Post by +)-()Crooks()-(+ on Mar 27, 2006 4:41:37 GMT
Name: Crookedwater.
Clan: Springclan.
Rank: Deputy.
Age: 27 moons.
Gender: Tom.
Picture or description: Crookedwater has black hairs that nearly push out his under coat of white. You'd be lucky to get a glimpse of the white specks, for the only chance would be when his fur was ruffled. Of course, that rarely happens. He's a freak of nature when it comes to his coat. His tail was broken quite a few times when he was a kit, in three places to be exact. All three near the top. His claws are one of the most odd things about his looks, since they're nearly black. Though, he never tends to sharpen his claws unless he knows there's a battle coming up, then he'll spend all of his waking hours fixing them. To his face, his eyes are a shy yellow. They don't stick out too much from his face, and he tends to keep his face down. Though, let's not get into his personality quite yet. His left ear has a small tear in it, caused in a nasty battle between another apprentice, but that's another story.
Personality: Crookedwater is slightly shy when it comes to others, but it proves useful in his decision making. If he talked to others, he'd have to question himself if they didn't agree. He often takes risks, but usually (hopefully) they pay off. He's quiet to others, but if you listen in on when he's alone, you can hear him screeching at himself. Crookedwater often talks to himself, and disapproves of himself. Though, that's my cat we're talking about. He also has it ups. It really depends on the day. If he feels good, and something good has happened to him recently, he'll feel much better to talk to others. Hey, he might even decide to go hunting with you if you’re really lucky.
History: This cat's life was fairly normal. Or normal to his standards. He can't quite recall his first year of life, but is told that it was a little odd. Of course, not that he believes it. Then again, here it is. Told to him by a passed elder, Crookedkit was found on the Summerclan border, with no scent but the forest washed upon him. It was obvious he wasn't from the clans, but they treated him as such. He was swept away with another batch of kits, and treated like he was one of them. And in truth, he really was at heart. He had nothing else to believe in then. His apprenticeship had been normal, often filled with quarrelling with the others. That's when, as the elder told him, he got his torn ear. One of his supposed brothers got hold of him during a fight about who was better. The funny things apprentices fight about. Just shy of a year, he was made an apprentice. He beat his brother to it, and Crookedtail was proud of it. His greeting into being a warrior was normal, and all the cats seemed proud to have him as their own, but of course, weren’t they always? There had only been one other major event in his life, and that was the loss of his brother. It had hit him harder then anything ever could. Even though he was always so mad at his brother, he still respected him as one. Since then, he had been quite a bit softer around camp. The other cats saw him less, and he tended to the shadows of some old trees. But, still to happen in his life, was the acceptance to become the Deputy of Springclan, which, he was held for a few moons.
Rping Example: The rippling of the water could be heard slightly from the current position of the dark cat. His movement easily slipped between the shadows of the forest, and his yellow eyes dropped to the ground he was following. His mouth was parted open, tasting the air as he was running along. Nothing new but more Springclan scent. "How boring. No action." He muttered under his breath, only pausing for the moment to say that. He continued his path until the Summerclan border. A heavy sigh was gained, and the swift movements of running where on track again. This had been a fairly quick go around the borders, yet he had craved some action. Something to report back to the leader. He always craved that. Something to make him stand out, yet he never quite achieved. Still, he made his way, breaths heavy on his throat. He had been running so long, even his legs had begun to ache. Such a pain life could be, yet it was what all creatures took for granted, and only the dead wished for. Though, what did the dead have to do with any of this? They are dead, and that's the past. All the thoughts the black cat held within his mind went black themselves. The only thing left for him was the swift movement of his legs, and the heavy breath in the air.
Clan: Springclan.
Rank: Deputy.
Age: 27 moons.
Gender: Tom.
Picture or description: Crookedwater has black hairs that nearly push out his under coat of white. You'd be lucky to get a glimpse of the white specks, for the only chance would be when his fur was ruffled. Of course, that rarely happens. He's a freak of nature when it comes to his coat. His tail was broken quite a few times when he was a kit, in three places to be exact. All three near the top. His claws are one of the most odd things about his looks, since they're nearly black. Though, he never tends to sharpen his claws unless he knows there's a battle coming up, then he'll spend all of his waking hours fixing them. To his face, his eyes are a shy yellow. They don't stick out too much from his face, and he tends to keep his face down. Though, let's not get into his personality quite yet. His left ear has a small tear in it, caused in a nasty battle between another apprentice, but that's another story.
Personality: Crookedwater is slightly shy when it comes to others, but it proves useful in his decision making. If he talked to others, he'd have to question himself if they didn't agree. He often takes risks, but usually (hopefully) they pay off. He's quiet to others, but if you listen in on when he's alone, you can hear him screeching at himself. Crookedwater often talks to himself, and disapproves of himself. Though, that's my cat we're talking about. He also has it ups. It really depends on the day. If he feels good, and something good has happened to him recently, he'll feel much better to talk to others. Hey, he might even decide to go hunting with you if you’re really lucky.
History: This cat's life was fairly normal. Or normal to his standards. He can't quite recall his first year of life, but is told that it was a little odd. Of course, not that he believes it. Then again, here it is. Told to him by a passed elder, Crookedkit was found on the Summerclan border, with no scent but the forest washed upon him. It was obvious he wasn't from the clans, but they treated him as such. He was swept away with another batch of kits, and treated like he was one of them. And in truth, he really was at heart. He had nothing else to believe in then. His apprenticeship had been normal, often filled with quarrelling with the others. That's when, as the elder told him, he got his torn ear. One of his supposed brothers got hold of him during a fight about who was better. The funny things apprentices fight about. Just shy of a year, he was made an apprentice. He beat his brother to it, and Crookedtail was proud of it. His greeting into being a warrior was normal, and all the cats seemed proud to have him as their own, but of course, weren’t they always? There had only been one other major event in his life, and that was the loss of his brother. It had hit him harder then anything ever could. Even though he was always so mad at his brother, he still respected him as one. Since then, he had been quite a bit softer around camp. The other cats saw him less, and he tended to the shadows of some old trees. But, still to happen in his life, was the acceptance to become the Deputy of Springclan, which, he was held for a few moons.
Rping Example: The rippling of the water could be heard slightly from the current position of the dark cat. His movement easily slipped between the shadows of the forest, and his yellow eyes dropped to the ground he was following. His mouth was parted open, tasting the air as he was running along. Nothing new but more Springclan scent. "How boring. No action." He muttered under his breath, only pausing for the moment to say that. He continued his path until the Summerclan border. A heavy sigh was gained, and the swift movements of running where on track again. This had been a fairly quick go around the borders, yet he had craved some action. Something to report back to the leader. He always craved that. Something to make him stand out, yet he never quite achieved. Still, he made his way, breaths heavy on his throat. He had been running so long, even his legs had begun to ache. Such a pain life could be, yet it was what all creatures took for granted, and only the dead wished for. Though, what did the dead have to do with any of this? They are dead, and that's the past. All the thoughts the black cat held within his mind went black themselves. The only thing left for him was the swift movement of his legs, and the heavy breath in the air.