Post by dusk on Aug 24, 2008 22:25:49 GMT -5
Name: Dusk [current] – Duskkit – Duskpaw – Duskwing
Definition:
The word ‘dusk’ refers to the time just before night when the sky can display a number of extraordinary colors. Dusk’s coat shows two primary distinct and vibrant colors: black and orange. As these colors are often seen at dusk, she was named such. Once she obtains her warrior name, wing will refer to flight which in turn refers to her swift reflexes and sprinting abilities.
Gender Female
Age: 5.5moons
Clan: Loner ->> [looking to join]->> Eclipse Clan
Rank: Not applicable
Looks:
Dusk is a purebred Somali [reference: fanciers.com/breed-faqs/somali-faq.html] and shows every bit of it despite being unusually small for the breed and heralding an awkward variation of colors. A long, well-balanced and feathered tail provides excellent balance. A lithe body lends itself completely to her hunting abilities. Keen curiosity and intelligence only sharpen an already double-edged blade. Her medium-length coat is soft but thick, true to her breed, she looks almost fox-like.
The colors of her fur are bright, but fade together along the sidelines of her body. Starting a deep black along her spine, the shade blurs into a bright fiery-orange which reaches its peak vivacity at her hocks and elbows then fades to a pale yellow at her feet. Her eyes serve as twin moons against her sky-colored hair; they are shimmering silver against the black that shrouds the upper part of her face.
Her ears are tall, and like most cat’s, are always on the alert- ever swiveling, ever searching- even in sleep. The protective fur along the pink insides of the ears is colored a pale grey-blue. The colors of her whiskers are primarily black, though a white one can sprout on occasion.
As mentioned before, she is smaller than her breed has decreed, but this only aids further to her quickness and agility. She can more easily dodge, maneuver and leap than many. Hunting has come naturally and easily to her. When it comes to fighting however, she must make her strikes quick and decisive as she lacks endurance. Bursts of energy are her brand, but long, arduous tasks can often be her bane.
[Picture coming soon.]
Actions:
Dusk is the jack of all emotions. She never truly settles on one at any given time and white can become black in a matter of seconds. In one instant, she can be kind, loving, maternal and proud, in the next; she can be cruel, sarcastic, sadistic, and even masochistic. When left to her thoughts, or faced with a grave decision, she often defaults to a calm, reserved personality. It is only in these times that her soul’s maturation can truly be seen. Despite her incredible whirlwind of emotions, once she’s decided a cat is her friend, she would be willing die for him. It’s the deciding part that’s difficult. And through it all, she is guarded and defensive; she will always keep a large part of herself in secrecy.
When it comes to fighting, Dusk will never turn away unless a large number of cats could be put at risk. If war breaks between clans (and if she ever earns a place amongst one) she will rush to battle, often shaking with excitement just before it breaks. Battle is her candy, peace is her bore.
It is unlikely that Dusk will ever settle down with a mate. On the whole, and because of her past, she is unnecessarily uncomfortable toward the male gender. While she will talk and carry out duties with them or from them, she generally avoids them. This is not to say that she doesn’t count any as close friends however. With persistence and time, she can warm to anyone. In short, she is not incredibly social and this often plays against her when it comes to others.
Past:
Dusk was born the runt of a litter of five. Her four siblings were all male and their taunting and teasing left a deep scar in her personality. She remembers nothing of her mother as she died shortly after giving birth due to unknown complications. Being bred by humans, she never knew who her father was as there was a wide variety to choose from. She was hand nursed and, shortly after being weaned was often neglected by the male two-leg that ran the cattery. As she was too small to meet her breeds ‘standards’ she was rarely shown to potential buyers. Eventually, she was never shown at all.
During this time, she was left alone behind the bars of her cage. It was this seclusion that led to her unstable emotions. Silence, darkness, and only her thoughts tended to her loneliness. She lost track of time and days, never seeing the sky or the changing light. She lost herself.
It was soon after her fifth moon that the cage opened, but it was not for food or water that it came. It came for her. Her heart leapt, her hopes flew. She would find a home, finally! But the hope was betrayed as a burlap sack opened and enveloped her. The mouth was sealed and after a number of jostles from the two-leg’s steps, cold water seeped through fabric of her newest cell.
Cold wetness came first, then the merciless battle between breath and water. Then the numbness found her and finally, her old friend: the dark.
If asked, she wouldn’t be able to say just how long the shadows of her mind held her. But she’d remember the sudden flood of light that came in flashes. She’d recall the gentle pet of a rough tongue. The subtle sight of a brindled face toped with triangular ears - the soft feather-prick of whiskers.
Her savior’s name was Greer. He’d told her he chose his name after a sound he’d once heard, but he’d call her after something he’d seen. He’d named her Dusk, because when he found her, the colors of her coat matched the colors of the dieing sun and the birth of night.
Greer taught her what he could, but he was far older than any cat she’d ever heard to live. Even so, she was an excellent student and his incredible patience allowed him to oversee her flurry of emotions and find the reserved wisdom she held. She was what he called an old soul and old souls, he told her, were far more mysterious than many of the wonders of the world. Of the other wonders, he told her of StarClan and the Clans they made. He whispered tales of how great warriors protected their appointed lands and how sometimes they would war against each other to keep their friends and family safe. The stories awed her imagination and inspired her dreams.
Time passed, and so did Greer and we come to the present. Dusk is hardened by her trials, deranged from her seclusion, mad with past confusions, hallowed by losses. She bears an age far greater than her moons. Now, she follows the clues her savior offered her to find the warrior clans of the forest and find some place for herself within StarClan’s grand design.
In Character:
Sharing tongues for the last time with her mentor and first friend, Greer, a quiet growl rose in her throat. She felt inclined to defy everything she’d been taught of StarClan. They had no reason to decree that cats should die because of age! If anything, they should be granted health in reward for surviving life’s cruel punishments. Life – it knew no mercy and her thoughts began to shed light on the idea that perhaps it was better to die instead of pushing through it all. Perhaps it was better to give in.
But that wasn’t right; that was the very farthest from it. Giving in was for the weak and she certainly wasn’t that. She was a warrior at heart, and she would find her place in a Clan. She would make it her destiny and all in one move, she would both defy the brutal StarClan its efforts to keep her from prevailing, and find a place within their grand design. The question of why she hated them so and found such inspiration in the knowledge of them tickled at the edge of her consciousness. The pestering query was quashed immediately; it would only trouble her already troubled mind. A sigh puffed from her nostrils as she sat up to view the old brindle tom’s body. She gave a grave nod: approving her own decision.
With renewed determination, she dug Greer’s final resting nest in the earth and covered his stiffening body in the cold, dark soil. She whispered her prayers over the fresh mound then turned and climbed to the crest of her den’s protective hill. The sun was dieing just under the horizon, burning the sky with orange, searing the newborn night with its fire. She would find her place and she would keep it until the earth ate her bones and drank the last drop of her blood.
Relationships/Kin: Four brothers whose names and whereabouts are unknown
Other:
-Incredible range of emotions
-Generally quiet and reserved
-Holds a silent grudge toward all males
-Proud of her heritage
-Shamed by her past
-Very guarded and secretive
Codewords: Painting portraits of ghosts
Definition:
The word ‘dusk’ refers to the time just before night when the sky can display a number of extraordinary colors. Dusk’s coat shows two primary distinct and vibrant colors: black and orange. As these colors are often seen at dusk, she was named such. Once she obtains her warrior name, wing will refer to flight which in turn refers to her swift reflexes and sprinting abilities.
Gender Female
Age: 5.5moons
Clan: Loner ->> [looking to join]->> Eclipse Clan
Rank: Not applicable
Looks:
Dusk is a purebred Somali [reference: fanciers.com/breed-faqs/somali-faq.html] and shows every bit of it despite being unusually small for the breed and heralding an awkward variation of colors. A long, well-balanced and feathered tail provides excellent balance. A lithe body lends itself completely to her hunting abilities. Keen curiosity and intelligence only sharpen an already double-edged blade. Her medium-length coat is soft but thick, true to her breed, she looks almost fox-like.
The colors of her fur are bright, but fade together along the sidelines of her body. Starting a deep black along her spine, the shade blurs into a bright fiery-orange which reaches its peak vivacity at her hocks and elbows then fades to a pale yellow at her feet. Her eyes serve as twin moons against her sky-colored hair; they are shimmering silver against the black that shrouds the upper part of her face.
Her ears are tall, and like most cat’s, are always on the alert- ever swiveling, ever searching- even in sleep. The protective fur along the pink insides of the ears is colored a pale grey-blue. The colors of her whiskers are primarily black, though a white one can sprout on occasion.
As mentioned before, she is smaller than her breed has decreed, but this only aids further to her quickness and agility. She can more easily dodge, maneuver and leap than many. Hunting has come naturally and easily to her. When it comes to fighting however, she must make her strikes quick and decisive as she lacks endurance. Bursts of energy are her brand, but long, arduous tasks can often be her bane.
[Picture coming soon.]
Actions:
Dusk is the jack of all emotions. She never truly settles on one at any given time and white can become black in a matter of seconds. In one instant, she can be kind, loving, maternal and proud, in the next; she can be cruel, sarcastic, sadistic, and even masochistic. When left to her thoughts, or faced with a grave decision, she often defaults to a calm, reserved personality. It is only in these times that her soul’s maturation can truly be seen. Despite her incredible whirlwind of emotions, once she’s decided a cat is her friend, she would be willing die for him. It’s the deciding part that’s difficult. And through it all, she is guarded and defensive; she will always keep a large part of herself in secrecy.
When it comes to fighting, Dusk will never turn away unless a large number of cats could be put at risk. If war breaks between clans (and if she ever earns a place amongst one) she will rush to battle, often shaking with excitement just before it breaks. Battle is her candy, peace is her bore.
It is unlikely that Dusk will ever settle down with a mate. On the whole, and because of her past, she is unnecessarily uncomfortable toward the male gender. While she will talk and carry out duties with them or from them, she generally avoids them. This is not to say that she doesn’t count any as close friends however. With persistence and time, she can warm to anyone. In short, she is not incredibly social and this often plays against her when it comes to others.
Past:
Dusk was born the runt of a litter of five. Her four siblings were all male and their taunting and teasing left a deep scar in her personality. She remembers nothing of her mother as she died shortly after giving birth due to unknown complications. Being bred by humans, she never knew who her father was as there was a wide variety to choose from. She was hand nursed and, shortly after being weaned was often neglected by the male two-leg that ran the cattery. As she was too small to meet her breeds ‘standards’ she was rarely shown to potential buyers. Eventually, she was never shown at all.
During this time, she was left alone behind the bars of her cage. It was this seclusion that led to her unstable emotions. Silence, darkness, and only her thoughts tended to her loneliness. She lost track of time and days, never seeing the sky or the changing light. She lost herself.
It was soon after her fifth moon that the cage opened, but it was not for food or water that it came. It came for her. Her heart leapt, her hopes flew. She would find a home, finally! But the hope was betrayed as a burlap sack opened and enveloped her. The mouth was sealed and after a number of jostles from the two-leg’s steps, cold water seeped through fabric of her newest cell.
Cold wetness came first, then the merciless battle between breath and water. Then the numbness found her and finally, her old friend: the dark.
If asked, she wouldn’t be able to say just how long the shadows of her mind held her. But she’d remember the sudden flood of light that came in flashes. She’d recall the gentle pet of a rough tongue. The subtle sight of a brindled face toped with triangular ears - the soft feather-prick of whiskers.
Her savior’s name was Greer. He’d told her he chose his name after a sound he’d once heard, but he’d call her after something he’d seen. He’d named her Dusk, because when he found her, the colors of her coat matched the colors of the dieing sun and the birth of night.
Greer taught her what he could, but he was far older than any cat she’d ever heard to live. Even so, she was an excellent student and his incredible patience allowed him to oversee her flurry of emotions and find the reserved wisdom she held. She was what he called an old soul and old souls, he told her, were far more mysterious than many of the wonders of the world. Of the other wonders, he told her of StarClan and the Clans they made. He whispered tales of how great warriors protected their appointed lands and how sometimes they would war against each other to keep their friends and family safe. The stories awed her imagination and inspired her dreams.
Time passed, and so did Greer and we come to the present. Dusk is hardened by her trials, deranged from her seclusion, mad with past confusions, hallowed by losses. She bears an age far greater than her moons. Now, she follows the clues her savior offered her to find the warrior clans of the forest and find some place for herself within StarClan’s grand design.
In Character:
Sharing tongues for the last time with her mentor and first friend, Greer, a quiet growl rose in her throat. She felt inclined to defy everything she’d been taught of StarClan. They had no reason to decree that cats should die because of age! If anything, they should be granted health in reward for surviving life’s cruel punishments. Life – it knew no mercy and her thoughts began to shed light on the idea that perhaps it was better to die instead of pushing through it all. Perhaps it was better to give in.
But that wasn’t right; that was the very farthest from it. Giving in was for the weak and she certainly wasn’t that. She was a warrior at heart, and she would find her place in a Clan. She would make it her destiny and all in one move, she would both defy the brutal StarClan its efforts to keep her from prevailing, and find a place within their grand design. The question of why she hated them so and found such inspiration in the knowledge of them tickled at the edge of her consciousness. The pestering query was quashed immediately; it would only trouble her already troubled mind. A sigh puffed from her nostrils as she sat up to view the old brindle tom’s body. She gave a grave nod: approving her own decision.
With renewed determination, she dug Greer’s final resting nest in the earth and covered his stiffening body in the cold, dark soil. She whispered her prayers over the fresh mound then turned and climbed to the crest of her den’s protective hill. The sun was dieing just under the horizon, burning the sky with orange, searing the newborn night with its fire. She would find her place and she would keep it until the earth ate her bones and drank the last drop of her blood.
Relationships/Kin: Four brothers whose names and whereabouts are unknown
Other:
-Incredible range of emotions
-Generally quiet and reserved
-Holds a silent grudge toward all males
-Proud of her heritage
-Shamed by her past
-Very guarded and secretive
Codewords: Painting portraits of ghosts
