ＤＩＳＰＵＴＥ [[ ℓιтєяαтє ωαяяισяѕ яρg ;; closed ]]

[111misc]

{So, I decided I hate my Minnow character. I'm starting over, so if anyone wants that name, it's free again. ^^ I'm just reserving Iron, Ember, and for a loner, Reed

[111misc]

xxx
♒ { i r o n f u r } . { m a l e } . { w a r r i o r } . { g r a v e } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu

{.{ n a m e }.}

Ironfur

{.{ d e s i r e d . n a m e }.}

He has his warrior name, and there's only one more he'd like to add to his collection...

{.{ g e n d e r }.}

A handsome tom

{.{ a g e }.}

A senior warrior at fifty seven moons

{.{ r a n k }.}

He's a senior warrior

{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

Ironfur has always wished to be deputy

тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Ironfur was named aptly, for just his name describes his coat and appearance. A steely gray tom, big boned and massive looking, covered in flowing grey-blue fur, a common coat for his clan, and a very lovely one, Ironfur no doubt looks intimidating. His build is somewhere between a bear and a tsunami, giant for a cat and burly. Dangerous. The muscles in his legs and shoulders, as well as a strong jaw, are the most pronounced features he he, rippling under his grey pelt. Ironclaw, or Ironbone, would have been appropriate for the cat as well, with hard fangs and claws and thick bones. He towers over cats younger and older then him, and even as his mature age advances, speed and strength have yet to leave him. Ironfur's eyes are an intense contrast from his muted grey coat. A bright, luminous gold, yellow as the sun as it streams down onto the hot bronze sand, Ironfur's eyes are round and large. When narrowed and glaring, they become scorching, and when smiling, they glitter like gold and are just as inviting.
He's not the most handsome cat, despite these quant qualities. He's just a giant grey cat with yellow eyes. His fangs are a bit crooked, and more then a few scars mar his body. Five small scratches etch his muzzle, there's a notch in his ear, and a long white scar shines on the inside of his back leg. His stomach is ripped apart, under his grey fur, from a fight when he was a young warrior, and another cat belly-raked him. It's healed, but still looks ghoulish. With a deep, bass voice, lower then the thunder that roars over the ocean at midnight, along with the striking stature and long shadow he throws from his hight and girth, Ironfur is a mature warrior. Stocky legs and large paws keep his balance in a fight, and fangs long and pointed aid his endeavors, whether hunting or battling. He has a thick neck, covered in a mane of geryish blue fur, and a long, bottlebrush tail, that, for the most part, is bound to have dirt and sand caught in it's strands.

{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

A dark steely grey, with blue tints.

{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

A giant cat, strong looking and immense. Scars are all about his person, and he doesn't look that fast, just seemingly in possession of brute strength and experience.

{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Large, rounded, and a bright golden yellow. It actually doesn't really go with his coat color, and looks a bit strange, but they shine in the dark, and they're rather unique.

ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

There are many words to describe Ironfur. The most common of them being grave, solemn, dark, quiet, mysterious. Those are the ones that come so easily to him, it's hard for him not to show it, not to let those emotions flow from his dark pelt and create an aura of sorrow and depth around him, like a blanket, like a shield. But there are also happier adjectives; clever, loving, loyal, sympathetic, brave, noble, soft-hearted, strong. These are all qualities that give Ironfur some of what really makes him, him. But there is a single word that describes him beyond any comprehension. And no one knows what that word is, besides himself.

Tortured.

Secrets and lies have made Ironfur the cat he is today, and that cat is a dark, grave character. Hardly does a smile cross his lips in a conversation, and only if he really knows you, really cares for you, will he grace you with one. It's a shame, he's handsome when he smiles. Ironfur, as a result of his closed demeanor, can become, easily, to another cat, just a faceless tom. They can stop caring easily about him, because he never gives anyone reasons to care. He prefers not to. If there is a single thing Ironfur hates the most, it is pity. It is pity that he despises, for it makes him feel weak and small. It makes him feel like a kit again, back in the days of his youth, the days and the memories that still give him nightmares, even as a matured, strong warrior. It's these memories and conflicting emotions that make him so somber, so morose. They plague his mind constantly. It's hard for him just to get a single moment of peace, a single moment of happiness. And those rare and much treasured seconds come along only when he is with one he really trusts, really loves.

Love is a hard thing for Ironfur to come by. It takes a lot of time, a lot of patience, and a lot of luck. There have been two cats in his life he has loved, before, and both turned out badly for him. So, maybe a brighter, happier cat would ask, whispering as they watched the large cat pad out of camp, how annoying it is that Ironfur never smiles, or that he always seems to look like the end of the world is near, that every decision is the turning point of his life; that he treats everything and everyone with so much gravity...but it's because experience has taught him that is what he must do. Life forced the innocence out of him.

Ironfur used to be happy, too. That's the worst part, that before the events that changed him happened, he was naive and innocent, and kind. Smiles were abundant and laughter was first nature to him. But he was young then, and he was truly alive with youth and innocent joy. And now he has aged. Now, Ironfur has become the cat he is destined to remain for the rest of his life: a morose, dreary creature, with only intermittent spells of true joy like the joy he once felt so long ago.

Another huge quality to Ironfur is his ambition. It's not a bad type, not the type where he wants to take over the entire world, but he has ambition. He has that need, that want, that tug in his heart to be better, to have power and to excersize it. He thinks--no, he knows, that if he was more powerful, he could do so much more. He could help others more efficiently, and he could do good. For Ironfur, life is all about doing the best he can do, now. He must redeem himself for his past actions, when he was an apprentice, and the messes he got himself into. He wants to be the best; but not for selfish reasons. He wants to be remembered as a kind, good cat. And to do that, he needs power.

It's not that he is always depressed and dreary. Iron doesn't want to die, doesn't obsess in his mind thoughts of revenge or grief or hatred...no, it's not that. It's just, sometimes you can't run away from your memories, no matter how hard you try. So many times the tom has tried to start over, tried to be more friendly and happy and joyful, but his mind is too heavy for his heart to bare, and he cannot forget. When he does, a feeling of guilt extinguishes any happiness he felt prior to it, it eats away at him...because, in his heart of hearts, the problem is not that Ironfur cannot forget his past to embrace his future, it's that he doesn't want to.

{.{ l i k e s }.}

sunrises
midnight
nights of no moon
leaf bare
beautiful she-cats, especially ones with pale fur
hunting crab
the scent of lilies
his clan
the good memories he possess

{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

midday
loud, obnoxious cats
most of his memories as a young cat, in general his life when he was younger
his family
his ex mate
a certain loner that shall remain unnamed
thunderstorms
fighting
asking for help or showing signs of weakness
proud or smug cats
the idea of death

{.{ f e a r s }.}

There is only a single thing Sharkwhisker is terrified of, and that is the truth. That someday, the truth about himself will come out, and everyone will know who he is. What he is.

{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

Running
Doing anything for a long period of time
Being sociable
Hunting birds
Getting over grudges

{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

Fighting with his strength
Hunting fish and crab
Thinking
Being patient, especially in a trying situation
Being resourceful

fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

Ironfur was born a clan cat, by his mother, Blossomtide. His father, Surftail, died before he was born in a battle against loners who were passing through Seaclans territory, and were taking prey. Ironfur grew up, his first few moons, happy, and was told all about his courageous father in stories from his mother. He had a brother, Bronzekit, as well, who eventually turned into Bronzepaw, but he died before becoming a warrior. They grew up, when they were young, playing and laughing. It was when he was seven moons old Blossomtide fell ill to Greencough. When she died, they were almost apprentices, and it was strange, having to leave the nursery, having to begin a whole new faze in their lives, without the mother who was always by their side. It was when he was nine moons old the unthinkable happened. When Ironfur found out the truth, not only about who he was, and who his family was, but about what he had to do to save his life. To save his soul. I'm refraining from details, because I don't want it to be common knowledge what Ironfur went through. What I can tell you is that he grew a hatred, no, deeper then hatred: an antipathy for loners, a distrust to those around him that he thought before he could trust, and he lost the easiness to his smile.
When he was a young warrior, just twenty moons, he became mates with a young she-cat, a white cat called Pondfeather. He, over his apprentice years, slowly but surely began to trust her, and by the end of their time as apprentices, was sharing with her his most private thoughts--all but his deepest fears and past. He shared with her everything else, though, his thoughts on the clan, on Tidestar, on destiny and fate and love and loss. His emotions on the death of his family and his opinions on practically anything. She listened, and would reward him with the same information. They were both deep and loving, and he really cared for her, more then any cat he had known, practically. Unfortunately, he loved her too much, and trusted her too much. Ironfur put too much of his faith in Pondfeather, idolized her to a point where he thought she would never desert him or betray him, to the point where he thought they would love each other forever. So he told her the truth about his past, about part of it, anyway. It shattered the she-cat, made her almost hate her mate. Because it turned out he was a different cat then she'd known, the entire time. And she left him. It was betrayal to Sharkwhisker, and he doesn't talk about her much, these days. She died, too, the same way his brother went; drowning. And though they had wonderful times together, the memory of his first mate still makes the tom cringe with hatred and sorrow.

{.{ m a t e }.}

His first and last mate was Pondfeather. He has yet to trust any cat as much, and tends to hold back.

{.{ k i n }.}

His brother Bronzepaw, who died. His mother and father, Blossomtide and Surftail.

{.{ k i t s }.}

None

σuт σf cнαяαcтeя

{.{ u s e r n a m e }.}

c h e s s

{.{ n i c k n a me }.}

Chess works, or if you knew me as Misc I go by that, too. :3

{.{ o t h e r }.}

Nope.

♒ { r e e d } . { f e m a l e } . { r o g u e } . { l o n e l y } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu

{.{ n a m e }.}

Reed

{.{ d e s i r e d . n a m e }.}

Actually, Reed hates the clan, but if she ever were to join, her name would be changed to Dampreed, reed coming from her name, and Damp because it's water-y.

{.{ g e n d e r }.}

Female, of course. Despite her brown pelt, which can be associated with males commonly, and the rather butch name her parents bestowed upon her, Reed's female. Trust her on that one.

{.{ a g e }.}

A young twenty three moons. Agile and in her prime.

{.{ r a n k }.}

Reed's a rogue. She was never part of the clans, but she hates them and so her aggressiveness makes her a rogue, not a loner. Besides that, she associates with some of the kitty pets, and that makes her less of a loner.

{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

Reed doesn't know what she wants, but she doesn't want to be part of the clan, that's for sure.

тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Reed can seem a rather plain she-cat, especially when standing next to a brilliant tortoiseshell or snowy white goddess. Her brown fur is efficient, though, it's light, sandy-auburn hue blending in nicely with the reeds she was named for and even in sand, on darker days. Jet black tabby stripes, setting her light brown fur in contrast to make it appear almost ginger (but not quite) weave through her pelt. A brown tabby is a normal coat for a cat to have, pretty common, as a whole, but the rippling way her pelt moves on her and it's opposing tones, actually, looking at Reed for long enough, one could find her quite beautiful. Her body, too, seems plain at first glance, with average length legs and a medium coat, if not slightly short furred. Her muscles aren't trained, like that of a warriors, but are wiry and slightly feminine looking, for lack of the constant work clan cats go through. Her head is a pretty triangular shape, with a narrow muzzle and wide set, narrowed almond eyes. Reed inherited her mothers eyes, leafy green and warm. They're not bright or vibrant like some cats, and can seem muted and even dull, but if you look deep inside them you can see a few specks of gold and brown washed amongst their green depths. As a whole, Reed is a normal looking she-cat, to anyone who lays an eye on her; it takes time to get to know her, and once you do, you might find that she really is beautiful.

{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

A light brown tabby, short furred, and neat.

{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Lithe and wiry, rather feminine looking and an average hight.

{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

A soft, leafy green, muted and warm.

ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

Reed has layers. She's like a tree, with rings, with the widest one farthest out, until they get smaller and smaller towards the center. Tree's can grow and flourish, but the older they are, the more rings they get, the less their leaves shine, the more crooked their branches grow. Reed's like that. It's hard to tell how many "rings" she has from just looking at her, but she's had her fair share of suffering. Had her history. A sweet, and kind she-cat, she's flamboyant and bouncy on a normal day. Especially when she gets to talk to someone, which isn't often, with her lifestyle. A favorite past time of hers is swimming, in particular cannon-balling into a nice shallow pool and watching the splash. Her laugh is one of the best things about Reed; it's light and free, high pitched like birdsong, and sweet. She's not a sarcastic cat, and she doesn't get that type of dry humor, but loves a cat who understands her, understands that everything she says, weather in jest or in her deepest moments, is true. She hardly lies, Reed learned a long time ago that lies get you nowhere but trouble. And all they leave you with are regrets and tears. When she's upset though, or especially thoughtful, Reed is not just another vapid she-cat. She's deep. And a controlled sadness she has, all the time, for her life, sometimes she lets it loose, sometimes everything is too much and she can't control it, and she can cry for hours. Reed is like a philosopher; she thinks about things. Really thinks about them. Like why the seasons change, why cats die, where they go when they die, what life means, if the prey feels it when they die, if they think like she does, if anyone cares about her. Once, when she was smaller, she had no doubt in her mind that if she set herself to it, she could fly. So she climbed up a short tree while her mother was napping, and with confidence and a smile, flung herself off. She had a twisted paw and couldn't walk for a whole moon, but she healed, though her mind hardly matured. A part of Reed still thinks she could fly, if she wanted to.
Reed used to be one of a huge family. Her father, mother, two older twin brothers, her younger three sisters (she was in a litter by herself), her aunt, and her grandmother. In that order: Starfish, Seabird, Thistle and Thorn, Rose, Lily, and Tulip, Stormy, and Silver. They traveled in a family group, from place to place, hunkering down during the leaf bares to keep warm and then moving on during green leaf and new leaf, when they could be sustained. Reed and her family came here, one late leaf fall, into the territory, to stay for the season of cold. In the middle of it, though, in the center of the harshest winter she'd ever felt in all her seven moons (at the time), the other cats living in the area found out about them, and warned them to move on from their land, for they were taking their food. Reed had never heard of such a crazy notion! Their food? How could prey belong to someone? The earth was all of their home, wasn't it? That's what her mother had always taught her, to love your fellow cat, to share what you had with those less fortunate, to be a good friend and neighbor. Never take more than your share, and leave everything better than you found it. Well. Reed and her family, not wanting to be attacked, especially with the three kits, her younger sisters, there, and her, who was still a kitten, moved on. They walked for what felt like seasons, in circles, they couldn't find their way in the blizzards and snow. There was no prey. It was a fact. It was a barren wasteland outside the territorial cats land. One by one her smaller sisters died. First Rose, then Tulip, then Lily. They were all too weak. Thistle got sick, and he was gone overnight. Thorn, he was his brothers best friend. They did everything together, and it felt like he'd almost lost the will to live. Either way, his will didn't matter, he starved to death within the moon. Silver, her old frame emaciated, was next, and then Stormy, who'd been sick before, with whitecough. Seabird had watched five of her children die; she was starving, weak, almost insane...it was almost a gift when she was found cold with her eyes glazed over. An end to her pain. Starfish sobbed for days at her side, wouldn't even eat what Reed found; hardly anything, a rotten, dead mouse, and some roots to chew. He died at her side, and Reed was left. Alone. Isolated. Forgotten. Abandoned. She felt like dying, felt like it would be a blessing to be with all her family again....wherever they had gone and left her. But it was the end. And New Leaf almost within that same moon came back, and she survived. Because no matter how soft Reed looks, how small and babyish, how delicate and fragile; she's tough. She's a survivor. And she's proven it.
But her history was what made Reed who she is today. When she was younger, she was wracked with greif. Couldn't control her emotions and would cry herself to sleep as she curled up alone amongst the long grasses on the beach, cold and scared. Moons past, and her family's memory was lost to new struggles of the everyday. How to teach herself to hunt and fight, meeting friends and kittypets, avoiding the clan....above all, Reed refuses to forgive the clan, for what they've done to her and her family. They ruined it, were selfish and cruel and she doesn't, nor does she think she ever will, understand it. In her own vengeful opinion, the clan killed her family, and broke her. She will never forget that.
So she can be harsh and condescending, when feeling up to it, she can be quite the fighter, with a tongue of steel. She can hurt you, too, if she wants to, though she's never in her life gotten the chance, save a few scrimages with some unwanted kittypets who were hanging about her scavenging her catches. Reed's become, over the seasons, a creature of solitude. She hates it, wishes she could be her old, carefree self again, but she knows in the pit of her heart she'll never be able to go back.

{.{ l i k e s }.}

The ocean tides, at low tide, when she can go searching for crabs and cool shells
Bright, warm days when the sand's hot as stone
Some of her kittypet friends
Thinking of her family quietly
wild flowers

{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

The clan, more then anything
feeling hungry
blood
stormy days
two-legs
feeling alone

{.{ f e a r s }.}

Dying alone, with no one to care whether she's alive or not. With no one to mourn her.
Forgetting her family
Losing herself
Not being good enough to live on her own; depending on someone else

{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

She's not a great fighter, since she was never trained, and her hunting, though efficient enough, has no technique, only instinct, to it.

{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

Being quiet for long periods of time, jumping, swimming, and spying on others.

fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

...Oh, rats. I might have given it to you in her personality. Hehe...

{.{ m a t e }.}

None, though she wouldn't mind one. She gets rather lonely, at times.

{.{ k i n }.}

Her deceased family; her mother, Seabird, her father, Starfish, and the rest of her family, Tulip, Rose, Lily, Thistle, Thorn, Silver, and Stormy.

{.{ k i t s }.}

None

σuт σf cнαяαcтeя

{.{ u s e r n a m e }.}

c h e s s

{.{ n i c k n a me }.}

Chess works, or misc. Or anything, really ^^

{.{ o t h e r }.}

Nah'

{I've finished these two fella's, and
I'm still working on my Ember character. ^^}

[moonie,]

.~. w i p. keep the name jay pleaseeee<3?
S e α c ℓ α и .~.

♒ { jaypaw } . { she-cat } . { apparentice } . { eager } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu

{.{ name}.}

nice to meet you too! the name stands as jaypaw, yours is?"

{.{ d e s i r e d . n a m e }.}

jaycall or jaywhisper, please~

{.{ g e n d e r }.}

" oh... i look like a male don't i? i'm sorry... but it doesn't matter!

jaypaw's dirty get-down and get the job done attitude to life may give her away as a tomboy, or a male. a tom, and yet, sometimes jaypaw can be graceful like many other she-cats, and will place her paws in front of eachother. but most of the time she does that she's joking around. jaypaw just adores to get her black paws a dirty mud colour, or covered with wet sand.

{.{ a g e }.}

well! i'm pretty sure i was made an apprentice at seven moons, and that was only half a moon ago, so i'm seven and a half. you? oh, well you look around thirty, but still..."

born on a early breezy spring morning, jaypaw is born almost seven moons and pretty young, and barely an apprentice in some eyes.

{.{ r a n k }.}

i dunno. i'm sure i'm an warrior to tell the truth. 'how about you? i heard your a loner around these' parts, though. i'd doubt thats true. is it?

{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

one day, one day ah'll be top of the clan. i'll be a leader!"
jaypaw wishes to prove herself as a strong she-cat and not a weak normal cat. she told herself she'd go higher, and she promises the clan to do it.

тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

lengthy ;; minimum of six sentences, aim for higher
swift, small, adgile.
three words some cats would use to describe jaypaw in short.
the young she-cat's body is a small weapon of swiftness and a few hard hits when she can hit them, jaypaw's body is a young, well moving batch of limbs wrapped in a fluffy black pelt if you may. jaypaw has a rather small build, small paws, everything that you see is what you get. jaypaw has a small, sleek-like body and long slim legs and small paws, this gives Jaypaw a graceful-like movement from time to time when she walks and stalks, her long legs give her a speed and jumping ablity that not many cats have, though young, jaypaw could outrun most of the older apprentices and maybe even a warrior, but this doesn't help her in two ways.
jaypaw is harder to hit, but can't hit hard. her small body doesn't help her with anything apart from dodging and speed, and even so, when she starts to fight she starts to become slower, making it easy to hit her. with such a small body, jaypaw finds it hard to hit hard, or hit in the first place, and if she does hit, theres a two in ten chance that it'll be hard, let alone hurt them much. jaypaw would be much better destracting a cat while a diffrent cat attacked it.

{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

jaypaw's body are sleeak and a dark gray with a slightly puffy fur.

{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

sleek body, long graceful legs and small paws

{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

some kinda pumpkin orange.

ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

oh god this. wip. >.<

{.{ l i k e s }.}

• jaypaw likes to...
chat
hunt
run
talk
meow at times
make squeaky noises
eat
sleep
be lazy
talk with friends
talk to herself
talk
showing off
jumping
yelling
sittnig with friends

{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

•
being shown up
being called names
misplacing a jump
not being faster then she could be
hunting
being alone
the dark
badgers and foxes
vixenpaw

{.{ f e a r s }.}

•
being exiled
being looked down on
thought of as useless
being stupid
being hated by the clan

{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

•
hunting
battling
hates rain
cold
snow

{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

• "oh whats this? talents? oh well.. i dunno
jumping
speed
swimming
talking to much
no really. talking.

fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

" i hate to speak about it but... vixenpaw is my sister. ugh. i mean, really, ugh!
when born, jay and vixen had five litermates, vixen, jay, dove, robin and saltkit. when two of them died by an fox attack, saltkit, vixenkit and jaykit where left, vixen and salt thought it would be a good idea to go adventuring.
it wasn't soon before vixenkit was yowling about salt.
we never really saw him again. the poor kit. vixen ended up crouching next to mum, mumbling he had been dragged out to sea. vixen never went out as a kit after that.
we soon became apprentices. vixen is still a little shy, but i'm sure she'll get past it.
we don't know what happened to our mother or father to tell the truth. we woke up the next day after sleeping in the apprentice den and they never seemed to come out of the den.

{.{ m a t e }.}

"I dunno yet. i guess nobody~

{.{ k i n }.}

"vixen, my mum and dad. thats pretty much my only living ones. well i'm sure mum n' dad are alive... just hiding in the den!

{.{ k i t s }.}

list if your cat is a biological/adoptive parent, regardless if s/he knows or not

σuт σf cнαяαcтeя

{.{ u s e r n a m e }.}

element, but you can call me Ashe c:

{.{ n i c k n a me }.}

ashee, ash, ashi, ashee. xD.

{.{ o t h e r }.}

keep the name vixen for me too please. vixen will come in later. xD.
MY PERSONALITY
NO CARY ATM ;w;


[size=115].~. S e α c ℓ α и .~.
[img]insert%20your%20image%20here[/img]
♒ { vixenpaw } . { gender } . { rank } . { one-word personality } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu

{.{ n a m e }.}

you're cat's name
{.{ d e s i r e d . n a m e }.}

what name {if applicable} do you want to have in the future?
{.{ g e n d e r }.}

you know, you know
{.{ a g e }.}

in moons pleashe
{.{ r a n k }.}

don't sign up to be deputy
{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

what rank do you want to be in the future?



тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

lengthy ;; minimum of six sentences, aim for higher
{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

short and sweet ;; basic color, length of fur
{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

short and sweet ;; basic body strength, shape, scars
{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

short and sweet ;; basic eye color, shape



ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

average ;; minimum of six sentences, aim for higher ** if this is hard to put down let me know **
{.{ l i k e s }.}

• what are your favorite things in life? (as many as you want)
{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

• what is the worst life dare offers? (as many as you want)
{.{ f e a r s }.}

• what are you terrified of? (as many as you want)
{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

• what are you not-so good at? (as many as you want)
{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

• what are you pretty good at? (don't be a gary/mary-sue)



fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

give some basics please ; no "doesn't remember" or "doesn't talk about it" please
{.{ m a t e }.}

don't be your own characters' mates ;; you can pre-configure mates with other users
{.{ k i n }.}

list all kin that your cat knows of and that matters
{.{ k i t s }.}

list if your cat is a biological/adoptive parent, regardless if s/he knows or not



σuт σf cнαяαcтeя

{.{ u s e r n a m e }.}

self-explanatory
{.{ n i c k n a me }.}

what do you like to be called? (no real names)
{.{ o t h e r }.}

anything else?

[/size]

[ossa di cervo]

Hey, Mr. Rager, tell me where you're goin'..

♒ { Cricketpaw } . { Tom } . { Medicine Cat Apprentice } . { Spiteful } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu
{.{ n a m e }.}

Cricketpaw No one is quite sure what made Cricketpaw's mother name him as she did, but most believe it was the insanity in the back of her mind. Nothing about Cricketpaw reminds anyone of a cricket at all; most think of the opposite.

{.{ d e s i r e d . n a m e }.}

Cricketfang

{.{ g e n d e r }.}

Tom It isn't exactly the most apparent thing with the young cat.

{.{ a g e }.}

8 moons

{.{ r a n k }.}

Medicine Cat Apprentice

{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

Medicine Cat Nothing Cricketpaw necessarily wants, it's just the only roll he can fill.

тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Petite More often then not, Cricketpaw is mistaken for a she-cat. His body is small and he has a graceful walk, even though more often then not he's sulking. The tom is itty bitty with paws that are extra large, causing him to have a rather quiet footfall and he uses this to his advantage, sometimes sneaking up on other cats. His face is beautifully rounded and his ears are large and well sat on his head, not to large nor to small. Cricketpaw generally has a problem with his fur in the morning for it sticks all over and he occasionally doesn't take the time to take care of it and make it flat again. More often then not, he has a large, ruffled spine after waking up, making him look rather upset and ready to pounce.

{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Clean Cricketpaw tends to keep his fur spotless although it isn't always straight and proper. There is rarely ever a blemish on his perfect white fur.

{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Compact For an apprentice, Cricketpaw's body is oddly compact. His legs aren't long and lanky as if he's growing up, it's like his body has already filled up. He has squared out shoulders and legs that aren't horribly long or short. He looks like a grown cat, only a really small grown cat.

{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Dual Cricketpaw's left eye is a deep green while his right is a bright, icy blue. This sometimes gives other cats chills especially for how Cricketpaw uses his eyes. He's usually seen glaring at others and giving others the impression that he's about to strike up against the whole Clan. For a cat with such an awful disposition, his eyes work rather well for him.

ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

Aggressive No one is sure what exactly went wrong with Cricketpaw, they just know he hates the world. For an apprentice he has a rather hot temper and a quick tongue. When around other cats in the Clan, he gets grumpy and often sulks about like he doesn't care about anyone around him. But why be the medicine cat apprentice if he doesn't care? Cricketpaw hates his job and he isn't afraid to let the Clan know that. Picking out herbs and mixing them is something he was rather phenomenal at as opposed to his awful battle skills. When alone the cat has a rather different personality, for he often sings along to songs in his head and pounces about on random objects. Cricketpaw often finds himself talking to Starclan and reaching out for a way to open himself to the Clan. The small cat is forever searching for a way to enjoy what he does and not find it tasking though that in itself is a hard thing to do. Whenever he is treating wounded cats he often lets his temper get the best of him and hisses in their faces or snarls crude remarks at them, often about their mouse-brained stupidity or how the smell of fox-dung.

{.{ l i k e s }.}

Solitude Cricketpaw loves being able to get away from the busy Clan life and spare some time for himself.
Cleaning An odd thing to enjoy, Cricketpaw finds comfort in cleaning his fur. He rather enjoys the feel of his tongue gliding through his white fur.
Night Cricketpaw tends to get more of his work done at night and he tends to be a tad bit nicer when the moon is up as opposed to the sun.

{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

Others Cricketpaw loathes being around other cats and often acts as if a large tick is lodged in his joint when around them.
Orphan Cricketpaw isn't happy with the fact that he's an orphan. The fact that he was born to crazy she-cat that killed herself is aggravating to him and he finds no comfort in other's words.
Fish Cricketpaw would much rather eat voles.
Loners/Rogues You can blame his father.

{.{ f e a r s }.}

Cliffs Seeing as how his mother committed suicide using a cliff, it makes sense that the apprentice would fear these.
Sharks He's never seen one before, but he often dreams of them and has nightmares of his mother being eaten alive by them.
Lost As much as the tom loves being alone, one of his biggest fears is getting lost and not having his Clan to return to.

{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

Fighting Cricketpaw is absolutely awful at fighting..
Hunting Better then fighting.. But he still sucks.
Swimming Maybe it's the fact that he refuses to swim.. But he's not to great at this either.
Temper Controlling his temper is not something he enjoys.. Nor is it something he's very good at.

{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

Sarcasm 'Nuff said.
Herbs He's fantastic at finding/gathering/mixing herbs!

fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

Cricketpaw was born 'Cricketkit' like any other Clan born cat would be expected to be born. He was born a single cat and he was born to a delusional mother. The she-cat would never feed or care for Cricketpaw and he was left helpless, with the care of the other she-cats who simple felt sorry for the kit. His mother, Rabbitfoot, would hiss at and become very distraught when she caught any of the other she-cats feeding her son. At a very young age, Cricketpaw learned that his father was a rogue and had left his mother alone and she was broken after that. He learned not to trust other cats and became very distant a shocking age. When he was just barely able to walk and see things clearly, his mother took him out away from camp, reassuring the guards and warriors that they would return shortly. Rabbitfoot took her son to the cliffs and spoke of the beautiful ocean and how it's arms were always open to the broken and lost and she proceeded forward. Cricketpaw was to stunned to say anything as he watched his mother move forward and eventually turn around, whispering words he couldn't hear then leaping majestically off the cliff's edge. Cricketpaw was horrified and, thinking he could save her, he sprinted back to camp, his small legs finding the strength. He burst into camp, fanatically yelling about his mother and the cliff. He wasn't allowed out of camp after that, in fear that the young tom himself would commit suicide as his mother had.

{.{ m a t e }.}

None And he never shall. At least not that he knows of or is supposed to.

{.{ k i n }.}

Mother Cricketpaw didn't know his mother very well, in fact all he remembers is the sight of her leaping off a cliff into the deep ocean. He didn't have the guts to rush to the edge and see if she came back up for air either.
Father Cricketpaw knows nothing of his father. He only knows he was a rogue/loner. Something Cricketpaw now despises.

{.{ k i t s }.}

None

((Phew! Cricketpaw is done finally! Now to work on Fawnheart! I hope people don't mind me using their form layout as inspiration! ;D))

[Kat.]

{ .please reserve the names Brookpaw, Longkit, and Rainkit. }

♒ { Russetclaw } . { tom } . { warrior } . { brave } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu

{.{ n a m e }.}

Russetclaw was first known as Longkit, being as his legs are very long and skinny. But there was an elder already named Longshadow, and he was known for being kinda... well, kinky and flirty around younger she-cats; so "Longkit's" parents didn't want their son with a name similiar to his. His original Warrior name was meant to be Longstride as well, but all that changed after his name was changed to Russetkit, based of his fur. The firey tom worked hard in battle training, usuallly not bothering to sheath his thorn-sharp claws, giving him the last half of his name.

{.{ d e s i r e d . n a m e }.}

Russetclaw earned his name about 14 moons ago, when he was 12 moons old.

{.{ g e n d e r }.}

Russetclaw was one of three brothers in the family - Swishpaw was actually a "she-cat" the first two weeks of his life, because the medicine cat got him wrong ( xD ). But Russetclaw has also been the most manly-like tom of his little posse, as well.

{.{ a g e }.}

Russetclaw is a youthful tom - only 26 moons young. He likes being matured, it makes him feel more powerful.

{.{ r a n k }.}

The tom is a Warrior, but he trained and hunted harder than ever just to earn his way to this rank. As an apprentice, Russet"paw" loved watching the older Warriors talk - and he envied them even when he was only Russetkit.

{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

Russetclaw had had the dream of Warrior first - but now he has to move on. His new conquest to become deputy, especially because he has always thought of Tidestar as a brave and noble leader.

тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

A broad shouldered tomcat, Russetclaw was built from kithood as a larger cat. He has long, powerful legs almost giving him the name Longkit, then Longstride. A thin stomach and large muscles on his haunches, Russetclaw was meant for force. Russetclaw isn't the largest tom in SeaClan, despite his muscles, for they are rather average. Not extremely intimidating, but a good cat to have on your side in battle, for he is obviously, from his muscle and appearance, experienced; Russetclaw is proud of his build. It could be better, but it could also be worse. He trained hard for it. His tail is also very long and thick, but not fuzzy.

{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Russetclaw's fur is a tan-brown, or otherwise, russet. It has darker shadings throughout it, with light brown colorings at his shins. His face brings out his tabby lineage, because there are black stripes on his forehead, and dark cheeks.

{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

{{ OoC;; mostly all in the general discription... }}

{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

His eyes are what people call "almond shaped." They are a mixture of gold and green, and will sometimes have a mixture of brown.

ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

Silent and sturdy, Russetclaw used to be a cheerful soul, free and optimistic as his now more mournful sister. Since the accident, which he never speaks about, the tom grieved less, however much times you see him staring off into the distance with a lonely, pained, yet soft expression on his face, as if he was trying to undo it. He is a gentle one, but tends to spook young kits by his lack of expression, and some other cats that don't know him well. Russetclaw has a honey-sweet voice, which is very rarely heard considering he has a knack for taking control and using his hard, crisp, ordering meow. He is never known to snarl, and even though he's a fighter, the tom seems like the very least person that would be expected to be a non-crazy cat. Peaceful, meloncholy, bravely solumn, and sincere are all that mark Russetclaw.
The tom is not afraid to speak his own word. Who cares if they disagree? No one dares to tell him who to be. He sends out a strong signal not to bother him when his in a bad mood, too. He doesn't rave about things, however, he just drops it whenever he gets in arguements.

{.{ l i k e s }.}

- Fighting
- Apprentices
- She-Cats that like him
- Tidestar
- Mentoring

{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

- Boring days
- Hot sun
- Bothersome kits

{.{ f e a r s }.}

- Falling off a gorge/cliff
- Dying for no reason

{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

- Being graceful

{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

- Coming up with good comebacks
- Fighting
- Being cute

fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

{{ OoC;; just as a start, to get you familiar, here is a scene for ya ;3 it's pretty easy to understand what happened... }}
"Russetpaw! Get back here! You don't want to get too close to that edge!" his mother's voice was cunning, very smooth. His two brothers, Foxpaw and Swishpaw, were dancing around him, flashing him glances and twitching their tails, "I want to go hunting." Foxpaw mewed. Swishpaw just pounced on him, "No! I thought we were gonna do practice training?" he pleaded. Russetpaw looked behind him, at the brim of a gorge. It was very deep, and there were scraggly bushes swishing in it, as if tempting you to fall on them. Swiftpaw nuzzled him, "What do you think? Training or hunting?" here voice was muffled as Foxpaw and Swishpaw scored a blow to her, knocking her sideways. "What are you two doing?" Russetpaw asked his brothers, rolling his eyes. They just stopped, laughed, and tackled each other again. Russetpaw suddenly felt bored, and burst into their skirmish. He pounded them (claws sheathed) and took blow after blow from his kin. Swiftpaw was in the ferns, nearly dying of laughter, and rolling around and around.
Then all the fun ended.
Foxpaw fell first, then Swishpaw, then Russetpaw. All the orange tom remembered was hearing his sister scream and look over the edge, and Russetpaw thought it was all over. He took a hard fall into a bush, and he saw Swishpaw flew passed him, screaming and trying to catch a hold of the his cliff's edge. Russetpaw wanted desperately to run up and help them, but he felt helplessly limp. Swiftpaw was pacing at the top, fluffed three times her size, and yelling frantically. In his state, Russetpaw couldn't hear a word she was saying. Foxpaw lay only tail-lengths from him, twisted up and bleeding madly. It was obvious his orange-pelted brother was dead.
Swishpaw couldn't get a grip on the ledge, and fell plummeting to the bottom. (okay, basically when you fall of the edge of the gorge you will land on the first cliff, but if you pass that you hit the floor...) The last thing Russetpaw heard was the thud of Swishpaw's body crashing into the sand.
{{ OoC;; aww... poor Russetpaw/claw. }}

{.{ m a t e }.}

Russetclaw hasn't found the right she-cat yet, but he looks and flirts and shows off to try and catch one's eye - maybe, just maybe one day one will love him; and he'll love them back.

{.{ k i n }.}

Father - Sharpfang;; dead.
Mother - Darkrose;; unknown.
Sister - Swiftwave;; alive and well.
Brother - Foxpaw;; dead.
Brother - Swishpaw;; dead.

{.{ k i t s }.}

Russetclaw never really had an interest in kits. The only thing he had desperately wanted to do was start training one, and making names that are really cool, like Shadowkit or Darkkit. He thought of naming them Foxkit and Swishkit, but that would have brought so much memories. Besides, when would he have time to raise kits in the first place?

σuт σf cнαяαcтeя

{.{ u s e r n a m e }.}

Kat. My username has to do with my love of cats. I was thinking beforehand of me being just Cat. But the K added a teeny bit of... spunk.

{.{ n i c k n a me }.}

Kat, please! Or Kit-Kat, Katty, etc.

{.{ o t h e r }.}

SORRY ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITIES! <#

♒ { Swiftwave } . { She-Cat[color=#404040]} . { Warrior } . { regretful } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu

{.{ n a m e }.}

Swiftwave got the name Swiftkit over her blazing speed and quick, light feet. She loved to run and bounce around, and her parents caught on right away. As the she-cat grew up, she ran along the shore playfully and constantly, catching the leader's eye and making him name her Swiftwave.

{.{ d e s i r e d . n a m e }.}

Swiftwave really wanted the name Rainflower, because her best friend was Rainblossom and she wanted to be just like her when Rainblossom died. Plus, Rainflower just sounds pretty. But Swiftwave acheived her name 15 moons ago - a moon before her brother who had to take time off to heal in the medicine den.

{.{ g e n d e r }.}

Swiftwave is a pretty, skinny she-cat. If she were a tom, she would be a disgrace. The ginger and white cat would hide in shame and cry - a tom-ish cry, however. But she loves being able to help around in the nursery - plus, toms can't bear kits.

{.{ a g e }.}

The she-cat is the same age as her brother, Russetclaw: 26 moons.

{.{ r a n k }.}

Swiftwave is just a Warrior, but she sometimes acts like an older apprentice, while she bounces around and does summer-saults in the grass.

{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

This she-cat's dream is and always has been to have kits, therefore to be a queen.

тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Swiftwave is almost the opposite of her brother - lanky, lean, and small. She has thin bones, and her skin loosely wraps around them. People think she never eats, but she was just built tiny. Her head is long, but thin as well. Her paws however, have never been trusted to support her weight. It is amazement the tiny things can withstand the hard pavement of the Thunderpaths, but she loves them - no matter how much monsters whizz by. She is, however, perfectly comfortable with her body and would do nothing to change it. Her tail is long, bony, and thin. She has a cute pink nose, with big ears and sharp shoulders.

{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Mostley orange and white, but she has a couple of black speckles.

{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Small, lean, and thin.

{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Bright baby blue, with dark azure streaks.

ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

Swiftwave tends to be on the quiet side, mainly because she is shy. She strays away from other cats, yet she knows that she belongs in the Clan. She will one moment be basking in the sun outside the nursery, other times hiding the warriors den. She always does as asked, but will usually ask the queens if they need anything: moss, fresh-kill, cotton, anything; she will do it. Swiftwave likes to watch the kits play. She loves them, but no one - not even Swiftwave (I DO!) - realizes the real reason why. It is because she missed playing with Foxpaw and Swishpaw. Even though she wasn't the one to fall off the edge, she was scarred the most between her and her brother. The she-cat watched it all, and she relives it all.
Swiftwave won't say much, but what she does is always something you should remember. She only speaks the truth - unless it is her honest opinion. Otherwise, she will either just listen in or let Russetclaw do the talking.
Swiftwave is fiesty. She has always had a spark in her, very animated, very free, very uncontrollable. You wouldn't believe it with how quiet she is, though. She is as sweet as she can be, sometimes her heart will switch up on her, and she'll fall head over paws for some tom, but Swiftwave is never as taken with him as she wants to be. {{ OoC;; this is sorta a wip. }}

{.{ l i k e s }.}

- fish (duh!)
- running
- swimming
- taking long walks
- kits
- being in the nursery
- enjoying herself
- looking at stars
- Thunderpaths

{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

- thinking about the death of Foxpaw and Swishpaw
- bad memories in general
- moonless nights
- grumps
- kits being afraid of her
- cats thinking they can just toss her around

{.{ f e a r s }.}

- Russetclaw dying
- gorges
- cliffs
- spiders (she has Arachnophobia)
- the moon disapearing

{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

- looking over high ledges
- going up to high places
- facing up to young cats
- getting up close to spiders
- fighting agaist stronger, bigger cats than herself

{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

- speed
- getting into small places
- climbing, although she doesn't really do so
- swimming
- not being afraid of crossing/standing on a Thunderpath

fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

{{ OoC;; look at Russetclaw's }}

{.{ m a t e }.}

Swiftwave is kinda afraid of getting up to close to toms, because she never feels comfortable. She is looking for a tom that is sweet, gentle, generous, and kind. She also needs a polite cat to love her.

{.{ k i n }.}

Mother - Darkrose;; unknown.
Father - Sharpfang;; dead
Brothers - Russetclaw;; alive, Foxpaw;; dead, Swishpaw;; dead

{.{ k i t s }.}

Swiftwave LOVES LOVES LOVES kits. She has wanted them forever, and she will never stop. The she-cat plays with kits and runs with them and helps the queens look out for them.

σuт σf cнαяαcтeя

{.{ u s e r n a m e }.}

Kat. :3

{.{ n i c k n a me }.}

Just Kat please. Or Katty.

{.{ o t h e r }.}

THESE ARE UBER SHORT - WILL GET BETTER EVENTUALLY! Cx

{{ OoC;; here, just a sloppy put-together. ENJOY THE PICS! }}

[darĸнowl]

.~. S e α c ℓ α и .~.

♒ { Moonshade } . { She-cat } . { Warrior } . { Mysterious } ♒

ρℓeαsuяe тσ мeeт yσu

{.{ n a m e }.}

~Moonshade~ She wasn't born into the clan, but actually found when only three moons old. She was laying along the far border of the clan's territory; broken, bruised and hardly conscious. When a patrol found her to take back to camp, they noticed she was bathed in the moonlight shining down clearly when they stopped- her dark pelt illuminating in the light. When they moved towards her, a cloud covered it's light and they found how dark the little she-kit looked. Because she seemed to be protected by the 'moon's shade', that was what she was named after. Also, to ad onto her name, it seemed a very powerful name which fit her mysterious personality perfectly.

{.{ g e n d e r }.}

She-cat. It's honestly hard to mistake her for anything else. She's one of t he extremely attractive souls around her, she just doesn't see that. She has all the typical female feline features.

{.{ a g e }.}

27 moons. Moonshade was born during the end of Green-Leaf, at it's best time. The first time she blinked her big eyes in the sunlight, she first saw her brother sitting right beside her, gazing around with her on the same day they were born- they had opened their eyes relatively fast once born.

{.{ r a n k }.}

Warrior. She hasn't ever really expected anything less, nor anything more. She's is completely content living a healthy, long life as a warrior. Deputy would be great; a huge honor. But she doesn't think she'd be good leader potential one day.

{.{ d e s i r e d . r a n k }.}

Like I said, she'd like to be deputy but it's unrealistic for her. She'd honestly just want to live to be a senior warrior, then retire as late as possible.

тнe eye σf тнe вeнσℓdeя

{.{ g e n e r a l . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

This she-cat is a stunning one to look at. She's always had a very controlled, strong aura that seemed to surround her {Not literally, to 'see' xD}. She has a very strong personality despite her sweet nature so it's not hard to tell she always knows what she's doing.
Moonshade's pelt, now, is unmistakable. Not many cats have a grey coat like hers. It's an extremely dark shade of grey, not quite charcoal but definitely not black, for that's what her tabby stripes are. She has a strong, but petite body, which hides the advantages she's got in fighting. Thanks to that, she can slip away quickly from an opponent and tackle them with a hard force. This young tabby is very attractive and definitely gets the toms' attention though she hardly notices it for no cat is brave or sweet enough to tell her she's beautiful. The tabby, jet-black stripes and intense eyes are extremely intimidating.

{.{ f u r . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Moonshade is known for her beautiful smokey, very dark grey, with blended silver (base colours mixed together) tabby coat and jet black stripes (imagine coat darker in the pics). Her cheeks, chest and most of her underbelly are pure white. The silver is hardly visible most of time, but shines from underneath the grey in direct sunlight or moonlight. When she was a kit, Moonshade didn't even look that dark, but gradually it proved that her pelt was extremely dark. The white is striking, compared to her dark grey tabby pelt and black stripes.

{.{ b o d y . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

She's a strongly built she-cat with thick, soft medium-length fur. She doesn't have very long legs, but she can still run fast. Despite her good muscle build, she's a slender she-cat. Her fur is warm from it's length, but she can still swim relatively well with it; not that she's the best swimmer. She really has no scars or markings, but when she was a kit she was covered in them from her long journey. She healed overtime but mentally sometimes she feels they're still there.

{.{ e y e . d e s c r i p t i o n }.}

Moonshade has really big, blue eyes that always sparkle in the sunlight and moonlight, so dark that they seem to be a dark indigo colour. They are a perfect round shape, accenting her beautiful face. When ever they seem to sparkle in the light they seem to give off that shattered-into-a-million-pieces look.

ωнαт's σи тнe ιиsιde

{.{ g e n e r a l . p e r s o n a l i t y }.}

This dark tabby is a strong hearted she-cat with a caring personality. She is extremely fierce in battle and quick and smart while fighting. Moonshade will stand up for herself and others she cares for when needed but doesn't like to make a fuss over things and doesnt want to attract attention, being humble. She's very smart, brave and courageous, but sweet. She has a very mysterious and powerful aura that seems to emanate from her when she is fighting, speaking about something important, or is challenged about her family - Moonshade, seeming a very strong and mysterious name, fit her perfectly. She is very defensive about her old clan, and still holds a slight strong power about her.
Moonshade is good at hiding her emotions but she always feels bad about anything she does incorrectly; little or big. She is extremely apologetic, even when it's not necessary. She is very aggressive when it comes to rogues.

{.{ l i k e s }.}

• Training others
• Sitting in the forest, night or day but preferably night
• Spending time with anyone who'd care to do nothing and turn it interesting
• The stars/moon
• Listening to a storm
• Fighting
• Daydreaming

{.{ d i s l i k e s }.}

• Hunting; though she'll do it without question
• Arguments
• Irritating cats
• Nightmares {She gets them often}
• Losing in anything

{.{ f e a r s }.}

• Badgers
• Losing her home and clan again
•Never finding love

{.{ d o w n f a l l s }.}

• Too caring
• Will do whatever any cat higher in authority asks her UNLESS it's completely ridiculous

{.{ t a l e n t s }.}

• Fighting
• Quick-thinker/smart with words
• Hiding emotions when needed

fαмιℓy мαттeяs

{.{ h i s t o r y }.}

Moonshade had a pretty hard and confusing past. When she was born with her brother, Darkkit, their mother never told them what happened with their father until after two moons. She explained that she'd fallen in love with him, mated, had them, but he deserted her at the suggestion of clanlife. The clan rebuked her for her remaining time, even Moonkit and Darkkit. But they soon felt bad and let it go. After hardly over two moons, a strange tom took Moonkit away from the nursery one night. He had whispered something along the lines of ''I love you'' to her mother and she then found it was her real father. He hadn't run away. There were rogues that had threatened to kill his family if he joined them so he left to chase them off to protect his family. His mate knew all along, and had stayed asleep that night for she couldn't bare saying goodbye to Moonkit. Her father was taking her because the rogues were coming for her alone so he needed to keep her away. They found them after a week of long trekking through the forest and confronted her father. They beat him and even innocent little Moonkit up. He hardly made it to Seaclan before yowling for help to save his daughter's life. He asked one particular tom to take her in before the patrol appeared and he agreed to promise to keep her safe. He ran off, fighting the rogues off one last time. Moonkit had been unconscious that whole process so she never got to say goodbye to her father. To this day she still has no clue as to whether or not he's alive. She misses him, her mother and brother desperately, but knows she can't go back.

{.{ m a t e }.}

None. Moonshade has always felt lonely in this clan, mostly because she doesn't have many friends and cats don't really care for her. She's always longed to find someone special, someone to love and care for her when she needed it most but so far... nothing. She's still waiting, though and only prays to Starclan that she might have a family one day.

{.{ k i n }.}

Petalthorn;; unknown;; mother
Dark{kit};; unknown;; brother
Ember;; unknown;; father.

{.{ k i t s }.}

None. Always wanted ^ Look at 'Mate'. Longs to start a family with a tom who loves her. Is starting to lose hope, though.

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{.{ u s e r n a m e }.}

Just DarkHowl is the name! Don't worry about me changing it anytime soon; I've never done that yet. I've kept it the same the day I joined.

{.{ n i c k n a me }.}

Everyone calls me Dark(: Some call me Darkie... Feel free to call me whatever you want tho, I really don't mind anything {As long as it's not offensive}

{.{ o t h e r }.}

Nope! I hope this is alright!

[-Bacon]

(Sorry for the inconvenience... Please ignore this.)

[littlemoosie]

{{ sorry for the delay. form will be up soon.

but moonbeamz, you're using the same picture for robinwing that i'm using for my cat shorepaw. i posted her form on page three, i believe, and although it's still a wip, do you mind using a different picture? i'm sorry if i sound rude, but i just wanted to let you know that i was already using it. :3

[indefinite.]

{{ i hope you dont mind snowie, but i'd like to use an old favorite of mine. can you delete tinypaw from the ranks and reserve the cats gingerstripe, owlflight, and cricketsong? }}

[moon.]

Waterfall - Yeah, sorry! I didn't see that. c: I'll change it right away, just give me a little to find a new one c: