Post by NapkinGhost on Mar 8, 2010 22:49:04 GMT -5
Picture :i52.photobucket.com/albums/g16/ForTheLuvaDIRT/DSC_0183.jpg
Name : Ashenpelt
Gender : Tom-cat
Age : 24 moons
Clan : GlacierClan
Rank : Warrior
Description : He is creamy brown with black/dark brown flecks and stripes in Mackerel Tabby patterns. A stream of creamy brown fur stretches from under his chin and ends in the middle of his tummy. He is of a small and long build, with narrow but sturdy shoulders. He has long lanky legs that give him a clumsy appearance when he is walking, but a graceful one when he is running. His nose is all black except for in the middle, where it's a very dark pink. He has three scars running down the inside length of his left front leg. His eyes have dark-colored markings around them, making him look like he has eyeliner. He has several holes through his right ear from when a bird attacked him and pecked through his ear. His eyes are yellow fading inwards to a light green.
Personality : --Loyal, trustworthy, ambitious, affectionate, short-tempered at times, with a strong sense of justice.--
He is a very amiable cat when he wants to be, but sometimes his temper gets the best of him. When his temper does get the best of him, though, he always tries to redirect it and will scratch trees, bite leaves off bushes, snap twigs under his paws and rip grass to shreds. He is always thinking of his clan and often dreams of becoming the clan deputy, though he feels that with his temper he would not make a good one. He still likes to imagine, though, and spends a lot of his time day-dreaming about battles and all sorts of noble doings. He hates to see cats disobey the warrior code, which makes him very cold towards rogues, loners and kittypets. He likes kittens, however, no matter where they come from and even allows them to use his tail as a play toy, though his annoyance at this can sometimes make him rough with them. He is very curious when it comes to other animals, paying close attention to how prey acts on its own when he is stalking it. He observes the more dangerous animals like foxes and badgers from trees while he waits for it to be safe to climb down and warn the clan. He especially likes foxes, and admires their Autumn colored pelts. He hates badgers, however, and simply cannot stand them for their grumpy, growling attitude seems to be a reflection of himself when he first wakes up in the morning.
History : He was late in becoming a warrior due to his temper as an apprentice. His mentor continued to try to teach him to control it, and said that he would never become a warrior unless he either learned to snuff it completely or redirect it. Ashenpelt simply could not learn to swallow his anger and instead began to redirect it at trees, bushes and other objects. His temper at that age, however, was always flaring, and it ended up with him having to train nearly twice as hard as most apprentices. It was 17 moons before he got his warrior name, and even then he'd had to beg his mentor to agree that he was ready. His mentor gave in, grudgingly, and said that it was time for him to become a warrior. Several hours before Ashenpelt became a warrior, his mentor took him to the training spot one last time.
"This," his mentor had said. "Is the last time we will enter here as mentor and apprentice, and I bring you here not to train you, but tell you something my mentor told me before I became a warrior. 'The journey to change begins with a pawstep, but before taking that pawstep, it is always better to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts."
At the time, Ashenpelt had yawned, and meowed an uncaring OK.
Several moons later, his mentor died, and his loss made Ashenpelt feel just how much his mentor had clung to the words and he soon began to cling to the words himself. Everyday, he would pause before leaving the warriors den and take in a deep breath and release it slowly. When he began to do this, all his clanmates noticed the change in his attitude. He became more friendly, and hardly snapped at all.
He has fought only two battles as of yet, one against a rogue cat, and another against an especially large crow.
The fight with the rogue had led to him having three long permanent scars running down the inside of his front left leg, and the fight with the crow had earned him three holes through his ear.
As a kitten, he was the only one of his four siblings to survive the rough birth. His father had died several days before Ashenpelts birth, and his mother was always feeling the loss of her mate and her four kittens. She raised Ashenpelt with as well as she could, but she didn't really feel any love for her kitten, and tried to hide her lack of affection from him. It was a relief to her that he never really noticed she didn't quite care for him. Upon finding her death was fast-approaching, she realized that she did indeed love him with all of her heart and was glad to find he loved her just as much. She died from a severe wound inflicted to her by a dog, and her last breath was spent telling Ashenpelt (He was newly apprenticed Ashenpaw at the time, though.) how much she loved him, and how proud he'd made her. Ashenpelt mourned over her for around a moon afterward, but then, remembering how happy she was before her death, decided to move on
Relationships : His mentor, Goldenheart, was his closest friend, even though they had fought a lot. He is a one-eyed ginger tom with a lot of scars showing through his orange and cream striped fur and was already old and in his last years when he was training Ashenpelt.
Role-Play : Woodspirit crept through the woods, freezing from time to time whenever her belly rumbled with hunger. It sounded like such a loud growl to her that she feared it would scare away the prey. Her yellow-green eyes were wide, and glinted in the moonlight as she stalked a rabbit. Her hunger made her careless, and a twig snapped underneath her paw.
The rabbit darted towards its burrow, Woodspirit rushing behind it. She ran as fast as she could, her hunger driving her to speeds even she didn't know she had. Rather suddenly, she tripped over a rock, and went flying forward, hitting into the rabbit, and ending up in a bush with the dazed creature on top of her. She took the chance to snap its neck in her jaws, and got up holding the rabbit from its ears, purring with pride.
She paused for a moment, her eyes wide and her ears perked. She thought she heard cats in the distance. Forgetting to put down her rabbit, she walked through the bushes, her fur bristling, her back arched, and grinding the rabbit in her tightened jaws.
She jumped through the bushes, ready to face enemy cats, but then found it to be the clan deputy and one of her clanmates whose name she could not remember. She had the feeling that she had walked in on a special moment, and she immediately dropped into an apologetic crouch.
"Sorry to just charge in like that!" she mewed, staring at the floor in her embarrassment. "I heard you and thought you might be enemy cats and...." she was at a loss for words. "I was out hunting, you see, and..." she crouched lower, pressing herself to the ground and even flattened her ears to show her humbleness. Eventually, she pushed the rabbit towards the two other cats. "Want some?" she asked, cursing at herself inwardly for her lack of tact.
(Hope it's okay to use a sample from another site.)
Motto/Themesong : "Take a deep breath and step forward."
Name : Ashenpelt
Gender : Tom-cat
Age : 24 moons
Clan : GlacierClan
Rank : Warrior
Description : He is creamy brown with black/dark brown flecks and stripes in Mackerel Tabby patterns. A stream of creamy brown fur stretches from under his chin and ends in the middle of his tummy. He is of a small and long build, with narrow but sturdy shoulders. He has long lanky legs that give him a clumsy appearance when he is walking, but a graceful one when he is running. His nose is all black except for in the middle, where it's a very dark pink. He has three scars running down the inside length of his left front leg. His eyes have dark-colored markings around them, making him look like he has eyeliner. He has several holes through his right ear from when a bird attacked him and pecked through his ear. His eyes are yellow fading inwards to a light green.
Personality : --Loyal, trustworthy, ambitious, affectionate, short-tempered at times, with a strong sense of justice.--
He is a very amiable cat when he wants to be, but sometimes his temper gets the best of him. When his temper does get the best of him, though, he always tries to redirect it and will scratch trees, bite leaves off bushes, snap twigs under his paws and rip grass to shreds. He is always thinking of his clan and often dreams of becoming the clan deputy, though he feels that with his temper he would not make a good one. He still likes to imagine, though, and spends a lot of his time day-dreaming about battles and all sorts of noble doings. He hates to see cats disobey the warrior code, which makes him very cold towards rogues, loners and kittypets. He likes kittens, however, no matter where they come from and even allows them to use his tail as a play toy, though his annoyance at this can sometimes make him rough with them. He is very curious when it comes to other animals, paying close attention to how prey acts on its own when he is stalking it. He observes the more dangerous animals like foxes and badgers from trees while he waits for it to be safe to climb down and warn the clan. He especially likes foxes, and admires their Autumn colored pelts. He hates badgers, however, and simply cannot stand them for their grumpy, growling attitude seems to be a reflection of himself when he first wakes up in the morning.
History : He was late in becoming a warrior due to his temper as an apprentice. His mentor continued to try to teach him to control it, and said that he would never become a warrior unless he either learned to snuff it completely or redirect it. Ashenpelt simply could not learn to swallow his anger and instead began to redirect it at trees, bushes and other objects. His temper at that age, however, was always flaring, and it ended up with him having to train nearly twice as hard as most apprentices. It was 17 moons before he got his warrior name, and even then he'd had to beg his mentor to agree that he was ready. His mentor gave in, grudgingly, and said that it was time for him to become a warrior. Several hours before Ashenpelt became a warrior, his mentor took him to the training spot one last time.
"This," his mentor had said. "Is the last time we will enter here as mentor and apprentice, and I bring you here not to train you, but tell you something my mentor told me before I became a warrior. 'The journey to change begins with a pawstep, but before taking that pawstep, it is always better to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts."
At the time, Ashenpelt had yawned, and meowed an uncaring OK.
Several moons later, his mentor died, and his loss made Ashenpelt feel just how much his mentor had clung to the words and he soon began to cling to the words himself. Everyday, he would pause before leaving the warriors den and take in a deep breath and release it slowly. When he began to do this, all his clanmates noticed the change in his attitude. He became more friendly, and hardly snapped at all.
He has fought only two battles as of yet, one against a rogue cat, and another against an especially large crow.
The fight with the rogue had led to him having three long permanent scars running down the inside of his front left leg, and the fight with the crow had earned him three holes through his ear.
As a kitten, he was the only one of his four siblings to survive the rough birth. His father had died several days before Ashenpelts birth, and his mother was always feeling the loss of her mate and her four kittens. She raised Ashenpelt with as well as she could, but she didn't really feel any love for her kitten, and tried to hide her lack of affection from him. It was a relief to her that he never really noticed she didn't quite care for him. Upon finding her death was fast-approaching, she realized that she did indeed love him with all of her heart and was glad to find he loved her just as much. She died from a severe wound inflicted to her by a dog, and her last breath was spent telling Ashenpelt (He was newly apprenticed Ashenpaw at the time, though.) how much she loved him, and how proud he'd made her. Ashenpelt mourned over her for around a moon afterward, but then, remembering how happy she was before her death, decided to move on
Relationships : His mentor, Goldenheart, was his closest friend, even though they had fought a lot. He is a one-eyed ginger tom with a lot of scars showing through his orange and cream striped fur and was already old and in his last years when he was training Ashenpelt.
Role-Play : Woodspirit crept through the woods, freezing from time to time whenever her belly rumbled with hunger. It sounded like such a loud growl to her that she feared it would scare away the prey. Her yellow-green eyes were wide, and glinted in the moonlight as she stalked a rabbit. Her hunger made her careless, and a twig snapped underneath her paw.
The rabbit darted towards its burrow, Woodspirit rushing behind it. She ran as fast as she could, her hunger driving her to speeds even she didn't know she had. Rather suddenly, she tripped over a rock, and went flying forward, hitting into the rabbit, and ending up in a bush with the dazed creature on top of her. She took the chance to snap its neck in her jaws, and got up holding the rabbit from its ears, purring with pride.
She paused for a moment, her eyes wide and her ears perked. She thought she heard cats in the distance. Forgetting to put down her rabbit, she walked through the bushes, her fur bristling, her back arched, and grinding the rabbit in her tightened jaws.
She jumped through the bushes, ready to face enemy cats, but then found it to be the clan deputy and one of her clanmates whose name she could not remember. She had the feeling that she had walked in on a special moment, and she immediately dropped into an apologetic crouch.
"Sorry to just charge in like that!" she mewed, staring at the floor in her embarrassment. "I heard you and thought you might be enemy cats and...." she was at a loss for words. "I was out hunting, you see, and..." she crouched lower, pressing herself to the ground and even flattened her ears to show her humbleness. Eventually, she pushed the rabbit towards the two other cats. "Want some?" she asked, cursing at herself inwardly for her lack of tact.
(Hope it's okay to use a sample from another site.)
Motto/Themesong : "Take a deep breath and step forward."
