𝓼𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓹𝓪𝔀Name:: Swiftkit - Swiftpaw - Swiftstrike
Gender:: Tom
Age:: Eight moons
Rank:: Apprentice
Mentor:: To Be Announced
Living Kin:: "My overly happy sister, Tawnypaw."
Deceased Kin:: "My mother, Gentleflower, and my father,
Quickstep. Now buzz off."
Love Interest: "I do not believe in love."
Loved by:: "I doubt anyone has any interest
in me. Frankly, I don't care."
Offspring:: "I am much too young to have
had any kits."
Pelt:: "I am almost entirely black with a white muzzle,
white paws, and a white chest, since you can't
see for yourself."
Eye Color:: "If you must know, its like an olive Green"
Build:: Burly, Muscular, Well Built
Size:: Large, Above Average
Strengths:: Strategy, Fighting, Hunting, Quick Thinking,
Retaining Information, Quick Learner, Creative in battle, Clever
Weaknesses:: Swimming, Communication,
Getting along with others, Constantly sarcastic, Outspoken,
Sharp-tongued, Rude
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Born into Moonclan, Swiftpaw and his only littermate Tawnypaw, lived a regular kit life. They did the average kit things, such as chasing moss balls and catching beetles. Play fighting was an everyday thing even though the outcome was always the same, it excited both kits. As they became older and earned their positions as apprentices, Swiftpaw and his sister grew farther and farther apart. Even as a kit, Swiftpaw didn't talk to much to anyone, but often beat up on his sister and parents to practice his skills to become a warrior. He was a determined kit, always wishing to prove himself as the best, learning quickly yet never knowing enough. He was quiet yet ambitious, always working on his skills and observing others. His sister was much of his polar opposite, as she was constantly trying to build a relationship with someone. She was more talk and learning about other's tactics verbally, while he only needed to watch to understand. He grew more and more aggressive with his sister till she would truly fight him off and their parents would have to scorn him, though he didn't know how much he was truly hurting her. This caused the young tom to become distant, so he started to practice by attack the fresh kill. Mutilating his breakfast rather than eating, all in order to practice. Two sunrises after becoming an apprentice, Swiftpaw snuck out of camp to explore the territory more than he had been shown, little to his knowledge, he was being followed by his father. That same night, his mother was on a night patrol with Tawnypaw and her mentor, scouting the borders for loners and rogues that may be stealing prey, or any predators that crossed the border. That fateful night, the wind had picked up and only the patrol and the camp filled the young tom's nose, hiding the scent of the oncoming danger. Only a few bounds away, a fox was quickly taking advantage of the opportunity for a easy meal. Large paws thundered toward him, vibrating the ground beneath his paws as the large beast pursued its meal. Only moments before it was able to grab a hold of him, Swiftpaw's father, a hunter, threw himself into the fox. A rare sight, as not often did fox travel near the camp in search for easy prey, but this was one of those rare occasions. The commotions drew in the night patrol, and they quickly leaped into the fray, all fighting off the beast, except the two apprentices, who were both frozen in fear. His father and mother fought hard, tears and gashes littering their fur while they threw themselves angrily at the hungry fox. It wasn't long till one of the lifeless bodies got tossed aside as the fox's jaws snapped Swiftpaw's mother's neck. Stumbling away, their father managed an assault on the beast's belly, leaving deep wounds that oozed blood, before he was batted hard away, hitting a tree trunk and breaking his spine on impact. Tawnypaw's mentor had backed away to regain his composure, but in those few moments, the fox took the advantage and thundered toward the apprentices. Tawnypaw's mentor's voice piped up for them to run and quickly, Swiftpaw turned and raced away from the scene. Too afraid to look back, Swiftpaw raced straight for camp with fear wide in his eyes, but when he reached camp he sat at the entrance and stared blankly as his heart raced. He should have looked back. He glanced around and his sister was no where to be found but she didn't show for a little while. To afraid to go back, the tom had waited until she returned but she gave him the cold shoulder when she spotted him waiting in camp. Then he realized he should have sent help, but it was too late. She was getting it, but by now her mentor was probably dead. When the day came that they brought their parents bodies back to camp, the mentor was no where to be found. Everyone just assumed he had been taken as the fox's meal after the battle, or a trophy prize for having won. He mourned in his own way. By training. By creating deep gashes in the flesh of a tree trunk, his claw marks littering the bark of many trees in the territory. The tom was scarred from that moment on and retreated within himself, as he now constantly scorns himself for not throwing himself into the heat of battle. As he grew older, he became more and more focused on his training and now spends countless hours overnight, training till he passes out. It is his only outlet to where he can put his anger and regret outward and not inward toward himself. Swiftpaw has pushed everyone away and not let anyone in since the incident, and remains cold and sharp-tongued in order to ward anyone off. He thinks nothing of anyone's feelings and will say anything harsh in order to get anyone to leave. Though, he will not boast, he is by far the best fighter in the clan and a rather splendid hunter, but he falters in communication which is a very big skill he need to be the best warrior in the clan. With that being said, he has taught himself tactics that he made up on his own, in order to have an advantage in battle. Swiftpaw will take all his time to train and further his skills, as this is the best way to get away from others and a great excuse to get out of socializing with others. Little do many know, he truly fears friendship and love, as his ultimate fear is losing someone he loves again. Though, little does he admit that he still holds his sister very dear to him, and will give his life without question to save her. His heart urns to protect her, and if that means beating off toms with a stick, so be it. He doesn't want to see her grow up, nor fall in love, as he doesn't want her to forget him. Even though he is harsh or nearly silent when Tawnypaw comes by to talk to him, he holds those times dear. It pains him to see her avoid him, but he knows its the nightmares as she can see the regret and slight hatred in her gaze that she casts them.
