Warrior Cats Age Chart Novels & Stories

Rune clearly not a big fan when it came down to the Elders. Another thought soon rising within me as I move to ask Rune once more. ‘Hey Rune?’ ‘Yeah Tori?’ ‘How much of the Elders do you know?’ Hesitating slowly does Rune eventually move to answer. ‘I know that their definitely old school. Plus I think one of them is like 50, so they’ve been around for a very long time.’ ‘Doesn’t that make them old?’ Chuckling at my words does Rune move to answer me back. ‘No Tori. There not that old. For encase you’ve forgotten, we’re wolves Tori. And wolves stop aging after 30 or at least our bodies do.’

Even though he was old, he was still a very skilled warrior. "I heard that he met his wolf at the age of ten," Roger said. "Munni was so proud when he talked about it all those years ago." "Ten?!" Jett looked at him incredulously. Thirteen was usually the earliest that werewolves could shift. It was more likely to shift later than that age rather than earlier. "That's what Munni had told me," Roger shrugged. "I could believe it, though. Even as a boy, he was as sharp as a blade."

Gunner “She knows we’ve been watching her sir.” “That’s not possible Hunter. Werewolves don’t connect to their wolf until they turn eighteen.” “I’ve been spying on several packs nearby. I learned Katerina has been connected to her wolf since she was like twelve. I think she can at least catch your scent, whatever that is to her.”

My father declares. " I am barely nineteen." I counter with a frown. From his tone,one would mistake me to be twenty five and unmated. A female wolf can remain unmated until the age of twenty six. That's when they are forced to choose a mate if they are not claimed yet.

The woman steps closer and gently examines Figaro’s tail. “Oh, you’ve got yourself a young one. Only about fifty to seventy years old,” the healer explains. “You can tell by the markings on the tail. The older they are, the darker the spots get. The elders have tails that turn completely black, and the true long-livers even develop streaks of grey.” Holy hell. He’s like three times older than me! Calling him “little one” suddenly feels… not very appropriate. Although by kizibara standards, he is basically a teenager.

He bundled up my three sleeping cats in one go and flung open the window, ready to toss them out. Quick as lightning, I stepped in front of him, blocking his move. "Dominic, what are you doing? I raised them!" He exploded on the spot. "Haven't you heard the notice? The apocalypse starts in twenty-four hours! You expect these blind, crippled cats to protect you?" I planted myself firmly in front of the window, refusing to budge. When brute force didn't work, he tried persuasion. "Scarlett, listen to me. Kill these useless cats, and we'd have six slots. Then we could raise more beasts. We'd be invincible."

Iris who was 4 years younger than her felt more like her kid as she was only 11 when their parents died. "I'm late for training, see you in the evening" Iris calls out as she leaves for her early morning combat training. In our pack, wolves have mandatory combat training and school until they turn 18. Over 18, one has the choice to continue in whichever field they have an interest in. Though most of us choose to continue combat and join the pack's military division, many others work in our other important areas like pack healers, pack businesses, etc. Although the military division has some superiority complex we still respect the others as their contribution is as important as ours for the

“Too many years to count.” Wolf-shifters stay the age they were when they got their wolf and never age a day after. I received my wolf at eighteen, so I’ll never grow older. However, men get their wolves at about twenty-five, much later than women. But we can die or be killed, so we’re quasi-immortal. “About a hundred years, give or take a few.” Adan took a biscuit and some butter, not looking up. “Try, more like one hundred and seventy-two.” Mason smiled, shaking his head.

“Anyway, back to the topic of your approachability. Based on what you’ve told me, the only werewolves who actually see and interact with you daily are the lead warriors and high-ranking members. How is that approachable?” I raised an eyebrow. He frowned deeply, thinking over my conclusion. The silence stretched as I resisted the urge to break it with a different question. “It hasn’t been easy for me,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “I had to take over the leadership when my parents were killed in a rogue attack.” “I’m really sorry about your parents.” I replied sincerely. He nodded, lips tight. “So how old are you?” I asked. He looked young. “I’m 24.”

The werewolves were of all ages, from young pups to grizzled veterans, but they all shared a common determination in their eyes. I saw a young werewolf, no more than ten years old, standing proudly beside his father, his eyes shining with excitement and fear. I saw an elderly werewolf, her fur graying and her eyes cloudy with age, but her spirit unbroken and her jaw set in determination. I saw a group of young warriors, their muscles rippling beneath their skin as they flexed their arms and legs, their eyes burning with a fierce hunger for battle. And I saw the pack's elderly warriors, their faces lined with age and experience, but their eyes still burning with a fierce loyalty to their pack