Post by bohemian on Apr 6, 2006 17:21:13 GMT -5
Name: Silverfur
Gender: She-cat
Age: 1 year
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Shadowclan
Peltage: Silverfur is true to her name, due to the distinctive light gray color of her pelt. She is almost completely that single color, aside from a few distinctions. Her right front paw is completely black and the paw opposite that, her left rear, is completely white. Also, the fur around her nose is also completely white. These characteristics, aside from her scent, make Silverfur easily recognizable.
Personality: Silverfur is a rather quiet cat, ever since birth, but she has a temper on her. She does not enjoy being taunted, perhaps because of the experiences of her apprenticeship and the fact that she is a self-concious, brand-new warrior. Silverfur is also a very loyal fighter and, like most all warriors, is more than willing to put her life on the line for her clan. When alone, Silverfur tends to ponder life and whatever problems may be arising in her clan. She also tends to consider battle stratagies in times like these and is able to improve her techniques to a certain extent by just giving them deep thought, although it takes a real battle to really polish them, as could be expected. Around others, she speaks only when she feels obliged, unless she is feeling restless or hyper. While the former is consistantly true in times of peril, the latter hardly ever applies.
History: Silverfur was born into Shadowclan. Even as a kit, she was restless of mind and quieter than the rest. As she grew older, the other kits began to notice this and took to teasing her about her lack of speech. As the taunting continued, she became more and more infuriated with the insolence in the world and kept more and more to herself. Even through her anger at her denmates, she still held a great amount of loyalty to her clan family and vowed that one day she would become a warrior. As she had planned, she was apprenticed to another cat, a she-cat warrior, and grew into a quick-witted, sharp warrior. Although she is smaller than is normal for a clan cat, she uses her size as an asset, agility being her primary mode for defeating foes. Although her fellow apprentices made fun of her size, her mentor praised her abilities and left Silverfur with a great amount of confidence. Although she has just recently been appointed a warrior, and is still a little worried if she will be worthy of the title she has so coveted, she works her hardest to keep her clan safe and make her clan leader and mentor proud.
IC: The musty air held nothing but an eerie silence tonight. The half-moon hung high, silhoetted against Silverpelt in the cloudness night. Silverfur padded noiselessly from the warriors den, far too restless to sleep. The unnamed, impending threat had been shrouding her mind once again, the same worry that her den mates had dismissed as absolutely nothing, consoling her with sharing tongues and kind words. At least they’d taken a step and grown up at least slightly from their taunting. Silverfur now found worthy, supportive friends in them. But then, she supposed, that was what clan loyalty was all about.
But she still couldn’t get the idea of trouble out of her mind. Silverpelt shown brightly down upon her, illuminating her soft, sleek fur in the process. It seemed she almost glowed in Starclan’s light. Her ears flicked back. Her coat color would always be a dead giveaway in a nighttime ambush. It was so bright. Perhaps the apprentices, before they had grown into the warrior name, had been right when the taunted her about her inability to shield herself. Perhaps she would be better as just a Queen.
But no. She hissed at herself, scolding those evil thoughts away. It had been said by cats so much stronger than her fellow new warriors that she would make a valuable fighter. That was what she needed to believe. That was what would spur her on when the time came to be strong, when she needed to fight, when she needed to win. What the others said didn’t matter. It never would. She had to listen to her heart. She had to be true to the loyalty she knew would always be there. The most important thing was that she would never betray her clan. That would be breaking the warrior code in the worst way. She wouldn’t have it. It was too important of a destiny.
Sighing, Silverfur prowled the camp, faultering only to peek inside the kit’s nursery, where the Queens were curled up with the little furballs. She nodded lightly. It was a noble cause, to be sure, but that’s not where she belonged... yet. But, she thought, she might like to have kits someday.
That is, once she proved to the skeptics that she was made of the same material they were, the stuff that made them fighters. That’s who she was and that’s who she would be now. It’s who she had to be. There was no turning back. And she wasn’t thinking of it.
With the light thought in her heart, Silverfur turned back and padded back to the warriors den. She curled up contentedly, watching the others sleep, before laying her head upon her paws and drifting off herself, her mind finally clear.
Code: Spring
Gender: She-cat
Age: 1 year
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Shadowclan
Peltage: Silverfur is true to her name, due to the distinctive light gray color of her pelt. She is almost completely that single color, aside from a few distinctions. Her right front paw is completely black and the paw opposite that, her left rear, is completely white. Also, the fur around her nose is also completely white. These characteristics, aside from her scent, make Silverfur easily recognizable.
Personality: Silverfur is a rather quiet cat, ever since birth, but she has a temper on her. She does not enjoy being taunted, perhaps because of the experiences of her apprenticeship and the fact that she is a self-concious, brand-new warrior. Silverfur is also a very loyal fighter and, like most all warriors, is more than willing to put her life on the line for her clan. When alone, Silverfur tends to ponder life and whatever problems may be arising in her clan. She also tends to consider battle stratagies in times like these and is able to improve her techniques to a certain extent by just giving them deep thought, although it takes a real battle to really polish them, as could be expected. Around others, she speaks only when she feels obliged, unless she is feeling restless or hyper. While the former is consistantly true in times of peril, the latter hardly ever applies.
History: Silverfur was born into Shadowclan. Even as a kit, she was restless of mind and quieter than the rest. As she grew older, the other kits began to notice this and took to teasing her about her lack of speech. As the taunting continued, she became more and more infuriated with the insolence in the world and kept more and more to herself. Even through her anger at her denmates, she still held a great amount of loyalty to her clan family and vowed that one day she would become a warrior. As she had planned, she was apprenticed to another cat, a she-cat warrior, and grew into a quick-witted, sharp warrior. Although she is smaller than is normal for a clan cat, she uses her size as an asset, agility being her primary mode for defeating foes. Although her fellow apprentices made fun of her size, her mentor praised her abilities and left Silverfur with a great amount of confidence. Although she has just recently been appointed a warrior, and is still a little worried if she will be worthy of the title she has so coveted, she works her hardest to keep her clan safe and make her clan leader and mentor proud.
IC: The musty air held nothing but an eerie silence tonight. The half-moon hung high, silhoetted against Silverpelt in the cloudness night. Silverfur padded noiselessly from the warriors den, far too restless to sleep. The unnamed, impending threat had been shrouding her mind once again, the same worry that her den mates had dismissed as absolutely nothing, consoling her with sharing tongues and kind words. At least they’d taken a step and grown up at least slightly from their taunting. Silverfur now found worthy, supportive friends in them. But then, she supposed, that was what clan loyalty was all about.
But she still couldn’t get the idea of trouble out of her mind. Silverpelt shown brightly down upon her, illuminating her soft, sleek fur in the process. It seemed she almost glowed in Starclan’s light. Her ears flicked back. Her coat color would always be a dead giveaway in a nighttime ambush. It was so bright. Perhaps the apprentices, before they had grown into the warrior name, had been right when the taunted her about her inability to shield herself. Perhaps she would be better as just a Queen.
But no. She hissed at herself, scolding those evil thoughts away. It had been said by cats so much stronger than her fellow new warriors that she would make a valuable fighter. That was what she needed to believe. That was what would spur her on when the time came to be strong, when she needed to fight, when she needed to win. What the others said didn’t matter. It never would. She had to listen to her heart. She had to be true to the loyalty she knew would always be there. The most important thing was that she would never betray her clan. That would be breaking the warrior code in the worst way. She wouldn’t have it. It was too important of a destiny.
Sighing, Silverfur prowled the camp, faultering only to peek inside the kit’s nursery, where the Queens were curled up with the little furballs. She nodded lightly. It was a noble cause, to be sure, but that’s not where she belonged... yet. But, she thought, she might like to have kits someday.
That is, once she proved to the skeptics that she was made of the same material they were, the stuff that made them fighters. That’s who she was and that’s who she would be now. It’s who she had to be. There was no turning back. And she wasn’t thinking of it.
With the light thought in her heart, Silverfur turned back and padded back to the warriors den. She curled up contentedly, watching the others sleep, before laying her head upon her paws and drifting off herself, her mind finally clear.
Code: Spring
