Post by scorn on Oct 6, 2006 18:27:57 GMT -5
Name:
Scorn
Clan:
None
Position:
Rogue/Loner
Age:
12 moons
Gender:
She-cat
Peltage:
She has a pure black pelt, with only one flaw in her ansestory. She has a white mark on her chest.It annoys her, because, in her tradions, it shows that her heart has kindnesss, however little there is. Her claws are as black as the midnight of new moon, and her teeth are silver as the full moon, with only a few bloodsains.Her eyes are of a gloden emrald, percing and captuing as possible. Her coa is sleek and not a hair out of place unless she is fighting, and her tail is long and never bristesl.
Picture:
Personality: She is a lone spirt, wanting nothing to do with other cats. She cares nothing for love or lotaty, and willl take the winning side.She scorns others, as is her name, and loves to kill. She comes and goes from the Rogueclan, for many are afaid to stop her. She is pround and friece, and will rather die than admit she was wrong or lost at a battle. She has few kind spurts, but will sometimes show mercy.
IC: ((This is a small pargraph,I know.))
Scorn's silky black pelt gleamed in the mid day sun, her fangs bloody as she tore them away from a young cats flesh. She sapt out he warm blood, and put her fangs into the neck, ignoring the trearing the cat was doing with claws on her belly. She felt blood gush into her open mouth, and breathed in through her nose the scent of blood and death. She heard the desprate cries of her, then
he gurgling and yowls and snarling at he defince of death.Her teeth touched bone, through the veins and snakes that carried blood into the head. The young tom, who wanted her as a mate, let out a gurgling noise before going into spazms. Scorn stepped back,admiring her handy work."Staclan cant help you know." She said, discusted. She turned, walking away. She didnt even turn as the tom gave a finnal spaz and went limp, giving away a final breath until he died.
Code:
Spring
Scorn
Clan:
None
Position:
Rogue/Loner
Age:
12 moons
Gender:
She-cat
Peltage:
She has a pure black pelt, with only one flaw in her ansestory. She has a white mark on her chest.It annoys her, because, in her tradions, it shows that her heart has kindnesss, however little there is. Her claws are as black as the midnight of new moon, and her teeth are silver as the full moon, with only a few bloodsains.Her eyes are of a gloden emrald, percing and captuing as possible. Her coa is sleek and not a hair out of place unless she is fighting, and her tail is long and never bristesl.
Picture:
Personality: She is a lone spirt, wanting nothing to do with other cats. She cares nothing for love or lotaty, and willl take the winning side.She scorns others, as is her name, and loves to kill. She comes and goes from the Rogueclan, for many are afaid to stop her. She is pround and friece, and will rather die than admit she was wrong or lost at a battle. She has few kind spurts, but will sometimes show mercy.
IC: ((This is a small pargraph,I know.))
Scorn's silky black pelt gleamed in the mid day sun, her fangs bloody as she tore them away from a young cats flesh. She sapt out he warm blood, and put her fangs into the neck, ignoring the trearing the cat was doing with claws on her belly. She felt blood gush into her open mouth, and breathed in through her nose the scent of blood and death. She heard the desprate cries of her, then
he gurgling and yowls and snarling at he defince of death.Her teeth touched bone, through the veins and snakes that carried blood into the head. The young tom, who wanted her as a mate, let out a gurgling noise before going into spazms. Scorn stepped back,admiring her handy work."Staclan cant help you know." She said, discusted. She turned, walking away. She didnt even turn as the tom gave a finnal spaz and went limp, giving away a final breath until he died.
Code:
Spring