Post by Thyme on Aug 19, 2010 3:27:28 GMT -5
Name: Pinestorm
Gender: Tom
Age: 23 moons
Clan: ThunderClan
Rank: Warrior
Apprentice: None currently
Love Interest: Open, I suppose
Kin:
mother – Frostyshake (NPC)
father – Chicken-nugget (NPC)
brother - Fluffypaw (NPC)
others – many full and half siblings (NPC)
Description: Pinestorm is a rather mottled mix of gray, brown, and white. Most of his pelt is a creamy, coffee brown tone with patches of steely gray, darker brown, and white thrown in. All four of his paws are tipped with white, and he has banded, dark brown tabby markings on his legs that fade as they get closer to his body. A narrow strip of white – like a trickle of milk – separates his face in the middle, dividing his lively yellow-green eyes. His fur is about medium in length, but not incredibly thick, so despite the length, he still becomes chilly in more extreme temperatures. Brown tufts of fur stick out from his ears and between his toes, and his tail is as thick and furry as a bottlebrush.
He has always been a big cat: when an apprentice he was close to the size of a fully-grown warrior. Long, fluffy tabby fur serves to make him look even larger. Although his muscles are not terribly obvious, hidden beneath his fur, there’s no mistaking his strength. Although not particularly speedy, he is light on his feet, and more than meets the standards for size and power.
Personality: Pinestorm pays close attention to detail and instructions. He rarely hesitates to take orders, but does form strong opinions. Once on one side of an issue, it is almost impossible to sway his choice. He is incredibly loyal to his clan and friends, but is slightly distrusting of outsiders. However, it doesn’t take much to win him over. Just present him with a strong case supporting your side, and as long as he isn't fully committed to something else, he'll join up with you. Quiet, stoic, and a perfectionist, this tom also has a playful side, but one that has quieted down since being made a warrior. It is now rarely revealed.
He is also rather hot-headed, and quick to hurl back a retort - usually a physical one. He will defend his side of an issue to any cat, whether it is apprentice, warrior, or cats from other clans. Speaking of apprentices, he has little patience for them, despite his recent apprenticeship. He doesn’t like to waste the time to deal with them.
In battle, he is a ferocious, unrelenting flurry of a cat. His taste for battle is untempered, and he’ll fight without question, often times even pushing to clash with other cats. He will obey an order to attack without question. This makes him a bit unpopular with neighboring clans, as well as different-minded cats in his own clan.
Because of his loyal, trusting nature, he can also be slightly gullible. His bold, unbridled rage at being misguided, however, is nothing to mess with. Of course, this is only an issue if he figures it out faster than the other cat can flee. In short, he’s not the most intelligent cat. He almost certainly never thinks things through entirely. Indeed, his personality is close to something resembling an attack dog, poised for the command, and he feels no need to strain himself thinking about silly consequences. But, he will take risks if told. Not the silly “If I told you to jump off a cliff” sort of idea, but, if it’s for a cause that he believes to be good, he’ll risk anything. When left without guidance he can usually occupy himself, but this isn’t a good thing. He feels bored, confused, and unsure of what to do. He tends to wander both physically and mentally (to a limited extent) until he has stumbled upon something to engage in.
History: Pinestorm was born late, just as the chill of leaf-bare began to grip the forest. His mother, nearly an elder when she gave birth, was weak from the combination of the labor, her age, and the time of year. Although the leaf-bare was not incredibly harsh, aside from the later bout of greencough in ShadowClan and ThunderClan, prey was scarce as usual. She never seemed to fully recover, suffering a miserable leaf-bare with her two surviving kits. As soon as her kits were old enough to be apprenticed, she moved out of the nursery into the elder’s den. Having already given five other litters to the Clan, she never took much of an interest in her last litter’s ascension through the Clan. Their mother was never much of a warrior, and spent most of her time in the nursery as a queen. Even during the short periods when she was not dealing with her own, she lived with the other queens, caring for the kits. She was so worn out and exhausted at the end of her life that she didn’t really care for anything anymore.
Her lack of interest, however, hardly affected Pinestorm. He spent time with his fading mother, even as she gazed at him with unknowing eyes. The Clan took care of her, sure, but he felt a duty more than anything else to care for her. His personal responsibility was spawned not from love, but he scarcely faltered in his guardianship of the cat who’d brought him into the world. He felt an infinite loyalty to her, attending to her religiously, although she never returned his unspoken feelings. She endlessly called him the names of his uncountable older brothers and sisters, and he in turn learned to ignore any blood ties except his littermate, Fluffykit. She grew weaker and finally died before he was made a warrior. Pinestorm was anything but heartbroken. He had, sadly, never really developed a true bond with his mother.
His brother quickly came down with greencough about two moons after their birth. Although he managed to survive, he stayed sickly until his early death as an apprentice. Pinestorm was upset at his brother’s death, but did not mourn for long. He simply put more into his own training, focusing strictly on battle and hunting techniques instead of playing and making friends like most young cats his age. He never had a doubt that he would become a warrior, but was nevertheless proud of himself when receiving his warrior name at 11 moons of age. Since that time he has served his Clan faithfully.
Other: Nothing I can think of
Roleplay Example:
“Run.” The tabby warrior hissed, lips drawing back in a snarl. His green eyes practically shot loathing in a beam that would suck even Scotty up. Claws lashed forward, scraping at the dry, cracked earth underfoot as the she-cat leapt out of the way. Crumbling clods of dirt sprayed into the air and his claws dug furrows into the ground. Pinestorm’s ears flattened tight against his head, “Get off my territory!” his voice raised into a screech as he stared the invader down. Spittle flung from his open jaws with the force of his cry, flecking the parched earth with foam. His fur bristled, making his already massive body look that much bigger. With a furious yowl, the tom leapt forward to meet the she-cat’s outstretched claws. His tail lashed in the air, whipping around him like a dark cloud with a likelihood of thunderstorms. Feeling needle-like claws dig into his shoulder, Pinestorm retaliated with a deep bite to her hind leg. Fangs clamped down on the thin she-cat’s limb, holding firmly as she wriggled fiercely. She squealed sharply, and he released her, then immediately grasped for her flank. His claws raked across her side, felt nothing but air under his paws, then fell to the ground, his grip lost. The tom spun around, seeking another hold on the intruder, too angry for words. He felt something wet seeping through the thick fur on his shoulder, and a sudden stabbing pain, but turned to face the she-cat again. To his surprise, she had gone, withdrawn from their side of the border.
“Beat it!” he snarled to the retreating tail of the she-cat, still feeling the pain in his shoulder. He watched the gray cat until she vanished into ShadowClan territory, somewhere in the direction of the Twoleg nest. Well, at least he thought it was somewhere in that direction. At any rate, the loner would be ShadowClan’s problem now.
“That she-cat did more damage than I thought,” he muttered, wincing as he moved his shoulder experimentally. At least he’d accomplished something with his free time. Any loner – especially the one he’d chased off – would think twice about straying onto ThunderClan territory again. He only hoped the she-cat would pass on word to any other wandering cats in the area, to tell them of the tenacity of those “terrifying wild cats”. A little rumor was good sometimes, if it meant a little peace. Wincing again at the pain, the tom turned away and headed back towards camp.
