Post by bubbles on Nov 23, 2008 21:30:58 GMT -5
[ Sorry but this is the only one I have. ]
Name:
Sorrelpaw
[ Sorrelwing ]
Gender:
Tom
Age:
8 Moons
Clan:
RainClan
Rank:
Apprentice
Description:
I am very handsome, no doubt about it. My light brown fur is marbled and spotted with black, and some darker browns. My muzzle is white, and my nose a dusty pink. I'm thin, with normal sized limbs. I'm very average build-wise, at least. My eyes are pale green, which reminds me quite a lot of my mother. I am usually described as a sorrel-spotted tom, but as you can see, I'm much better looking than that. My tail is the only odd thing about me, casually longer than a normal cat my size.
Personality:
I'm thingyy, arrogant, and rude. And I am not afraid to say it. I think of myself higher than any other, even though I shouldn't have a right to think so. I find myself challenging everything a cat with a higher rank than me says, just to see if I can win in the argument or not. I get into trouble easily, and am sent into the Elder's Den to do work for them. However, I can be quite charming when I need be. I show the elders my warm side, that I'm just a lonely kit without his parents, and they melt at my paws. It's only too easy. She-cats are another specific cat I charm. Leaders, deputies, medicine cats, apprentices, warriors, even kits, I flirt with if they are of the she-cat breed. I don't specifically care for a particular one, I just find one that attracts me, and surround her like a hawk and it's prey. Shy ones are especially fun. To tell you the truth, I barely get along with any toms. I'm not sure why, but I feel the need to show off to them, to prove that I can, and will, be better than them. And it's without a doubt I have the potential. I think of retorts fast, and learn quickly, but I use this skill negatively, instead of applying it to my apprenticeship.
Kin:
Mother: Brownfoot
[ Deceased ]
Father: Spottedtail
[ Deceased ]
No kits or siblings.
Mate/Crush:
Ahahah. Ha.
History:
Sorrelkit[/u]
I sat in the Nursery, shielded from the screeches of battlecry, by a shivering tom warrior. My mother lay dead beside me, while my father was slowly dying before my eyes. Beetlefur attempted to shield my eyes, as he was shielding my body, but I forced my way around him to see my father's last breath. But I felt no grief. And it scared me. It scared me in a way no amount of battle, or killing, or slaughtering would. I did not feel pain. I shook, and Beetlefur comforted me, in a motherly way. "You are a tom. Why are you here, instead of in the battle?" I ask, staring up into his abnormally large blue eyes. He stared at me a moment, shrugged, and resumed his position guarding me. I knew why, because the love for my mother pulled on him, and he wanted to save me, save the living, breathing, image of Brownfoot.[/blockquote]
Since he is an apprentice, I did not include history for that.
