Thu Jun 05, 2014 10:28 am by Guest
Name: Frostear
Age: 27 moons, 2 years 3 months.
Gender: Male
Alliance: Thunderclan
Rank: Warrior
Appearance: A dark brown mackerel tabby, with soulful amber eyes. Has scar across bridge of nose from accident as apprentice, and many small scars from battles, scattered all over his body, most noticeably his forelegs and shoulders.
Personality: Headstrong. Very, very headstrong. The above accident mentioned was from being too headstrong. He is loving and caring, but will often lash out if you make him mad. He is very good with kits, and can often be found in the nursery, helping the queens, or doing chores until they are fit for duty. If he is involved in a confrontation, he will fight for his friends and family, not caring if he's hopelessly outnumbered.
History: Born into Thunderclan with a rouge as a father, he believed he was full-blooded Clan cat. He eventually found out the truth, and went off to find his lost father. He found him deep outside clan territory, and got the full truth. After that, he was different. He grew up in more ways than one.
Role Play Example
Frostear stealthily snuck through the bushes, his keen eyes searching out any movement. His ears were pricked, to ensure any sound reached them. Far off in the distance, a single wolf howled his mournful song of sadness and loneliness. Above this, Frostear heard the small squeak that alerted him to a large mouse. Mouth watering, he silently and lightly moved into position, a ghost among the shadows. He pounced, and sunk his teeth into the mouse's neck. He muttered a few words of thanks to Starclan, picked up the mouse, and headed back the way he came. Along the way, he allowed his thoughts to wander, drifting back to the long journey many moons ago. Frostear had been born into Thunderclan, but had a rouge as a father. "Good for nothing piece of fox-dung!" He hissed under his breath. His father had claimed he loved his dead mother, yet ran off when he was born. Nobody knew the truth but him- and he planned to keep it that way. Yeah, his mother died of greencough about a moon after his departure, and he was saddened. But his sadness was overwhelmed by the anger- anger towards his father. He would find him, and kill him. Upon arriving at the camp, Frostear put the lone mouse on the fresh-kill pile, and padded off towards his den to plot the downfall of his father. It was said he had claws so sharp, they had to have been made by Starclan themselves! But Frostear knew better. He was just a frail old man, and he had made the biggest mistake of them all- let him know where he was. Frostear smiled evilly, then set out on another hunt- this time, for an old rouge.
((Yes, I do have experience in things like this. No, I have not been here before.))
Age: 27 moons, 2 years 3 months.
Gender: Male
Alliance: Thunderclan
Rank: Warrior
Appearance: A dark brown mackerel tabby, with soulful amber eyes. Has scar across bridge of nose from accident as apprentice, and many small scars from battles, scattered all over his body, most noticeably his forelegs and shoulders.
Personality: Headstrong. Very, very headstrong. The above accident mentioned was from being too headstrong. He is loving and caring, but will often lash out if you make him mad. He is very good with kits, and can often be found in the nursery, helping the queens, or doing chores until they are fit for duty. If he is involved in a confrontation, he will fight for his friends and family, not caring if he's hopelessly outnumbered.
History: Born into Thunderclan with a rouge as a father, he believed he was full-blooded Clan cat. He eventually found out the truth, and went off to find his lost father. He found him deep outside clan territory, and got the full truth. After that, he was different. He grew up in more ways than one.
Role Play Example
Frostear stealthily snuck through the bushes, his keen eyes searching out any movement. His ears were pricked, to ensure any sound reached them. Far off in the distance, a single wolf howled his mournful song of sadness and loneliness. Above this, Frostear heard the small squeak that alerted him to a large mouse. Mouth watering, he silently and lightly moved into position, a ghost among the shadows. He pounced, and sunk his teeth into the mouse's neck. He muttered a few words of thanks to Starclan, picked up the mouse, and headed back the way he came. Along the way, he allowed his thoughts to wander, drifting back to the long journey many moons ago. Frostear had been born into Thunderclan, but had a rouge as a father. "Good for nothing piece of fox-dung!" He hissed under his breath. His father had claimed he loved his dead mother, yet ran off when he was born. Nobody knew the truth but him- and he planned to keep it that way. Yeah, his mother died of greencough about a moon after his departure, and he was saddened. But his sadness was overwhelmed by the anger- anger towards his father. He would find him, and kill him. Upon arriving at the camp, Frostear put the lone mouse on the fresh-kill pile, and padded off towards his den to plot the downfall of his father. It was said he had claws so sharp, they had to have been made by Starclan themselves! But Frostear knew better. He was just a frail old man, and he had made the biggest mistake of them all- let him know where he was. Frostear smiled evilly, then set out on another hunt- this time, for an old rouge.
((Yes, I do have experience in things like this. No, I have not been here before.))
