of another cat drifted her way, and Clover turned to see a black cat with green eyes, much like her own. He bolted up to her cage, a worried expression on his face. "H-hey, are you alright?" the black tom asked hesitantly. Clover, too happy and hurt to form a coherent response, blubbered joyfully while tears streaked down her face. The tomcat looked surprised at her injuries and emotional instability, but nonetheless spoke calmly to her. "Don't worry, I'll get you off the Blackpath and then find a way to get you out of this Twoleg trap to treat your wounds. Is that okay?" Clover nodded excitedly. Seeing this, the tom grabbed one of the bars and began dragging the cage across the Blackpath until they reached the grass on the other side. Using a large rock, the black cat then loosened the locking mechanism keeping Clover in the cage. Once she was free, the she-cat fell to the ground and curled up in the grass. She paid no mind as the tomcat left briefly and returned with various herbs and flowers. Clover was too caught up in reveling in her newfound freedom to care that he was chewing some of the plants up and spitting them back out. The tomcat approached Clover with the herbs and spoke softly. "This might...sting a little. But I assure you I know what I'm doing, being a medicine cat and all." Before Clover could ask what he was talking about, a sharp pain spiked in her shoulder as the tom pressed some poultice into it. She winced as he rubbed more of the substance in the other cuts on her face, legs, and back. Perhaps in an attempt to distract his patient from the pain, the tomcat struck up a conversation. "My name is Blackwillow, IceClan's medicine cat. Who might you be?" She responded with a small smile. "I'm Clover Stone." After a brief pause, she added, "What is...IceClan?"
