{Maelstrom} ~ Rouge

[[whispers] in the .[wind].]

{A mirror image}

{My parents agreed on Maelstrom}

{StarClan blessed me as a Male}

{My has beaten for 20 Moons}

{I have wandered with nobody}

{My talents have granted me the status of a rouge}

{Let me paint you a picture}

In the blackness of the shadows, what was that in the edge of the eyes? A flicker of movement, a speck of light, a sound if a branch crunching underfoot. Well then meet Maelstrom, I'm sure you guys will be great friends. If he doesn't ripe for pelt out off your flesh. Maelstrom fur is like a sea of ebony waters, in a shadow he seems to have a endless pelt. The only thing that will show him away is a two, silver pools of glittering liquid with pin-point lines of oily, black slits. His tail seems to be like a feather-duster that had been dipped in ink and surgically attached to his rump. It fine arching plum is the envy of vain cats who pride themselves in there fine, silky hair. His short hair is hardly groomed, and it's often to tufts of black hair stick out of his pelt, uneven, and full of burrs. Underneath his matted hair and scarred skin. He has a thick muscle line. Which ripples like an azure wave on a sapphire abyss, except the oceans color is midnight black. He is almost all ebony, the only thing that isn't black, which is his two silver eyes. Even his claws are onyx blades, all twisted and elongated. He uses them to tear into bellies and slice fat from flesh. His lean body barely has a belly even. His lanky body just has enough fat to get past the bones, but just that.

{I have a unique attitude}

If you ever have a conversation with Maelstrom, which is unlikely. It's more likely that he'll skin you and use the fur as an extra coat during wintertimes. His voice is coarse with bitterness, sarcasm, and is downright cold. His voice forms words, which form sentences, which he uses to cut cats down. One of the things he likes to do is be the herald of ill tidings. He likes to watch felines days crushed under his iron paw. he loves to have control in his little, warped mind, but theres something down there. Deep down, you may been industrial-sized digging machines to do it. Yet there is a tiny speck of hope, a little flare of light in the darkness of the black caves of his soul. If some wandering stranger to bring down the hard, enamel coating of rock and stone that covers his heart and soul. It will take a lot of chipping, conversations, and going out of your comfort zone like a bold explorer... just be don't be killed by the feral animals. If someone braves the depths of his soul, and Maelstrom can survive a conversation that lasts five and a half minutes. He might just get a friend, also known as a cat he has met that he hasn't left behind or killed.

{This is my story}

This feline has a feisty past, filled with things that were unblemished times, and some deeply scarred. It all started in a little den, with a father cat, and a mother cat, and a very worried medicine kitty. His mother was a female of the feline species, and named Eagleheather. While his father, the male, was named Ramstone. Eagleheather's dappling pelt was filled with crimson blood, which meant something wasn't that good. Another thing that signaled something went a little wrong was Eagleheather dropped dead soon after the birth, and only one kitten survived. That little kitten was named Survivalkit. That seemed to scar him, and unintentionally set him on a path which he wished he had not survived. Survivalkit was given to the only queen in the ArticClan's nursery, who died sortly later of a icicle to the head. His next foster-queen died also, struggling in the frigid, murky waters until her limbs became numb and her head went under too long. This gave him the reputation of a cursed item, just an infectious patch of moss nobody wants to enjoy. His next foster queen kept her distance, only feeding him, and even made him sleep far away, in the coldness, it must have gripped onto his heart like the artic, northern winds. Desolate and dejected, Survivalkit was never allowed to play, all he did was sit in a corner and stare at a wall. He soon became Survivalpaw, and was given to a mentor named Jackelfoot, who twisted his mind through sweet words, and promises. You see Jacklefoot wanted power, and he had seen promise in Survivalpaw, and rigged the deaths so Survivalpaw will have a meloncoly past. He recruited his apprentice into a plot, to overthrough the leader. Yet Jacklefoot made a mistake, he nearly... NEARLY killed one of his members who wanted to back out. The cat found Survivalpaw, and told him everything, knowing it would get him the last laugh. Survivalpaw did it and told everything to a local gang of rouges Jacklefoot had allied with. They fought a bloodly battle which many things happened. The rebels disbanded and ran for the hills. Jacklefoot fled and is now dead in his old, secluded cave. Plus one thing happened that created Maelstrom. Survivalpaw ran, north-east in fact, which meant he accidently fell off a cliff into an artic stream. He didn't die, but was knocked cold, and floated deep into rouge lands. He remembered nothing when he woke up. ALl he felt was a cold feeling gripping him, now he lives as the maker of bad lifes, the smith of ill times.

{By bond and by blood}

Eaglefeather - Mother - Dead
Ramstone - Father - Unknown
Fostermother 01 - Dead
Fostermother 02 - Dead
Fostermother 03 - Unknown
Jacklefoot - Mentor - Dead

{Watch me play}

{Words to live by}

"I don't believe in good luck, I believe in making other people have bad luck" ~ Maelstrom

[--|Sootie|--]

xx accepted