Post by blackfoot on Oct 8, 2007 12:06:31 GMT -5
Name: Storm
Gender: tom
Age: 14 moons
Clan: Tribe of Nightmares
Rank: warrior
Looks: Storm is completely and utterly black. His fur is short though slightly longer on his tail, belly, chest, and chin. He has tufts of black fur on his ears also. No other color is on his pelt either on his short or long fur. He really is very handsome.
Storm's build is medium, not stocky but definately not slim either. His paws are large and powerful. He is on the larger side and a formidable opponant in battle, also fearsome to look at. He is very compact, hitting him is like hitting a brick wall and he will regard you as much as a brick wall also.
Storm's eyes are very very dark brown, almost black. His whiskers and nose are both black. His claws, strangely enough, are white, though no one who has seen them has lived to tell about them, it is a secret that only he and the ones he has killed know.
Actions: Storm is fierce and unsympathetic to anything. His heart is has turned to stone over the harsh treatment he has recieved during the past. He is firm and commanding in nature, bossy and not one to be messed with. He won't think twice about lashing out at anyone who mistreats him. He is bold, fearless, and bloodthirsty, fighting only to kill, not to wound. You don't know cruelty until you know him. When enraged his eyes seem to have a reddish tint to them and his fur stands on end to such an extent that he looks over twice his size, which is truely terrifying. He likes others to fear him and listen to him, though he can honor a cat if he or she can beat him in a fight, which is very rarely. He can be very loyal to a leader when he puts his quick mind to it.
Past: Storm was born in a clan, his mother was a loner and his father was a clanner. He was teased more than once in his kit hood about not knowing his mother for when he was a little kit his mother gave him to his father to take to the clan. He was the only kit that survived the harsh conditions that he was born in. The cold relentless wind is said to have chilled his very heart. He was nearly frozen to death when his father made it back to the camp with him. During his kithood, as I said, he was teased about not knowing his mother and also about his bloodlines. He was excluded from any games that the other kits played and no queen would count him as her own, though one allowed him to nurse with her own until he was old enough to be weaned.
When he became an apprentice he was glad to be away from the whisperings of the queens and kits. But he soon found that he would rather have stayed a kit. He had a harsh and cruel mentor, unyielding and fierce. He was plunged into this new world, getting battered and bruised with no one to care if he was, even the medicine cat, though she did what she had to, did not appreciate him. He grew, learning slowly and even now being barred from any games the other apprentices had. But he was finding that he didn't care as much anymore, why should he? He was better than them and one day he would show them.
Becoming a warrior was the proudest day of his life, for now he could prove himself to be the greatest and strongest warrior that he was. No one dared to tease him now, else they would feel the sting of his teeth and claws. In a battle that his clan fought they were greatly outnumbered, and though he had been in many fights he had seen nothing like this. He dealt out blows as he recieved them but he could feel himself slipping, and eventually he did. The great Storm was killed, but only to come back to haunt those who had wronged him, those who had only been protected before by his loyalty to his old leader.
Codewords: poison tears crash down
Other: Hope you like him! =)
Gender: tom
Age: 14 moons
Clan: Tribe of Nightmares
Rank: warrior
Looks: Storm is completely and utterly black. His fur is short though slightly longer on his tail, belly, chest, and chin. He has tufts of black fur on his ears also. No other color is on his pelt either on his short or long fur. He really is very handsome.
Storm's build is medium, not stocky but definately not slim either. His paws are large and powerful. He is on the larger side and a formidable opponant in battle, also fearsome to look at. He is very compact, hitting him is like hitting a brick wall and he will regard you as much as a brick wall also.
Storm's eyes are very very dark brown, almost black. His whiskers and nose are both black. His claws, strangely enough, are white, though no one who has seen them has lived to tell about them, it is a secret that only he and the ones he has killed know.
Actions: Storm is fierce and unsympathetic to anything. His heart is has turned to stone over the harsh treatment he has recieved during the past. He is firm and commanding in nature, bossy and not one to be messed with. He won't think twice about lashing out at anyone who mistreats him. He is bold, fearless, and bloodthirsty, fighting only to kill, not to wound. You don't know cruelty until you know him. When enraged his eyes seem to have a reddish tint to them and his fur stands on end to such an extent that he looks over twice his size, which is truely terrifying. He likes others to fear him and listen to him, though he can honor a cat if he or she can beat him in a fight, which is very rarely. He can be very loyal to a leader when he puts his quick mind to it.
Past: Storm was born in a clan, his mother was a loner and his father was a clanner. He was teased more than once in his kit hood about not knowing his mother for when he was a little kit his mother gave him to his father to take to the clan. He was the only kit that survived the harsh conditions that he was born in. The cold relentless wind is said to have chilled his very heart. He was nearly frozen to death when his father made it back to the camp with him. During his kithood, as I said, he was teased about not knowing his mother and also about his bloodlines. He was excluded from any games that the other kits played and no queen would count him as her own, though one allowed him to nurse with her own until he was old enough to be weaned.
When he became an apprentice he was glad to be away from the whisperings of the queens and kits. But he soon found that he would rather have stayed a kit. He had a harsh and cruel mentor, unyielding and fierce. He was plunged into this new world, getting battered and bruised with no one to care if he was, even the medicine cat, though she did what she had to, did not appreciate him. He grew, learning slowly and even now being barred from any games the other apprentices had. But he was finding that he didn't care as much anymore, why should he? He was better than them and one day he would show them.
Becoming a warrior was the proudest day of his life, for now he could prove himself to be the greatest and strongest warrior that he was. No one dared to tease him now, else they would feel the sting of his teeth and claws. In a battle that his clan fought they were greatly outnumbered, and though he had been in many fights he had seen nothing like this. He dealt out blows as he recieved them but he could feel himself slipping, and eventually he did. The great Storm was killed, but only to come back to haunt those who had wronged him, those who had only been protected before by his loyalty to his old leader.
Codewords: poison tears crash down
Other: Hope you like him! =)
