[✤] - Ｋｉｔｔｙ＇ｓ ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ - [✤]

[Kitty-lover93]

Ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ！

[ ✤ ] This is the place where I will keep all of the characters that I have made. Pretty much all of these characters will be warriors from all the warriors role plays I've made and participated in. (I am a semi-literate to literate role player, keep in mind.) The only warriors role plays I am currently an active part of will be in my signature, so only a few of these characters will actually be in use.

However, just because they are not in use does not mean that I don't love all of them dearly and will not notice if you decide to take them. Trust me, I see almost every warriors role play that is made and contemplate on whether or not I will join it- I will and do check out the majority of the characters in them, and if you have used my form(s), there is going to be a major problem. I am not cool with anybody using my creations. (I don't mean names; I don't mind if you use the names. Just don't copy anything else within the forms.)

Feel free to leave your comments and feedback! I would love to know who your favorite character is, and I have no problem with you posting here to tell me. However, there are also limits to what you can post. DO NOT advertise your role plays, ask me to join them, or post anything unrelated to my characters on this thread! That would be considered spamming, and I don't want this place getting clogged up with things like that. If you want me to join any of your role plays, please PM me the link and I will check it out. But again, do not post it here.

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{ Welcome • Rules(to come) • Contents (to come) }

[Kitty-lover93]

Ｒｕｌｅｓ

You may post here. However:
-Do NOT post any of your forms here.
-Any and all replies should refer directly to one or all my characters.
-If you want me to join one of your role plays, PM me. DO NOT ASK ME HERE.

My forms are not here for you to bash them.
-I will take helpful advice, constructive criticism, and praise.
-So what if you think one of my characters is completely stupid? Keep it in your brain! Believe or not, I spend hours on these. They are a part of me and will not be insulted.

Do not purposefully take any of my formatting.
-Yeah, I get it, formatting is limited to the functions on CS, and there are only so many different designs. I work hard to make mine as original as possible and I don't appreciate it when people take it.

DO NOT- AND I REPEAT DO NOT -TAKE ANY OF THE CONTENT WITHIN MY FORMS AND USE IT FOR YOUR OWN!
-Newsflash: this is called plagiarism! Plagiarism is done by people who are too lazy to do their own things! Everybody despises plagiarists and it will not be tolerated in any way, shape, or form.
-Names and (most) pictures do not apply to this. As most of my characters are warriors, most of the names have already been used hundreds of times, and I get my pictures off the internet so I personally do not own them.

[Kitty-lover93]

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔｓ

Okay, I'm done yelling. Now let's get to the fun stuff! <3

Ｆｅｍａｌｅ ｗａｒｒｉｏｒｓ：

Dawnflight

Amberfall/star

Goldenheart

Meadowsong

Shimmercloud

Juniperleaf

Graystripe

Littlesong

Ｍａｌｅ ｗａｒｒｉｏｒｓ：

Dashfoot

Stormheart

Sparrowstorm

Stonewhisker

Thrushclaw

Sootwhisker

[Kitty-lover93]

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✦ Ｄａｗｎｆｌｉｇｈｔ ✦

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ｌｉｆｅ＇ｓ ｔｏｏ ｓｈｏｒｔ ｔｏ ｅｖｅｎ ｃａｒｅ ａｔ ａｌｌ

Ｎｕｍｂ

I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
Don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there,
Become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you.

And I know
I may end up failing too.
But I know
You were just like me with someone disappointed in you.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ｂａｓｉｃｓ

✦ Name: Dawnflight

✦ Gender: Female

✦ Age: 25 moons

✦ Rank: Warrior

✦ Mentor: Raventail, deceased

✦ Apprentice(s): None

✦ Mother: Willowleaf; deceased

✦ Father: Talon

✦ Siblings: Stormkit and Owlkit; stillborn.

✦ Fur color: Orange tabby

✦ Eye color: Bright green

✦ Physique: Tall, slender, and muscular.

✦ Best trait: Her intelligence.

✦ Worst trait: She's naturally suspicious.

✦ Weakness: Oddly, kits.

✦ Crush: None; searching.

✦ Mate: None; wants.

✦ Kits: None; wants.

✦ Other: None.

Darkness descended upon camp, and with every cat that bid her a sleepy good night, the spark inside of Willowleaf grew brighter. Soon, she would see Talon.

And soon, he would learn that she was expecting.

She had volunteered for the Night Watch, and as the only cat on the Night Watch, it was easy to slip away and meet with Talon. Just the thought of him sent tingles down her spine, into her stomach, down to her toes. He was tall and regal, with a dusky gray pelt and the most brilliant green eyes. His voice was like rays of sunshine, his laugh making her burn with that longing to finalize it, to just leave the clan and be with him. And now that she was pregnant with his kits, that was exactly her plan.

Moonhigh rolled around slowly, but eventually it did, and she left with an excited spring in her step. She was going to see Talon. She was going to see Talon. That made her move faster, made her burn with that longing, as she had so very often at night. Then, she came to the clearing, and slowed to a stop. A sudden pang of nervousness overtook her. What would he think?

"Willowleaf?" Talon called out, and her stomach swooped. This was Talon. He would be ecstatic! He had always talked to her about how badly he wanted kits. He was getting older, forty moons now, and he was worried that he might wait too long. Wait no longer, she thought, and she burst into the clearing, her eyes bright and the excited "Hi!" on her lips before-

The words froze in her mouth, not even allowing for a gasp. It was as if all the air had been pushed from her lungs, leaving her stiff and staring, unbelieving and cold all over. No. No. No. No. No.

Froststar stood in front of her, his usually kind face tight and pinched with pain and disapproval. He looked at her like she was some foreign creature, somebody he'd never trust with a simple border patrol let alone the Night Watch. And beside him, underneath the warrior Blackstorm, lay Talon, his beautiful gray fur mussed and dirty, caked with blood and dirt. Worst of all was his eyes.

They were still open, glassy and wide, the warmth gone. What had once animated them, had filled them with Talon's frequent laughter and sweetness, was gone now; instead, they were brilliant, beautiful green nothings, never seeing his kits, never seeing his pregnant mate. Willowleaf wasn't sure quite what happened; everything just suddenly darkened, and she felt so numb, so numb... her vision narrowed to Talon's eyes, and she was suddenly on the ground, not hearing or feeling anything but that all-consuming silence and that odd numbness. Eventually, she passed out.

From there, Willowleaf's health declined considerably, as she'd stare hollowly at any prey anyone brought her, refuse to say anything to anyone, and just lay there staring at the sky. If she looked down, she saw green grass, and she saw Talon's eyes. If she looked up, she saw the blue sky. Blue was not Talon. Blue was safe.

The only thing that motivated her to eat was the kits that starved inside her, that bore Talon's face and Talon's body and Talon's warmth, the last bit of him she could hold on to. She felt ever more fiercely attached to the creatures growing inside her with every passing day, and yet she could not bring herself to eat more than a mouse a day. She couldn't quite bring herself to understand just how much she was affecting them.

She paid the price when she gave birth. It was a terrible pregnancy; the kits were way early, very premature due to her abuse, and she had a lot of troubles giving birth. The medicine cat tried to guide her as firmly as possibly, but there was only so much she could do before Willowleaf really decided what happened. She didn't know it, but the first two that were born were stillborn. They were far underdeveloped, which led the medicine cat to believe that they'd died somewhere in the last moon of Willowleaf's pregnancy, when she'd stopped caring for herself. They were just developed enough to have fur, and they were little gray tabby boys.

The third kit, however, was much bigger. She was like a tiny flame, mewling loudly and kicking strongly. Willowleaf looked up in alarm, her eyes still hazy from the poppyseeds, and guided the little she-kit to her stomach. Then, she saw the two toms and froze, a look of terror on her face. Their fur was the exact shade of... no. She couldn't, wouldn't do that to them. She knew they were dead; she could sense it. "He's Stormkit," she rasped, gesturing toward the one on the right, "and he's Owlkit."

The medicine cat looked stricken. "They're-"

Willowleaf waved it off tiredly. "I- I know." She had to hold on.
Had to.
Hold on.
Can't

- - -

Dawnkit tumbled through the nursery, looking up at Applefrost. "Mommy," she tested, and the brown tabby she-cat gave her a firm, gentle look.
"Call me Applefrost."
Dawnkit's ears went flat, and she looked at the she-cat in resentment. "But Sparrowpaw gets to call you mommy!" she mewed, and Applefrost almost laughed at the comical look on the she-kit's face. She was very feisty for her age. She would've, but she couldn't, not when she was about to tell Dawnkit about her mother again.
"I'm his real mommy," she said, her voice soft like her fur. Dawnkit marveled at it. I want to be like her, she thought.
"So you're my fake mommy?" she asked, confused, and Applefrost sighed.
"No. That means that Sparrowkit came from me, and you came from another she-cat. She was very noble, a great hunter in her time. Her name was Willowleaf. She fell in love with a tom who was outside the clan, and as a result, she had you."
"Where is she?" Dawnkit asked bluntly, and Applefrost flinched.
"She's gone now," the queen said elusively. "She joined StarClan, all the way up there in the sky."
Dawnkit thought about this for a second, but Applefrost could see that she was still too young to fully understand. Then, "So I'm a half clan, like Redpaw says I am?"
"Yes," Applefrost meowed, relieved to be off the topic of Willowleaf.
"Why didn't she just fall in love with someone in the clan?" Dawnkit asked, flicking her tiny orange ears.
"Because love doesn't work like that, sweetie. That's enough questions for now," Applefrost murmured, drawing the little fiery she-kit to her side and sighing. "I might not be your real mommy, but I love you just as much as I love Sparrowkit, and nothing will ever change that. Okay?"
Dawnkit suddenly drooped a little bit. "Okay," she said through a big yawn.
One day she would understand, Applefrost thought, watching Dawnkit sadly.

By the time she was an apprentice, Dawnpaw understood what Applefrost had meant. She was so used to the idea of it that it really had no affect on her by then, though; when cats dodged the topic, she told them not to bother. After all, she hadn't known this Willowleaf cat. As far as Dawnpaw was concerned, Applefrost was her real mother. Of course, she still wondered what it would have been like if Willowleaf was still alive, although she guessed she wouldn't be in the clan. Someone else had told her that her mother had committed suicide by swallowing death berries. She always shuddered at the thought, wondering how it would feel to be so attached to someone that you couldn't live without them. In a strange way, she wanted it, despite what it had done to Willowleaf.
However, even though the whole concept of being a half-clan had never bothered Dawnpaw, it clearly bothered other cats and was starting to bother her. Why couldn't they see that she wasn't any different than them? She was still just as much a part of LakeClan as they were. However, she was constantly being ridiculed, and everyone told her she wouldn't go very far. "You've got mud in your blood," they'd say. "You'll be bad at everything you try."
She was determined to prove them wrong.

Raventail, Dawnpaw's mentor, had had misgivings about her apprentice from the start. The little half-clan, that tiny she-cat? That was her apprentice? She'd scoffed. There was no way she was ever getting anywhere with that, she thought.
How ever wrong she was.
The fire with which Dawnpaw threw herself into her training blew Raventail away. At fifty moons, she'd had her fair share of apprentices, and none of them had held quite the determination of Dawnpaw. And besides that, she was good, especially with fighting. As another of the few she-cats who specialize in fighting, Raventail quickly came to regret her assumptions and respected Dawnpaw.

Dawnpaw, however, was more miserable than ever. She'd clearly proven herself better than those other apprentices, and still, two moons after her apprentice ceremony, they tortured her with their awful comments!
They didn't tell her she would be a failure anymore, though. They only grew more vicious, calling her an over-achiever, a suck-up, a fake, a cheater, and a whole slew of other nasty things. Every comment stung. At night, she'd cry into her bedding, and in the morning she was made fun of for it.
One day, she stormed out of camp and just sat in a clearing, crying. Raventail had followed Dawnpaw and watched her, staying silent for a while until Dawnpaw's sobbing quieted. The orange-pelted she-cat then turned her face to the sky and said, plainly and clearly, "I want to kill myself."
Raventail laughed, shocking Dawnpaw. "No, you don't."
"Then I want to leave," she shot back, another shudder running down her sides as she turned her wide green eyes on Raventail. "I can't take it anymore. I just can't, Raventail."
The black she-cat snorted, making Dawnpaw flinch. Raventail situated herself in front of Dawnpaw, staring at her with steady amber eyes. "Grow up," she said.
Dawnpaw stared at her. She had expected the special, tactful sort of reassurance that Applefrost gave, she realized. Dawnpaw knew better than that; Raventail was not nearly as wordy as Applefrost.
"Those cats are worthless. They're only as vicious as their vocabularies; not a single one of them can fight like you do. And don't even look at me like I'm a liar," Raventail said sharply. "You've got a gift. Next time they bother you, use it. And then they'll never bother you again."
Dawnpaw gaped after her mentor as she left. She certainly didn't feel much better after that, but despite her outward aggression, Raventail was wise.

The next day, Dawnpaw was grabbing a vole off the fresh-kill pile when an apprentice came over to her and whispered, "Fed the elders yet, you little cheat? How about that mentor of yours? She's ancient."
Dawnpaw tensed, thinking of Raventail's advice. Practice self-control, another voice said, this one belonging to Applefrost. "You're not very bright," she said evenly, and the apprentice snorted.
"At least I'm not a stupid half-clan like you."
And suddenly, magically, Dawnpaw's self-control dissipated. She whipped around and swiped her claws, lightning-fast across his face. She stood rigidly, looking at him without emotion as he started crying. "I'm not stupid," she said quietly, and he sobbed, looking up at her through the blood.
Then, she walked away.

She got to use a different set of skills one day as a couple of kits were playing near the lake. Their mother had been distracted, looking at her third kit, who had just climbed a tree and was shouting for her to watch his moves.
The two playing by the lake had found a fallen log that led out over the water, and they were tumbling along, not watching where they were going when the end of the fallen tree crumbled away, dumping them out into the lake. One screamed, immediately alerting her mother, but Dawnpaw was quicker- without thinking twice, she raced for the tree and nimbly picked her way across it before diving into the freezing water and putting the kits back on the log.
An eerie silence had fallen over the camp, and as she pulled herself up onto the log, she became aware of cats staring at her from all over. Her skin crawled with discomfort. Anybody would've done it, she thought.

Over the next three moons, Dawnpaw had received little to no insulting comments. Redclaw, the cat she'd scratched, hadn't even looked at her since the incident; she'd told Raventail about it, and her mentor had laughed.
"Perfect," she said. Now, Dawnpaw stood with Applefrost and Raventail, watching Sparrowpaw's ceremony. Her brother stood perfectly at attention, gazing intently up at Froststar.
He was named Sparrowstorm, and his virtues were courage and understanding.
Then it was her turn.
She squared her shoulders and prepared to walk forward as Sparrowstorm came back. His green eyes were glittering.
"Good luck," he whispered.
She padded forward, her heart beating faster as she approached the base of the High Tree. This was it.
Dawnpaw listened closely to the words as they left Froststar's mouth. She was named brave and fearless, traits that surprised her.
"Dawnflight," he named her, his old voice forming the word carefully, as if he were testing it out.
The name flooded Dawnp- flight -with a sudden surge of pride. This was her he was talking about. This brave, fearless cat, who by his description sounded noble and selfless, was the cat who'd been ridiculed all her life.

As she went back to Sparrowstorm to congratulate him again, she suddenly noticed that she was just as tall as him. She was no longer that scrawny little apprentice, with awkwardly long legs that didn't seem to make her any taller. She was bigger, broader, much more muscular; now her legs would be described as willowy, not awkward, and she was taller than the average she-cat. With a sudden, wicked grin, she looked at Sparrowstorm.
"Nice to meet you, Sparrowstorm,"
He looked at her thoughtfully for a second. "Funny how you say that when I've known you all my life, Dawnflight. You just didn't know you."
Dawnflight blinked at him in surprise. He was right; she hadn't fully known herself before now. In fact, she still believed that there was a lot more to discover.

Dawnflight's life, a moon into being a warrior, went downward a little bit. A harsh, bitter cold leafbare came and started taking out cats left and right. Raventail, as tiny and old as she was, was one of the first to go; it also took several of Dawnflight's friends. And even though the cold in particular didn't take Applefrost, it made her deathly ill with a sickness that the medicine cat and apprentice had never encountered before. Thankfully, it didn't appear to be contagious, but it took Applefrost's life within three days of her contracting it.
Through that entire leafbare, Dawnflight had to fight off the creeping grief that would randomly sneak up on her. However, the arrival of newleaf brought hope to everyone, and it also brought kits. Dawnflight had a deep fascination with kits, the one thing she had in common with the other she-cats.

[Kitty-lover93]

Name; Littlesong

Age; 24 moons

Gender; She-cat

Rank; Warrior

Desired Rank; None

Mother; Unknown

Father; Unknown

Foster mother; Aspenfoot

Foster father; Darkstripe

Mentor; Firestep

Apprentice(s); None

Crush; None yet

Mate; None, but wants

"ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ ʙᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ."

WIP

[Kitty-lover93]

Ƭнєу яιѕє ωιтн тнє ѕυη...


вυт ι яιѕє υρ вєfσяє ιт.

Young | Patient | Friendly | "The reasonable one"

Ｈｏｎｅｙｃｌｏｕｄ

➤ Name;

↠ Honeycloud.

➤ Age;

↠ 23 moons.

➤ Gender;

↠ She-cat.

➤ Rank;

↠ Warrior.

➤ Most prominent traits;

↠ Friendliness
↠ Gentleness
↠ Patience

➤ Biological mother;

↠ Cherrystream.

➤ Biological father;

↠ Shadowstorm.

➤ Foster parents;

↠ None.

➤ Siblings;

↠ None.

➤ Mentor;

↠ Flamepelt ('Half-sight.')

➤ Apprentice(s);

↠ None, but will accept.

➤ Fur color;

↠ Ginger and white.

➤ Eye color;

↠ Amber-yellow

➤ Crush;

↠ Will develop <3

➤ Mate;

↠ Definitely wants.

➤ Kits;

↠ Definitely wants.

➤ Personality;

↠ WIP

➤ History;

↠ Honeycloud has led a particularly normal clan life so far. She was born to two clan cats named Cherrystream and Shadowstorm. She takes after her mother, Cherrystream, in looks; she has light ginger tabby markings where she has tabby, as opposed to Shadowstorm's gray tabby. However, she took all the white that's on her from her father; her mother was a full-on tabby while her father was tabby and white. She was born with a sibling who was a solid gray tabby, Silverkit, and a rather tragic story goes with her.
One day, Silverkit was playing by a stream; Cherrystream had gotten special permission to take them for a drink of water, as it was a particularly dry greenleaf. However, the stream's tide happened to be rather high, and Silverkit- as bold as she was -wandered out into the current and was swept under the surface and away. The clan searched, but unfortunately, Silverkit was lost forever.
Honeycloud barely remembers her sister; all she really remembers is her sister's silver pelt and her daredevil tendencies. Honeycloud does at times wonder what it would have been like to have a sister like she was supposed to, but she supposes that it is what it is.

When Honeykit became Honeypaw, she was given to Flamepelt as an apprentice. Flamepelt had an actual red pelt as opposed to her pale ginger, and he did almost resemble a flame when he went out into the sunlight. He was a senior warrior of about fifty-five moons and was highly respected among the clan. He was large, with a scar that stretched across his muzzle and kind yellow eyes that invited her in every time she looked at him.
To say the very least, she was starstruck by the tom. At first she was so nervous that she couldn't do anything right. However, within the next half a moon, she'd become close to Flamepelt and had matured a little bit; if she was ever going to get anywhere, she reasoned, she would have to take all of his advice and perform her best.
As much as she matured, Honeycloud still remained an average she-cat throughout her career as an apprentice, neither excelling in hunting nor fighting. She grew from a squirrelly, giggly apprentice into a reasonable, sweet, mature she-cat.

When it came to her warrior ceremony, this is what got Honeycloud her name. She took it proudly; she really liked the name. Honeycloud. It fit.
When she was fifteen moons and Flamepelt was sixty-four moons, a fox appeared in the territory and they were both called out on a patrol to get rid of it. During this ordeal, Flamepelt lost an eye and badly injured his leg while saving Honeycloud from almost certain death. Because of these, he retired to the elders' den and took on the name half-sight. He told Honeycloud that he wanted the name because he wanted to be remembered by the day he saved her. From then on, he walked with a limp and cracked blind jokes out to the apprentices who came along. He was easily the most favored elder.
Other than the loss of her parents when she was twenty moons- they were both taken by greencough -the rest of Honeycloud's career as a warrior has been rather uneventful.

[Kitty-lover93]

ｓｏ ｃｌｏｓｅ ａｎｄ ｓｏ ｆａｒ ａｗａｙ

Name; Thrushclaw.

Age; 28 moons.

Gender; Tom.

Rank; Warrior.

Desired rank; Deputy.

Mother; Willowstripe; deceased.

Father; Graytalon; deceased.

Foster parents; None.

Siblings; None; only kit.

Mentor; Raventail; deceased.

Apprentice(s); None, but wants.

Fur color; Brown tabby.

Eye color; Light green.

Prominent trait; His loyalty.

Crush; None.

Mate; None.

Kits; None.

Other; None.

Personality; Thrushclaw can immediately be called three things by just about every cat who knows him: Fiercely loyal, hard-working, and friendly. He will listen to just about any order given to him, and he goes above and beyond with almost every task he's given. He's naturally this way; his parents pounded it into his mind that if he worked extra-hard, he would go places in life. Thrushclaw is also quite friendly, although with his eagerness to work, it leaves him little to no room for any real social life. He wishes to change that, but it's very difficult for him to really talk to others without being overly polite or slightly bashful. He's quite introverted due to his focus on his ambition, and has a tendency toward being awkward in conversations. Despite his lack of confidence in his ability to speak well in front of others, Thrushclaw deeply aspires to become the deputy of MoonClan one day. It has been his dream ever since he was little, hearing stories of all the great leaders of the past and imagining himself in them. However, he's not the aggressive, hot-headed sort of tom that would get angry if he wasn't made deputy.

History; Thrushclaw, like most warriors, has had a pretty normal life. He was born to the warriors Willowstripe and Graytalon as an only kit, and was therefore slightly pampered. His parents adored him; they had had trouble even having him, as the medicine cat reported that there must be something wrong with Willowstripe's reproductive system. She had already miscarried two litters of kits and had had three stillborn ones before Thrushclaw, and at thirty-six moons, she was starting to give up hope. Graytalon, cheerful as he was, told her that StarClan was waiting to give them the perfect kit, urging her to keep up hope.

And so, when they had Thrushclaw and he was big and healthy, they were absolutely ecstatic. Despite his reassurances, Graytalon himself had been worried that they would never conceive kits. They weren't quite sure how they decided on the name Thrushkit. "It just felt right," Willowstripe would say adoringly, gazing proudly at her young kit. "It is a rather noble name, isn't it?"

As Thrushkit grew, his parents started urging him to work hard. They would give him tasks to carry out for the first half of the day and would allow him to play with the other kits from sunhigh on. Despite their spoiling him, they were very ambitious cats, and they wanted to see Thrushkit grow into someone the clan would remember. Thrushkit always had problems with being social, however; he would go off alone, studying cats around camp or playing on his own.
"Go play," Willowstripe would murmur to her son.
"I am," he would reply innocently, big green eyes sparkling as he looked up at her.

As an apprentice, Thrushpaw found that he excelled at nothing. We wasn't terrible, but he wasn't the greatest either; he seemed to be equally adequate at both hunting and fighting, even when he would practice moves for hours after a training session. This took up most of his six moons as an apprentice; he would get trained by Raventail, practice the moves, and never really talk to anyone. One day in leafbare, his mother contracted greencough and grew deathly ill; the medicine cat tried to save her, but she died very quickly. Thrushpaw buried his grief in work, practicing and practicing until he was too exhausted to continue. He had no real friends throughout his apprenticeship.

Thrushpaw was named Thrushclaw for his focus on fighting as opposed to hunting.

[Kitty-lover93]

ｔｈｅ ｌｅａｄｅｒ

➤ Name;

↠ Sootwhisker.

➤ Age;

↠ 28 moons.

➤ Gender;

↠ She-cat.

➤ Rank;

↠ Warrior.

➤ Most prominent traits;

↠ Acceptance
↠ Charisma
↠ Sociability

➤ Biological mother;

↠ Cedarstripe.

➤ Biological father;

↠ Stormheart.

➤ Foster parents;

↠ Skystream.

➤ Siblings;

↠ Brightpaw and unnamed.

➤ Mentor;

↠ Flamepelt ('Half-sight.')

➤ Apprentice(s);

↠ None, but will accept.

➤ Fur color;

↠ Black and white.

➤ Eye color;

↠ Pale yellow-green.

➤ Crush;

↠ Searching

➤ Mate;

↠ Definitely wants.

➤ Kits;

↠ Definitely wants.

➤ Personality;

↠ Sootwhisker is one of those cats that everyone knows and talks to. Her three most prominent traits are acceptance, charisma, and sociability. First of all, Sootwhisker is easily one of the least prejudiced cats around. To her, social divisions mean about as much as dirt to a clean nest. She absolutely despises them, and she makes that opinion well-known by defending the underdog without pause. She could be described as fearless in the way that she jumps to the occasion. However, cats often resent her for telling them off like this, so she isn't really 'friends' with everybody.

The word charisma is often mistaken to be someone's ability to talk without being very awkward. Yes, that is part of it, but that definition better fits the term 'social confidence.' Charisma is that natural ability to lead. With her quick wits, sociability, and a strange sort of magnetic draw, Sootwhisker is oddly charismatic. This is strange because she is not a very ambitious cat and has never really dreamed of progressing past warrior. Because of this, she often ends up heading patrols and devising plans when needed. Along with her charisma is her sociability. Sootwhisker is very easy to talk to; she isn't awkward, and she's capable of keeping it interesting while also hearing the cat on the other end of the conversation out. She also has a sense of humor, but is usually the one laughing instead of dealing out jokes.

Most would believe that Sootwhisker is completely comfortable with herself from the way she's able to talk to others, but the truth is that she isn't. She envies she-cats who are strikingly beautiful and cats who find it easy to get a mate. Pretty much the only thing she doesn't talk about is her love life, as she is very inexperienced and finds that embarrassing to admit.

➤ History;

↠ Sootwhisker has had a bit of a troubled life in the clan. She was born premature to Cedarstripe and Stormheart along with two other kits, one stillborn. Her father, Stormheart, was a highly respected senior warrior and was the greatest hunter of his time. Her mother, Cedarstripe, had been the deputy for three moons before she had become pregnant and resigned the position to become a mother. However, she had had problems with depression before, and they crept back again during her pregnancy. Because of her stress, the three kits were born premature, one stillborn, and she died during the kitting. Stormheart became depressed, in turn, as half his family abruptly died; he let the stillborn kit go unnamed and gave the two kits to Skystream, a queen who had had a sickly kit that had died the day before and still had milk for a litter of kits. He told her that their names were Brightkit and Sootkit, Brightkit for her vibrant orange and white markings and Sootkit for her black and white markings. From then on, he focused on his work and never really visited the two she-kits.

Brightkit and Sootkit were polar opposites. Where Sootkit was outgoing, Brightkit was very reclusive. Actually, Brightkit was mute. This is where Sootkit developed her hate for social boundaries. Where she shot up, Brightkit was one of the most made-fun-of kits in the clan. As kits and apprentices, Sootpaw never defended her sister. They'd never been close. However, Sootpaw deeply regretted this when Brightpaw abruptly turned up dead. The medicine cat pronounced that Brightpaw had eaten deathberries.

And so Sootpaw hated herself for moons. Why hadn't she cared for her sister? What was wrong with her?
She strove to fix it, fiercely defending any cats that were bullied and telling the bullies to shove off. This is also where her protectiveness and defensiveness stem from.

When Sootpaw became a warrior, she was named Sootwhisker for her keen senses.

[Kitty-lover93]

Name: Isobel Lorraine West

Age: Seventeen

Gender: Female

Nickname(s): Izzie

Power: Firebender

Hair color: Red

Hair appearance: Naturally curly

Usually (pretty much always) down

Eye color: Brown

Skin: Pale

Few freckles

Doesn't have acne problems

Height: 5'5 1/2

Weight: 117 lbs.

Build: Slim

Well-muscled everywhere

Long legs

Style: Specially treated clothing (fire proofed stuff)
This includes:
Simple, practical tank tops and t-shirts
Yoga pants or stretchy shorts
One pair of jeans
A black leather jacket
One ponytail holder (rarely used)
One belt
One pair of tennis shoes
One pair of flip-flops
All in colors that don't clash with her hair.

Personality: Straight-forward
blunt
fiery
Sharp-tongued
Sarcastic
Independent
Hardly ever friendly
Has trust issues
Hot-headed
Honest (sometimes brutally)
Volatile
Brave
Bold
Fierce
Fiercely loyal (to good friends)
Very protective

Biological mother: Ava West

Deceased

Biological father: Tristan West

Unknown whereabouts

Hasn't seen since little

Siblings: Only child

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Boyfriend: Open

Crush: None

Other: None.

______________

Isobel West. You probably won't say it often, my name, because chances are? I've already burned that bridge to the ground. Quite literally, that is, as I do work with fire, you know. See? There's already something about me to get over, other than the fact that you're getting pretty annoyed that I keep telling you just how much you won't like me in a little bit. Anyways, if you're still here and you're still stubbornly interested in sort of being friends, you can call me Izzie. I'm a Firebender- the firebender, mind you -and so I can make fire in my hands, in my hair, and with my mind. My specialty, as you have probably already deducted, is destroying. Creation? Ha. As if. Anyways, if it means anything to you, I'm seventeen years old and I'm already on a mission to destroy things.

If I had to describe myself in one word, what would it be? Fiery. Ha-ha, laugh it out now, because that word pretty much sums me up. I produce fire, my hair is the color of fire, I act like fire, I am fire. I'm pretty dang straight-forward, and believe or not, I hate drama with a passion. I'm one of the few girls who doesn't run around stabbing everybody in the back all the time, although if you really make me mad- which really isn't hard to do at all -you'd better watch out. My trust isn't one easily, and it's never won twice. If you make me angry, you'd better hope that you are just as fireproof as I am, because I'm not going to hold anything back. Besides that, even if I'm not mad, I'm not going to tiptoe around to preserve your feelings. You know what? I'll give it to you like it is. If you look ugly in those shoes- which by the way you do -you can expect me to say it.

Favorites? You just asked me to tell you what my favorite color is? You're really stupid. My favorite color is the color of a fire. That pretty much means that I don't have a favorite, since fires can burn green, blue, red, orange, yellow... pretty much the whole rainbow. Plus black and gray, the color of coals and ashes, the beautiful results of my work. What's my favorite element? Water! It's fire, you idiot. I don't have a favorite animal, but I can definitely say I hate anything cold-blooded- since they are usually cold to the touch -and anything that comes out of the arctic. My favorite climate can be described as the sun. The hotter the better; anywhere normal people sweat, dehydrate, and have heat strokes in, I thrive. Ha-ha, I've heard Hell Girl before, so shut up before you become my next favorite climate.

You must be blind. Well, I can quite literally be described as hot. My hair is long, naturally curly, and naturally red, unlike all you other fire engine wannabes. Either use red or fiery while describing my hair for future reference, so I don't have to singe your eyebrows off, even though that'd be hilarious. Also, I can generate real flames in my hair. It's actually pretty amazing; I wish I could do it all the time, but I do get tired the more I use my power, so unfortunately I can't. Anyways, my eyes are brown with a very slight reddish hint when the sun hits them. My skin is pale and smooth, and I have a few freckles here and there but not too many. I stand with good posture at a whole whopping five feet and five inches tall, although many have learned before to never underestimate me. I weigh one hundred seventeen pounds and I am not very curvy, but if I ever did attract anyone, I wouldn't want it to be for that.

I'm only going to tell you my history once in all the time I'll ever know you, so listen up carefully. I was born on June twenty-first, the summer solstice- I'm convinced that wasn't much of a coincidence -to Ava and Tristan West. The last time I saw them, I was three years old. They never held me because I was hot to the touch and would constantly burn things. My mother had countless scars lining her arms from bedtimes, where she would lay out a blanket 'she really never liked anyways' on the kitchen floor and she would wrap me up in it. As a baby, I eventually burned my way through so many pillows and blankets and three cribs that they finally put me on the floor. I cost them a ton of money, since it only took energy to create a spark, and that spark could easily grow to a raging fire. I remember hearing my mom crying because she couldn't hold me one night. "I can't do it anymore," she whispered.

That was the night of the fire. In my anger I set the couch on fire, and the fire rapidly spread to the carpet, the walls, and the rest of the house. The fire alarms blared, and I sat there in the middle of it, my destruction, fierce pride and anger boiling inside me. This was good, this was right. The fire department extinguished the fire, and my father had to hold me and try to reassure the firefighters that he had had me the whole time, that he hadn't just badly burnt himself so that they wouldn't see an untouched three-year-old playing in the searing hot coals of her used-to-be couch.

I didn't and don't doubt that they loved me much more than they should have, but that was the last straw for them and I don't blame them. They did keep me for a few more months in the concrete garage where there was nothing I could really effectively destroy, but there were four break-ins in that time that scared them to death. In the last break-in, my mother was killed protecting my whereabouts before my father managed to fend the two men off. Then, that night- without pausing to grieve -he took me far away, into the city, where he hid me. He put me in an abandoned underground bomb shelter, where he locked me in. Every morning I would find a days' worth of food at the entrance, and I suspect that he put it there when I became smart enough to, but I don't know for sure because I never saw him after that.

That's it. Last time you'll ever hear that. The last order of business is my love life, which you can assume a lot about already, since I... burn people so easily. To be honest, I'm scared of love because of that. Anyways, I'm straight and always open. I... I have to go.

[Kitty-lover93]

Name: Chelsea Marie Lancaster
Age: Sixteen
Gender: Female
Nickname(s): None
House: Gryffindor
Blood status: Pureblood
House: Gryffindor

Hair color: Blonde
Hair appearance: Naturally straight
Usually braided or up
Eye color: Blue/Greenish-blue
Skin: Pale but not pasty;
little/no freckles
Doesn't have acne problems
Height: 5'7
Weight: 120 lbs.
Build: slim waist,
Curvy where it counts,
muscular arms and legs
Excelling subjects: Charms
flying
Favorite subjects: DADA
Charms
Activities: Quidditch (chaser)
Style: Simple tank tops
t-shirts
Jean shorts or jeans
Hoodies
no winter jackets
flats, flip-flops, or tennis shoes
Despises skirts
Personality: Straight-forward
blunt
flirtatious
humorous
Bold
finicky
Slightly materialistic
Intelligent
Slightly temperamental
Quick learner
Often sarcastic
Brave
Daredevil
Rebellious

Wand rigidity: Fairly flexible
Wood: Cypress
Core: Dragon heartstring
Length: 10 3/4 inches

Biological mother: Annabel Lancaster
Purebred; half Gryffindor, half Ravenclaw
Deceased
Biological father: Ronald Lancaster
Purebred; Gryffindor
Works for Ministry of Magic
Siblings: Only child
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Boyfriend: Open
Crush: None
Other: Her pet is Jazzy

______________

Hey. I'm Chelsea Lancaster, and I'm in my sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes, that means that I am sixteen years old. And yes, that means that if I wanted to, I could paralyze you with a flick of my wand. I'm a Gryffindor and proud, baby! Actually, before we get off the topic of wands, my wand is cypress with a core of dragon heartstring, and it is ten and three-quarters inches long.

In case you're blind or color blind or something, my hair is dirty blonde and my eyes are greenish-blue. I always say greenish-blue because in some lights, they appear light blue, and in others, they get a greenish tint. I like them much better with the green tint. I weigh in at one hundred twenty-six pounds and I'm about five feet, seven inches tall. I find it pretty dang hard to tan, which really. Freaking. Sucks. Oh well; I've been called beautiful before, of course. I don't know of very many people who haven't, but too many of them deny it! When they call me beautiful, I say I know. I'm proud to be me.

Now that you know all of my basic stuff, you can know some of my favorites and whatnot. My favorite subjects are Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, since they are mainly where I learn all the useful spells (and I'm good at them.) Let's see, some other favorites... my favorite color is green, like pine needles, my favorite animal is the cat, (I have one; her name is Jazzy) and my favorite pastime is seducing men. Haha, just kidding, just kidding! No, if I had to choose one, my favorite pastime would probably be playing Quidditch, as I'm a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team (Go Lions!)
...Although seducing men is pretty great.

If I had to describe myself, I'd definitely say that I'm used to getting treated well. I guess you could say I have only child syndrome, so it was sort of hard to adjust to Hogwarts and not getting preferential treatment, and I still have trouble fathoming what it would be like to have siblings even though I've spent six years with my dorm buddies. Beyond that... hm. Well, I've been told I'm pretty honest and straight-forward, and I'd like to think that I'm friendly even though I'm pretty sure most people consider me not. I'd also like to consider myself funny. I can at least say that I have a pretty great sense of humor, even if I'm not that good at coming up with jokes.

Hmm. Well, I don't really know what say about my history; what do you expect, some sixteen-year-long sob story? Psh, nope! I've led as normal a life as I probably possibly could, actually. I'm not a drama queen, you know. I know who I am and I know I'm beautiful and everything, but it's not like I try to turn everything into something it's not. Actually, I think I'm a pretty honest person. Anyways, I was born to Ronald and Annabel Lancaster on March fourth, two thousand two. Well, I guess I do have a bit of a sob story to tell. When I was two, my mother and my dad were on their honeymoon- yes, hate all you want, they had me before they were married -in Aruba. I was with my grandmother, who died about eleven years ago of cancer. Anyways, while my parents were in Aruba, they got into a terrible car crash, and while my dad managed to walk away with only a broken arm, a broken leg, and a concussion, my mother had broken about ten billion things including her neck and lived for about five hours in critical condition before she flatlined.

Don't you dare rush to say stupid crap like 'oh, I'm so sorry to hear that' or 'may God be with you.' First of all, you're not sorry to hear that because you never knew my mother. Second of all, God does not have to be with me just because I told you my mother died. Sure, I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a mother, but I didn't know her, so don't waste your breath.

Anyways, my dad never remarried, never dated, and never really talked to women after my mother died. Pretty much his entire life was split into two zones- before and after Annabel Lancaster's death -and in the after part of it, his work with the Ministry of Magic and me were (and still are) his whole life. I get care packages from him all the time, and I love it! They're mostly just chocolate and other forms of junk food, but I do occasionally get jewelry and stuff like that.

Well, I think that's pretty much it for my life! Oh, wait, there's still the love life to get to. I'm going to leave that particular aspect of myself short and sweet, since you seriously don't need to know all the little details. I've dated several guys in the past. I am heterosexual. So yeah, I'm straight. One hundred percent, no-doubt straight, too, not that I really have any major deal with homosexuality. And I am currently open to a relationship, but I'm not some desperate little girl, so don't expect me to come crawling at any guy who looks half-decent.