Post by icefang on May 30, 2006 20:38:07 GMT -5
[glow=black,2,300]
Name: Icewind
Clan: ShadowClan
Position: Warrior
Gender: Tom
Age: 33 moons
Peltage: He is a large and muscled tom, although lithe as well. He has a semi-long coat of steel gray. Covering were different, darker shades of gray and silver, lightest being almost white and darkest being almost black, swirling in patterns resembling an overcast sky. He has long, sinisterly sharp claws that can sicken a cat at the very sight of them, the main reason why he keeps them sheathed as much as possible. He has extremely unusual eyes, red as fire with pupils black as night. With them he could easily stare down an enemy without fighting. They have the capacity to channel huge amounts of emotion, although he usually keeps them cold and distant, keeps any emotion he may feel out. He is very attractive to she-cats, but they are often scared off, or simply disgusted by his attitude, not that they had a chance in the first place (hehe).
Personality: Icewind is a cold, almost evil tom. He does not like to make friends, and other cats find him hard to relate to. There is nothng in his past to make him so hostile and distant, so it seems. If there is, he has never let anything on. He is sarcastic to the last degree, and hard to reach out to. It takes serious persistence to make friends with him, but his friendship is rewarding. However his friends are few. He seems incapable of loving anything, and his sharp tongue has made him many an enemy. He is a fantastic fighter with unusual techniques, but he does not like to stand out because of the attention it brings, so he uses the technique favored by ShadowClan. He is good at hunting, although has little patience for it, so does not like to. He prefers to hunt and patrol alone. In fact, he prefers to be alone altogether.
IC:
Icewind padded into the ShadowClan camp. He almost winced at the sunlight brightening the moorland which he called home. He tried to avoid it as much as possible, seeing as cats took more notice to him when he was in broad daylight. He hooked a vole onto a long, hooked claw and receded back into the darkness of the warriors den.
As he began to bite into the catch, a she-cat padded up to him and sat down. He could tell by her very presence that she wanted to talk to him, but did not respond. He continued to eat his vole as if she was not there.
“May I have some?†she asked finally. He thrust her the remains of the vole, not intending to eat it with her, still maintaining his silence. She looked a little disconcerted at his sudden nature. She clearly had no intention to eat it now.
“May I ask, what is your name?†she asked, bravely trying to engage him in conversation. He was feeling particularly sour today, or he may have answered her. Instead, he turned his head agonizingly slowly toward her. He fixed her with a long, cold stare for a full ten seconds before turning back and staring at the wall of brambles. It worked; she hurried out of the den as fast as she could manage while remaining inconspicuous. He wondered vaguely whether he should’ve been nicer to her.
Nah.
Code: Spring
[/glow]Clan: ShadowClan
Position: Warrior
Gender: Tom
Age: 33 moons
Peltage: He is a large and muscled tom, although lithe as well. He has a semi-long coat of steel gray. Covering were different, darker shades of gray and silver, lightest being almost white and darkest being almost black, swirling in patterns resembling an overcast sky. He has long, sinisterly sharp claws that can sicken a cat at the very sight of them, the main reason why he keeps them sheathed as much as possible. He has extremely unusual eyes, red as fire with pupils black as night. With them he could easily stare down an enemy without fighting. They have the capacity to channel huge amounts of emotion, although he usually keeps them cold and distant, keeps any emotion he may feel out. He is very attractive to she-cats, but they are often scared off, or simply disgusted by his attitude, not that they had a chance in the first place (hehe).
Personality: Icewind is a cold, almost evil tom. He does not like to make friends, and other cats find him hard to relate to. There is nothng in his past to make him so hostile and distant, so it seems. If there is, he has never let anything on. He is sarcastic to the last degree, and hard to reach out to. It takes serious persistence to make friends with him, but his friendship is rewarding. However his friends are few. He seems incapable of loving anything, and his sharp tongue has made him many an enemy. He is a fantastic fighter with unusual techniques, but he does not like to stand out because of the attention it brings, so he uses the technique favored by ShadowClan. He is good at hunting, although has little patience for it, so does not like to. He prefers to hunt and patrol alone. In fact, he prefers to be alone altogether.
IC:
Icewind padded into the ShadowClan camp. He almost winced at the sunlight brightening the moorland which he called home. He tried to avoid it as much as possible, seeing as cats took more notice to him when he was in broad daylight. He hooked a vole onto a long, hooked claw and receded back into the darkness of the warriors den.
As he began to bite into the catch, a she-cat padded up to him and sat down. He could tell by her very presence that she wanted to talk to him, but did not respond. He continued to eat his vole as if she was not there.
“May I have some?†she asked finally. He thrust her the remains of the vole, not intending to eat it with her, still maintaining his silence. She looked a little disconcerted at his sudden nature. She clearly had no intention to eat it now.
“May I ask, what is your name?†she asked, bravely trying to engage him in conversation. He was feeling particularly sour today, or he may have answered her. Instead, he turned his head agonizingly slowly toward her. He fixed her with a long, cold stare for a full ten seconds before turning back and staring at the wall of brambles. It worked; she hurried out of the den as fast as she could manage while remaining inconspicuous. He wondered vaguely whether he should’ve been nicer to her.
Nah.
Code: Spring