Icestar is a very large cat; his size often dwarfs the average sized tom, and some might think this might make the cat self-consious. But this tom almost never thinks about himself, its all about others.
His body is, well, huge; his shoulders and haunches are massive and thickly muscled, making him a very strong and intimidating cat in battle. His legs look like they should belong to a WindClan cat, for they are long and lean, with gigantic paws that thump the ground heavily just when at a walking pace. The male's head is large, with a smooth forehead, very chiseled jaw, and his muzzle is slightly too long to be called perfect. His optics are an icy cobalt blue, and are more often than not warmly glowing at a clanmate.
Thick, silver-grey fur covers the tom's entire body, from his long, thick tail, all the way up to his pink-skinned nose. In the daylight, Icestar looks almost completely white, though his coat is often splotched with mud and dirt from an outing into the territories. In the shadows of the night, the fur turns to a silver-blue hue, making him look like a piece of the moon from the heavens.
Overall, he's a very handsome cat, but a lethal killer when the heat of battle flares within.

Ice; when explaining a personality, it means cold-hearted, snappy, and generally someone who is not favored by many, someone who has no passion or respect for anyone but themselves. Well the people who think that are quite mistaken. Never judge a cat by it's name, no matter how fearful or mean it may sound. In this case, 'Icestar' is but a name, belonging to one of the most fair, just cats you could ever set eyes on.
If you ever came across this feline on a day of a fierce windstorm, complete with sleet and rain, what would your eyes see? Let me paint you the following visual picture in that mind's eye of yours. A small, yet determined smile would be spread across his strong jaw, a beam of sunlight to the soul, shining clear and bright against the dark clouds and pelting rain. Muscles and huge paws would be helping to repair anything that needed to be, and herding bouncy kits back toward their mothers in the nursery. The camp would be clear of any other cat, even the strongest warrior would be snug in its den before this tom would even think about heading into cover. Not a friendly soul has been insulted or abused by Icestar, only treated with respect, and if something they are doing is wrong, a stern reminder is what they receive. He respects and values all cats, and would most certainly put himself in the winding, dark path of death and destruction to save anycat from his clan. In battle, the RiverClan leader is a skilled and cunning fighter, yet only killing if need be. Strategic fighting moves can confuse even the most experienced fighter, and swift strikes can cut down an enemy like a beaver to a tree. In the heat of war, Icestar doesn't see red pulsing through his vision, making him insane with deadly strength and power, but is always level-headed, thinking a move ahead of the rest. Battles aren't something that this tom would like to do regularly, but if he is sure that the opposing cats, or something else, are a threat to himself and the clan, then he will leap at them without hesitation.
Loyal to the death to the clan and the cats within it, Icestar rules gently yet firmly with a strong, supportive smile.

-Icekit-
As a kitten, this tom was often made fun of because of his colossal size, and awkwardly large paws. Most other kits just teased him once, then forgot about it, but there were some bullies who were very persistent. They would pester and humiliate him any chance they got, and sometimes send him crying to the furthest corner of the nursery. For all these reasons, Icekit was very timid, and didn't dare join in with the play fights when the bullies were around. He did get in some practice with his few friends, so he wouldn't be completely hopeless as an apprentice.

-Icepaw-
When the male became an apprentice, his body started to even out, and soon his large paws and long legs matched the size of the rest of his body. His mentor's name was Mistwind, and was a very patient and calm tom. Icepaw took on many personality traits from his mentor, and perhaps that's why he's so driven and gentle today.
But, the bullies continued to mock him, and one day it drove him over the edge. A fight broke out between Icepaw and the head bully, and thanks to his size, our boy came out on top. From then on, the apprentice was respected by almost any cat.

-Iceheart-
Icepaw became Iceheart at twelve moons, and was made deputy at twenty-six moons. He helped the RiverClan leader rule the clan well, and was always looking for an excuse to help others.

-Icestar-
On the silver tom's twenty-nineth moon of life, the resident leader of his clan passed into StarClan's paws, his nine lives spent. Icestar traveled to the Moonpool to receive his nine lives, and returned as leader of RiverClan.

The morning was a fine one. Silver tinted mist drifted upon the wet bogs, mingling with sloping shafts of sunbeam across leafy boughs of bushes, grasses, and the occasional small tree. Soft mosses, short grass and variegated flowers carpeted the ground, broken here and there by beds of fern and flowering nettles. The sun cast cloud shadows on the ground and across the greenery of the marshlands, fleecy clouds scudded across the sky on a warm, wafting breeze. The days of green-leaf were numbered now. The warm, soft air was starting to grow a bit of a crisp chill to it, and some leaves were already beginning to turn from all shades of green, to a brilliant display of golds, reds, oranges; a simple bush would turn into what seemed like a marvelous flame, edges of the fire licking this way and that in the wind. The scurrying bodies of the prey would start to slowly shut down, and they would crawl into a hole and sleep out the harshest of leaf-bare. Kits would have to be looked after even more carefully, for when exposed to the cold, it could be the start to a slow, painful death of freezing. To help prevent that from occurring, the Medicine Cats should be gathering up herbs while they still can; they needed to be prepared for the worst to happen, leaf-bare is a tricky season to deal with.
All of these thoughts and fears raced swiftly through Icestar's mind, and he tried to wrap his brain around them all, which wasn't an easy task. He had started to wander through RiverClan's territory, over hills and beside the river, around tree and bush, until he finally stopped at the crashing waterfalls. Wide, icy blue eyes narrowed to worried slits, this had brought about a whole new world of problems! Shaking his large, finely chiseled head, and blinking once, he turned swiftly around and began to lope back to camp. Huge body moving fluidly over the earth, large muscles all moving as one, back and forward in tune with his easy stride. Long limbs stretched to provide a longer stride, colossal paws thumping silently on contact with the ground. His long, whip-like tail was held out like a rudder, and wide neck lowered, now perfectly aerodynamic. His muscled body began to drive his own limbs forward, causing a crescendo in speed as the camp came into sight. Nothing more than a streak across the horizon, churning muscles began to ooze down to a slower pace, until he finally stopped. Silver-white pelt flattened against his well toned body, Icestar began to walk into camp, flattening himself to get through the tunnel of brambles. A wide grin spread over his strong and distinctive jaw, he continued to move toward the center of camp, large ice-like eyes scanning for any signs of trouble. The apprentice den was empty, but they would all be out training or helping the elders. The warrior's den was also vacant, but of course they would all be out doing their duties. After a complete look-over of the camp, everything seemed to be in order, as it should be. A complaining rumble deep inside his stomach reminded the tom that he hadn't eaten all day. Moving smoothly over toward the fresh-kill pile, he stopped before he even reached down to get a piece of succulent meat, it looked a bit empty.
The minuscule pile didn't look good under this cat's standards, and he swiftly turned his head toward the warrior's den, and his large auds pricked forward. The silver-white tom trotted toward the den, preparing to ask if any cat join him on a hunting patrol.
A warm, tickling feeling shot up his spine, making blue orbs close with delight. No, it was not the sun that caused this phenomenon of feeling, it was the feeling of being home, having a home, and having family.
Yes, this truly was home.

None