- > the bronze
Though once with ragged, dirty fur, cut paws, and skeleton thin body, at entering the Divine Brotherhood Warfall was cleansed. She has a lean, though well fed, muscular body, and although almost short, equally strong legs. Atop an average-length neck is her face, shaped like a triangle, and yet, at the same time,
well-rounded.

- > soulful eyes
As it always is for the street dwellers, these two are eye-catching. A clear, bright blue, round and large. Along the very sides of these are thin maroon eyes, likening her eyes to nebula. And of course, every cat has that depth. But for Warfall, these eyes are even more special; holding the glimmer of frost, icy and somehow beautiful, like the afterlife itself..

- > painted paws
Short, yet thick white fur covers Warfall fully, from light pink nose to the tip of her long tall. Her paws are like boots, always covered faintly in the gray of charcoal and dirt. Her ears are a dulled yellowish-pinkish, and are completely hairless, for as a kit the were frostbitten and reaped of most life. Her paw-pads, despite the the dirt elsewhere on her feet, are completely clean and are coloured a light baby-pink.

- > délicatesse
A little, breakable, beautiful figure is the image of Warfall. And she is indeed breakable; not in body, but, however, in mind. She is like a ghost, walking so subtly in the background, yet her piercing eyes and kittenish, beautiful being capturing the attention of all around her.

- > the dark
Eccentric, bipolar, fierce, and icy, Warfall would make friends with no one. It started because no one would make friends with her. Emotionally stunted, grown to accept the idea that all her approach her intend harm, she has created a world full of malice and hate and sorrow that she can't get out of.
Occasionally, Warfall tries to socialize, but these situations end in a brawl. This temperament did not heal after death, as it would for some cats.

- > the light
But what if someone got past that barrier? What if someone showed her that not everything is cruel? If someone did just that- the impossible -Warfall is as beautiful as she looks. She is filled with emotions other then anger and distrust, waiting to be unlocked.
If someone was kind, caring, someone almost like a mother, Warfall would show her lighter side to them: gentle, kind, and full of feelings and stories to tell.

- > and in between
If this cat was cured of her lowly, dark, mental images that she had of others, she would make a good friend and loyal follower, sharp and cunning, fun, and above all, a great warrior.
Her sheer dislike of others meant that she always planed, planed death and vengeance. And those were general-quality plans...

-> young and naive
In the dark, cold winter, the beautiful queen Eve limped into the Monsoon Brotherhood's base, collapsed within, and passed on her beauty to four snow-white children; the birth of which nearly was the death of her.

Two of her children were toms, both deaf and at that particular discovery, discarded. Leaving two beautiful, fluffy, baby-blue eyed she-kits. War, apparently named after her father, and her even more beautiful sister, Ice.

Beauty, however, didn't happen to save the two siblings from the strict regimes of the Monsoon Brotherhood. Neither acted much like princesses, either.

But War's extensively more beautiful sister Ice was treated right from the start. She was treated like a kit, whereas War was treated like a solder. The little kitten steamed up over this; her ears had been bitten by frost during a premature "night watch", whilst Ice was cuddled in her mother Eve's warmth. It was said that this was because Ice was destined to be a queen, not a warrior.
When War bursted out over this, attacking her sister (but only with the force of a kitten), she was severely scolded by commander and mother alike. But at the same time, it was said that this meant even moreso she was destined to fight as a solder.

- > growing up
Now a novice along side her sister, War generally kept her words to herself in fear of grave punishment, but couldn't keep from occasionally bursting her top. When this happened, queens and veterans gossiped excessively, and it got around to other kits and novices, and before long, every cat at the Base distrusted War. And she didn't trust them.

And then, just as the winter snow began to melt, a nasty bit of greencough broke out among the camp. Veterans and weak kits were easily weeded out; queens were infected and their unborn kits disabled. And War caught it.

It was sort of a "kitty scarlet fever", really, if you will. War survived, as she would, but came out without something, something that would cap her emotions