๐ผ๐๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ฝ๐น๐ช๐Name:: 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 Brambleclan, 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.
๐ฝ๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ท ๐ท๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ป.... ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ช๐ต ๐ถ๐ ๐๐ธ๐พ๐ท๐ญ๐ผ...
๐ฝ๐ช๐๐ท๐๐น๐ช๐Name:: Tawnykit - Tawnypaw - Tawnylight
Gender:: She-cat
Age:: Eight moons
Rank:: Apprentice
Mentor:: To Be Announced
Living Kin:: "My brother, Swiftpaw."
Deceased Kin:: "My mother, Gentleflower, and my father,
Quickstep..."
Love Interest: "I don't really know... My brother gives me
a look every time I talk to toms."
Loved by:: "I don't know, but wouldn't that be
so sweet if someone liked me?!"
Offspring:: "I am much too young to have
had any kits! One day though!"
Pelt:: "I am long-haired with splotches of black
and orange all over my pelt."
Eye Color:: "They are a leaf-colored green."
Build:: Lean and long-legged
Size:: Average
Strengths:: Excellent Hunter, Quick Thinking, Bird Catching,
Quick Learner, Witty, Making Friends, Jumping, Climbing
Weaknesses:: Swimming, Air-head, Outspoken,
Clumsy, Easily Distracted, Forgetful, Fighting
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Born into the original Brambleclan, Tawnypaw and her only littermate Swiftpaw, 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, Tawnypaw and her brother grew farther and farther apart. Even as a kit, the two littermates were very different as Tawnypaw was very talkative and avoided fighting, while Swiftpaw often beat up on his sister and parents to practice his skills to become a warrior. Unlike her brother, she preferred hunting beetles and snatching snowflakes as they fell, over battling each other to practice for a fight. Tawnypaw was constantly getting in others ways as she snooped around camp to figure out what each cat was up to. Her curiosity often got her into trouble as she is rather clumsy, especially as a kit, which left holes in the nursery walls. Not to mention she was very curious of the scents wafting from the medicine cat den, so she would investigate and end up tripping or slipping on a herb, only to knock over a pile or two. Her brother was the complete opposite, as he would sit off to the side and watch, avoiding all conversations. She was more talk and learning about other's tactics verbally, while he wanted to watch and interpret. Swiftpaw grew more and more aggressive with her till the point where she would truly have to fight him off, and their parents would pull them apart and scorn him. To this day, she swears that he intentionally hurt her during those times. After a few of the fights where she was left with spots of fur that had been pulled out, she grew more distant toward her brother. Situations only grew worse when he began mutilating his breakfast to train, so she would eat with the apprentices and elders in order to stay away from him. Two sunrises after becoming an apprentice, Tawnypaw was taken out of camp for her first night patrol, and all was going as expected till barking and yowling sliced through the cold silence. That very night, her brother had snuck out of camp only to encounter a hungry fox looking for an easy meal. The commotions quickly roused the curiosity of the patrol, and brought them quickly to the scene of Quickstep fiercely warding off the fox to keep it from Swiftpaw. Fear had struck fear into the she-cat as soon as the fox came into her line of vision, stopping her in her tracks. Staring mortified at the scent, she watched as her mother and father pelts became littered with tears and gashes, though they never wavered as they continued to throw 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 Tawnypaw'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. The tom shouted at the two apprentices and they both scrambled away in fear. Both attempted to get out of the way, but Tawnypaw didn't have nearly the reflexes that her brother had, and the beast managed to grab her tail and pull her back. In only seconds, her brother had disappeared in fear towards the camp, leaving her mentor and herself alone with the beast. In a panic, Tawnypaw twisted her body and clawed blindly at the fox's muzzle before giving a hard kick to is muzzle. As the blow landed on its snout, it released her tail and she was able to escape but her mentor didn't follow, hanging back to ensure their safety. She never saw her mentor again, as his body had disappeared along with the fox. When the bodies of their mother and father were brought back to camp, she sat vigil and mourned their death for four days without drinking or eating anything till she passed out of exhaustion. There is a piece of her that never forgave Swiftpaw for leaving her or getting help, and that grudge had kept her from speaking to him for nearly a moon. Now that a moon has passed since the accident, she has attempted to reconnect with her brother, as he is the last living kin that she has. When he is in his moods or she has her fits of nightmares about their death, she avoids her brother and ends up speaking to others in the clan to further her bonds with others. Secretly, the young she-cat is looking to fill that void that she had with her parents, and get her mind off of the pain she feels. Now returning to her normal self, Tawnypaw has regained her bubbly attitude and forgetful self that easily misses the most obvious signs. She is oblivious to flirtation and can never tell when a tom is interested in her as she simply thinks they are being friendly. She is often the camp clown as her clumsiness often puts her on the ground with her nose in the ground. Despite her clumsiness, she is a graceful looking cat with long limbs and silky fur that she keeps well-groomed.
๐ธ๐ช๐ด๐ฏ๐ช๐ต๐ตName:: Oakkit- Oakpaw - Oakfall
Gender:: Tom
Age:: 35 moons
Rank:: Warrior
Living Kin:: All have passed on.
Deceased Kin:: Rippleshade {Mother}, Hawknose {Father},
Morningpaw {Sister}, Tornclaw {Brother}
Love Interest: No one Currently
Loved by:: No one currently
Offspring:: {wants eventually}
Pelt:: Long-haired, Fiery Orange Tabby
Eye Color:: Rich, Leaf Green
Build:: Brute, Burly, Well-muscular
Size:: Large
Strengths:: Hunting, Fighting, Following Orders,
Strength, Climbing, Strategy, Remaining Calm
Weaknesses:: Speed, Swimming,
Tree-hunting, Grace
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Being born in the time when the four clans still co-existed, Oakfall was used to the clans having slight hostilities toward each other. His kithood was easy and very quiet, with a protective mother and a strong warrior for a father. His bother, Tornclaw and Morningpaw, were very close and in constant competition with each other. As soon as the were ranked as apprentices, Oakfall took kindly to the fighting and hunting on the ground. His sister, Morningpaw, became extremely talented at tracking and hunting from the trees. Morningpaw was a lot more petite than the brute of a tom that Oakfall was, which drew Oakfall to be more protective of his sister when anyone picked on her. Only a few moons into their apprenticeship, the three siblings were each getting back from training, when Pineclan attacked. A fairly large group ambushed their training group, and caught them group off guard. Only a small portion of the patrol stayed to take on their group, while the rest of the Pineclan cats continued on to attack the camp. Quickly, the fight turned sour as they killed Tornclaw's mentor, sending the small training patrol into a rage. Managing to kill 3 of the other Pineclan cats, the patrol paused to catch their breath, blood having spilled the ground around them. Out of nowhere, a smaller warrior leaped from the trees and attacked Morningpaw and bit deep into her throat before anyone could react. Oakfall became blind with rage, leaping at the small warrior and killed her within moments of his sisters death. Breaking down, Oakfall fell to the ground and defended his sisters lifeless body, while little to his knowledge his mother was killed in her sleep and his father would later be killed by an ambush of Pineclan warriors. Ever since the day he lost most his family and Pineclan was rid of, Oakfall dedicated himself to becoming a more alert and successful fighter to be sure he would never loose someone dear to him ever again. As Brambleclan banded together and slowly grew in size, his brother went on a patrol on the border and was attacked by a fox, and killed by the patrol but due to blood loss, his brother passed that same day. Over the years, Oakfall has grown to be a very loving and generous tom, yet his hostilities toward former Pineclan cats are hard for him to muffle. Though, as the moons go on, he has an easier time controlling his hatred and forgiving those who were involved in Pineclan's affairs. The tom is very heavy footed and has a hard time being quiet unless taking extra care in doing so, due to how large his paws are. Though he is a skilled hunter on the ground, he isn't the best at climbing or hunting in the trees, and is rather clumsy. Oakfall has a great sense of humor and aims to brighten any mood and atmosphere in any way you can. The tom has a big heart and will protect anyone in his clan without hesitation, and will give his life for anyone in the clan, especially the mollies and younger cats. Though this leads the tom to be all to trusting, but when it comes down to it, he will stand for what he believes in and can be rather stubborn when he needs to be.
๐ฑ๐ธ๐ต๐ต๐๐ฏ๐ป๐ธ๐ผ๐ฝName:: Hollykit - Hollypaw - Hollyfrost
Gender:: She-cat
Age:: Twenty-Eight moons
Rank:: Warrior
Living Kin:: Blizzardstep {Adopted Brother}
Deceased Kin:: Willownose {Mother}, Clawfoot {Father}
Love Interest: No one currently
Loved by:: No one currently {Open}
Offspring:: 'Maybe One Day?
Pelt:: Thick, Short Black Fur
Eye Color:: Icy Blue
Build:: Muscular, Fluffy yet Well-Built
Size:: Average
Strengths:: Great Fighter, Good Hunter, Kind,
Gentle, Fun-Loving, Enthusiastic
Weaknesses:: Outspoken, Immature, Playful,
Sassy, Bossy, Overly Organized,
Bird Hunting
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Born into the original Brambleclan, Hollyfrost was born in the middle of winter when a blizzard raged for weeks on end. It was one of the harshest winters known the the four clans, taking many lives and bring sickness across the forests which dug fiercely into the pelts of nearly every cat. Hollyfrost was born to a litter of two, and sadly was the runt of the litter which leaned in her favor at the time. Her littermate passed from illness due to the cold only days after birth, leaving Hollyfrost as the only kit to her mother, Blackflower. She was extremely heavy with milk, which was more than enough for the small black kit when luckily two kits showed up within the week, small and shivering. Whiteflake, another warrior within the clan, had found the kits along side a kittypet which passed due to bloodloss from what looked like a hawk attack during the blizzard, leaving the kits alone. These kits were known as Needle and Blizzard, which Blackflower happily took in the two kits, though only a few days later did Needle die of malnutrition during pregnancy. Blackflower took the kit as her own, and Hollykit and Blizzardkit grew up as brother and sister. The two grew together, learning the ways of the clan as if they were true siblings. Being slightly older than her brother, Hollyfrost was named an apprentice and given a mentor, while her adopted littermate continued their easy life in the nursery. Hollyfrost dedicated her time to only training to be sure she was quite a bit ahead of her adopted littermate, Blizzardstep, by the time they were named apprentices. Hollyfrost was noted for her strength in jumping and skill in hunting, while his siblings excelled in fighting as they were more bulky than her smaller. Tension started to build between the clans as attacks began from Pineclan cats, which pushed battle training into the interest of each mentor. Hollyfrost wasn't the best fighter, but she was skilled in it due to her strength in her hind legs, which allowed for quick bounds past and over her opponent. She was named a warrior at 14 moons, a moon ahead of her siblings as expected, Hollyfrost was given her name for her icy blue eyes that looked as if they were pools of water that that had frozen over, "capable of freezing her prey in her tracks". A moon later, her siblings were named, and the three went out on a patrol as warriors. As they neared the border, they were ambushed by a small group of Pineclan cats, which they easily warded off, and quickly headed back to alert the camp. Two moons later, Blackflower became heavy with kits, which excited Hollyfrost's overly kit-like self for the possibility of having an actual sibling of the same blood. Though it was bittersweet, as only shortly after did the war come and ravage their clan. She lost many of his clanmates, though luckily her adopted littermate lived, but unfortunately, her mother was not one of the fortunate ones to live. Blackflower had been attacked while hiding in the nursery, her lifeless body slumped against the wall. Since then, Hollyfrost has been a little down-trodden but doesn't let it show and attempts to be more cheerful in order to cheer others up. Hollyfrost is a rather outspoken she-cat, happy to talk to just about anyone except in the mornings. She is definitely NOT a morning cat. She is a very dedicated warrior, but enjoys her times to relax and bask in the sun. Apprentices and kits are her favorite to talk to, to tell stories and play games with. It is almost as if she is still a kit at heart but just was placed in a larger body. Though the she-cat can be fairly immature at times, she demands respect when she isn't goofing around, as she gives respect to everyone at all times. She will voice her distaste with anyone who disrespects another cat, especially the higher ranks. It is almost she has two sides, as she is also rather stubborn and bossy at times, liking things to go as planned and not going with the flow. This makes her a little strategic, always creating a plan or having a strategy available to carry out in every situation, which aided in her battling and hunting on the route of how to approach the prey. This she-cat hates surprises and the unknown, which makes her curious to figure out what she doesn't know. This leads her into a lot of dangerous situations, which isn't a very good influence when or if she ever has an apprentice around with her, as she tends to be rather nosy and tends to eavesdrop on other conversations so that she is 'in the know'.
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Name:: Blizzardkit - Blizzardpaw - Blizzardstep
Gender:: Tom
Age:: Twenty-Seven moons
Rank:: Warrior
Living Kin:: Hollyfrost {Adopted Sister}
Deceased Kin:: Needle {Brother}, Daisy {Sister}, Nemo {Mother}
Willownose {Adopted Mother}, Clawfoot {Adopted Father}
Love Interest: Lightwing
Loved by:: No one currently
Offspring:: "None yet, but I want them."
Pelt:: Long-haired, White, Dark Brown Ears,
Brown spots At Outer Edge of Eye
Eye Color:: Sky blue
Build:: Muscular, yet slender
Size:: Average
Strengths:: Caring, Respectful, Hunting,
Climbing, Swimming, Endurance, Speed
Weaknesses:: Trusting Too Much, Fishing,
Tree Hunting, Catching Birds, Strength
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Hiding within the borders of the original Brambleclan, Nemo a kittypet, was heavy with kits and made her home within the bottom of a tree that made a small cave. Giving birth to her kits in the dead of winter, the snow whipping around the tree in spirals. A blizzard had wreaked its havoc for the last 5 days, leaving Nemo weak and hungry as she wasn't the best hunter with how heavy she was, and having been a kittypet she had little to no skills anyways. It had been a couple moons since she had left her twolegs with her mate, though he had vanished the first day of the blizzard when he went out hunting. Shivering and shaking within her small den, Nemo yowled in pain as her belly contracted as a sign of the oncoming kits. Giving birth to her kits, her yowls of pain had drawing in a nearby warrior that had been hunting in the cold weather. Seeing the extreme blood loss from queen, and the two kits nestled at her belly for warmth and a motionless kit near her hind legs. Nemo looked to him with fear in her eyes, begging him to take her kits and provide them safety and life. Knowing she wouldn't last but moments longer, she looked to her kits and named them. Begging for the warrior to keep their names which she gave them, Blizzard and Needle, as she gave them one last lick upon the head before laying her head down. Heaving one last breath, Nemo passed before the warriors eyes. Deciding to give the kits a fighting chance, he pulled the kits out of the small den within the tree and raced them back to camp before they could freeze to death from the cold whipping winds and the snow that blew past. A queen that had just recently birthed her own kits, only one living, had plenty of milk for the two kits. The tom told her the names were Blizzard and Needle, thus she named them Blizzardkit and Needlekit. Sadly, only days later did Needlekit die with a raging fever from an illness that had been laid upon him from improper nutrition during the pregnancy, taking his life. Taking in Blizzardkit as her own as he had no one left, he was raised through the wet season, though he ended up loving the rain when he played with his adoptive littermate. Hollykit. Growing into a strong apprentice, Blizzardpaw was never told whom his parents were and only knew his mother died giving birth to him and his siblings. He trained as hard as any of the other apprentices and was often more loyal then the rest of them. After receiving his warrior name for how his paws never made a sound on the ground or in the trees, Blizzardstep proved his loyalty and place within the clan. He has grown into a very respectful and kind cat, with a very gentle heart. Learning that taking orders without question gets the best response from his elders, the tom respects any orders he is given. He will argue for what he believes in but if his deputy, medicine cat, or leader tell him to do as they say, he will not argue. Unlike his name, Blizzardstep is a rather laid back and calm tom that is very hard to anger. He keeps his cool in any situation and will do his best to make sure everyone is happy by making a compromise. He doesn't take insults or sharp tongues personally, and is very hard to offend, though this can drive some sharp-tongued cats insane.
