Post by aemin on Dec 11, 2006 18:05:34 GMT -5
[glow=green,2,300]Name:[/glow]
Spitfire
[glow=green,2,300]Clan:[/glow]
ShadowClan
[glow=green,2,300]Position:[/glow]
Warrior
[glow=green,2,300]Age:[/glow]
14 Moons
[glow=green,2,300]Gender:[/glow]
Tom
[glow=green,2,300]Peltage:[/glow]
Dark pelted tom with a white stripe down his back and gleaming amber eyes.
[glow=green,2,300]Picture:[/glow]
None.
[glow=green,2,300]Personality:[/glow]
Spitfire is a very proud cat. If someone addresses ShadowClan in an aggressive manner, Spitfire will use his sharp tongue in an angry approach. His feelings towards other Clans are less than friendly. In fact, it's hostile. At Gatherings, he may come out in a rare streak of friendliness. In battles, it is undesireable to be fighting him, as Spitfire is as fast as he is strong.
Spitfire loves hunting. He remarks "It is a time for me to be alone to do as I wish". Spitfire, in conclusion, is a great hunter. He can catch anything.
Spitfie dreams of having an apprentice to mentor and being respected by ShadowClan. He is unusually nice and friendly when he has an apprentice. Otherwise, his barbed tongue is enough yo set even the most patient leader on fire. Spitfire is eternally loyal to ShadowClan and will die to protect his Clan.
[glow=green,2,300]IC:[/glow]
The moonlight made the sleek tom's fur turn silver. His quiet pawsteps could not be heard as they made contact with the strangely silent earth. Amber orbs gleamed with excitement as the tom made his way through a marshy area of oily grass. As if on signal, a lone cat stepped out of the shadows, waving it's tail in welcome at Spitfire. Spitfire excitedly ran forward, pawsteps still not making a sound. Oh, I didn't expect to ever see you again he murmured in the cat's ear. The cat scented of ShadowClan, as did Spitfire. StarClan had communicated to Spitfire that his traveling friend would appear this very night, at this very moment. Come, come, we must get you to camp. You have loads of explaining to do he murmured quietly before turning tail and slinking into the shadows. Spitfire looked over his shoulder at the cream pelted she-cat. This way he muttered before he tore off into the pitch black night, pawsteps as quiet as they always were.
[glow=green,2,300]Code:[/glow] Spring
Spitfire
[glow=green,2,300]Clan:[/glow]
ShadowClan
[glow=green,2,300]Position:[/glow]
Warrior
[glow=green,2,300]Age:[/glow]
14 Moons
[glow=green,2,300]Gender:[/glow]
Tom
[glow=green,2,300]Peltage:[/glow]
Dark pelted tom with a white stripe down his back and gleaming amber eyes.
[glow=green,2,300]Picture:[/glow]
None.
[glow=green,2,300]Personality:[/glow]
Spitfire is a very proud cat. If someone addresses ShadowClan in an aggressive manner, Spitfire will use his sharp tongue in an angry approach. His feelings towards other Clans are less than friendly. In fact, it's hostile. At Gatherings, he may come out in a rare streak of friendliness. In battles, it is undesireable to be fighting him, as Spitfire is as fast as he is strong.
Spitfire loves hunting. He remarks "It is a time for me to be alone to do as I wish". Spitfire, in conclusion, is a great hunter. He can catch anything.
Spitfie dreams of having an apprentice to mentor and being respected by ShadowClan. He is unusually nice and friendly when he has an apprentice. Otherwise, his barbed tongue is enough yo set even the most patient leader on fire. Spitfire is eternally loyal to ShadowClan and will die to protect his Clan.
[glow=green,2,300]IC:[/glow]
The moonlight made the sleek tom's fur turn silver. His quiet pawsteps could not be heard as they made contact with the strangely silent earth. Amber orbs gleamed with excitement as the tom made his way through a marshy area of oily grass. As if on signal, a lone cat stepped out of the shadows, waving it's tail in welcome at Spitfire. Spitfire excitedly ran forward, pawsteps still not making a sound. Oh, I didn't expect to ever see you again he murmured in the cat's ear. The cat scented of ShadowClan, as did Spitfire. StarClan had communicated to Spitfire that his traveling friend would appear this very night, at this very moment. Come, come, we must get you to camp. You have loads of explaining to do he murmured quietly before turning tail and slinking into the shadows. Spitfire looked over his shoulder at the cream pelted she-cat. This way he muttered before he tore off into the pitch black night, pawsteps as quiet as they always were.
[glow=green,2,300]Code:[/glow] Spring
