Post by trissea on May 3, 2007 19:10:49 GMT -5
Name: Pansyleaf
Gender:She-cat
Age: 65 moons
Clan: BrightClan
Rank: Warrior
Looks: Pansyleaf used to be a beautiful color. A mix o wolfish-brown and ginger, with white markings. She was fascinating to look at. Shady patterns carved her fur, telling tales only she knew. But now, she's gone white. White with blackish marks, not nearly as appealing in appeariance. She has deteriorated in beauty, but she's still very strong and has plenty of muscle.
Actions: Pansyleaf is a strange cat. She is snappish and sarcastic, always has something to say about everything. She's pretty much just annoying. She is loyal, just like any other clan cat, but she's not a cat that is big with socail matters. Often, she is oblivious to what's going on around her. Like who's just had kits, or who's been made apprentinces. She's sweet inside, but she doesn't think she is. She doesn't really think. She just does whatever she wants. Nobody's ever stopped her before.
Past: Kithood:
Normal kitting, normal kithood. Her mother loved and nurtered her, as well as her two sisters, Freeleaf and Larkwing. Her father taught them how to play-hunt.
Apprenticeship: Their mother was dead. She'd caught greencough from an elder in camp, and had died suddenly in her sleep, unable to breathe. The three sisters had to make do with eachother, and thier father was too despondent and greiving to help much.
Warriorship: When the cats got their warrior names, their father became an elder. Two moons later, Pansyleaf met a hansome, charming, dashing tom: Littlefang. She and him fell in love immidiately, and she was soon bearing his kits. There was a fire, then. A huge, terrible fire. Four moons ago, to be precise. Littlefang died trying to save her father, who also died. Any moon now, she will have Littlefangs' kits. Is she ready? Will her sisters be there for her?
In Character: Ugh... not from this site, but..
Truestrike crept soundlessly through the undergrowth, the sun shining down above her. All around her, the sounds of green-leaf echoed in the air; songbirds called to each other, and the gentle rustle of leaves on the trees was a constant reminder of the warm weather. Truestrike scented the air, every one of her senses alert. She’d been sent on a hunting patrol, and so far, the prey had practically begged to be caught. The she-cat dropped into a hunting crouch as she scented a vole. She caught sight of the prey animal, only a few tail-lengths in front of her, nibbling on a grass stalk. It was unaware that it was being watched, that danger was lurking in the shadows around the sunny clearing. Truestrike bunched her muscles, and sprang at the creature, killing it with a swift strike from her outstretched claws. She picked up the still-warm body in her jaws, and decided to head back to camp. She had caught plenty of prey; it would already take her two or three trips to carry it all back, she guessed. Carrying the piece of fresh-kill, the gray warrior turned back and began to follow her own scent trail back to camp. Along the way, she picked up two mice and a chaffinch. When she had all that she could carry, Truestrike bounded back through the sunlit forest in the direction of the RiverClan camp, satisfied that her Clan would be full-fed tonight.
Relationships/Kin: Freeleaf
Larkwing
Other:
Codewords:Poison Tears Crash Down
Gender:She-cat
Age: 65 moons
Clan: BrightClan
Rank: Warrior
Looks: Pansyleaf used to be a beautiful color. A mix o wolfish-brown and ginger, with white markings. She was fascinating to look at. Shady patterns carved her fur, telling tales only she knew. But now, she's gone white. White with blackish marks, not nearly as appealing in appeariance. She has deteriorated in beauty, but she's still very strong and has plenty of muscle.
Actions: Pansyleaf is a strange cat. She is snappish and sarcastic, always has something to say about everything. She's pretty much just annoying. She is loyal, just like any other clan cat, but she's not a cat that is big with socail matters. Often, she is oblivious to what's going on around her. Like who's just had kits, or who's been made apprentinces. She's sweet inside, but she doesn't think she is. She doesn't really think. She just does whatever she wants. Nobody's ever stopped her before.
Past: Kithood:
Normal kitting, normal kithood. Her mother loved and nurtered her, as well as her two sisters, Freeleaf and Larkwing. Her father taught them how to play-hunt.
Apprenticeship: Their mother was dead. She'd caught greencough from an elder in camp, and had died suddenly in her sleep, unable to breathe. The three sisters had to make do with eachother, and thier father was too despondent and greiving to help much.
Warriorship: When the cats got their warrior names, their father became an elder. Two moons later, Pansyleaf met a hansome, charming, dashing tom: Littlefang. She and him fell in love immidiately, and she was soon bearing his kits. There was a fire, then. A huge, terrible fire. Four moons ago, to be precise. Littlefang died trying to save her father, who also died. Any moon now, she will have Littlefangs' kits. Is she ready? Will her sisters be there for her?
In Character: Ugh... not from this site, but..
Truestrike crept soundlessly through the undergrowth, the sun shining down above her. All around her, the sounds of green-leaf echoed in the air; songbirds called to each other, and the gentle rustle of leaves on the trees was a constant reminder of the warm weather. Truestrike scented the air, every one of her senses alert. She’d been sent on a hunting patrol, and so far, the prey had practically begged to be caught. The she-cat dropped into a hunting crouch as she scented a vole. She caught sight of the prey animal, only a few tail-lengths in front of her, nibbling on a grass stalk. It was unaware that it was being watched, that danger was lurking in the shadows around the sunny clearing. Truestrike bunched her muscles, and sprang at the creature, killing it with a swift strike from her outstretched claws. She picked up the still-warm body in her jaws, and decided to head back to camp. She had caught plenty of prey; it would already take her two or three trips to carry it all back, she guessed. Carrying the piece of fresh-kill, the gray warrior turned back and began to follow her own scent trail back to camp. Along the way, she picked up two mice and a chaffinch. When she had all that she could carry, Truestrike bounded back through the sunlit forest in the direction of the RiverClan camp, satisfied that her Clan would be full-fed tonight.
Relationships/Kin: Freeleaf
Larkwing
Other:
Codewords:Poison Tears Crash Down
