Post by Thyme on Sept 17, 2010 16:30:55 GMT -5
Name: Cloudfur
Gender: She-cat
Age: 47 moons
Clan: WindClan
Rank: Warrior
Apprentice: Open
Love Interest: Not open … not yet. Formerly Redfang.
Kin:
Son: Rustlepelt- Deceased
Daughter in law: Breezeflower, NPC
Grandson: Heathpaw, Heathclaw
Description:
Cloudfur is about of medium size, but very sturdy. Medium-length fur has a tendency to hide her muscles, often leading to the rather discouraging effect of other cats underestimating her. Nevertheless, her tough, lean WindClan build and hardened muscles always aid her in both battle and catching prey. Her body frame, as mentioned before, is a very solid, almost blocky physique, with a touch of feminine charm through her small paws and lively eyes. Long white whiskers frame her pointed, delicate face, while her cool, but brilliant green eyes appear to see and survey everything at once. In that manner, she can be a very busy cat, her eyes constantly seeking out the next thing, usually with an uninvited, critical observation on the side.
Like her namesake, the majority of Cloudfur’s pelt is a fine and bright creamy off-white color. Otherwise, her body is covered with a rather random pattern of black and ginger patches. A few of the patches have very faint ghosts of tabby markings. This is evident mostly in the ginger patches, where streaks of darker orange lurk as though submerged in shadow. On the darker patches, there are also tabby markings, but these are really only visible in direct sunlight, when the natural glow highlights and warms her fur down to the roots. A smudge of dark, muddy ginger fur is smeared sideways along her nose, and grows darker and less clearly defined close to the middle, right at the bridge. Her ears are both ginger-colored, but her tail continues the multi-shaded pattern, claiming both a dark and a rich orange patch that are dashed across the limb, as if some coffee-pumped artist had flung a glopping wet brush full of paint at her.
Personality:
Cloudfur is definitely a multi-faceted cat. She will quickly form opinions about other cats and continue to treat them however she sees fit. First appearances are a large part of her opinions and therefore incredibly high on the list of importance. Meaning, if a cat decides to step off a gorge in front of her, she will forever label the cat an idiot and will openly treat that cat as such. She doesn’t allow other cats to influence these opinions much, greatly preferring to be left alone in her formulating. If a cat makes a stupid mistake as an apprentice, she will snap this up and remember it for moons afterwards, sometimes even going so far as to subtly bring up said information much later. She tends to feel a great satisfaction from doing this; in making other cats remember the less…polished, for lack of a better term, parts of their life.
She is quite touchy and easily irritated by what might otherwise be considered mild occurrences. When something gets her fur ruffled, she isn’t quick to forget; more than happy to hold a grudge. Her subtle nurturing nature, however, tends to surface only when she is feeling completely comfortable in a situation. It can take quite some time to earn her trust, and it can be easily lost with one foolish move. Nevertheless, Cloudfur is a loyal cat with a great sense of honor, and is not one to betray when needed most. Her promises are hard to come by, but highly valued; and she will always follow through in a pinch.
History:
At the very end of leaf-bare, at the point where new-leaf is a tauntingly delicious short distance away, a senior she-cat warrior had just about given up on love. She was bitter and bold, loudly voicing her opinions at Clan meetings, but with-holding a sense of respect among her Clanmates if only for her age and experience. The she-cat went about her daily tasks with the diligence of a shovel digging a hole – she knew it was her duty and still derived pleasure from it on occasion, but it had for the most part dulled with age. She had once thrown herself whole-heartedly into her warrior duties day after day without a second thought, now the formerly joyful warrior could taste her life turn to dust in her throat. A new, terrifying grip seemed to fasten it’s claws around her heart and she could feel it tighten ominously.
It was shortly after her unpleasant realization that a curious instance occurred. A slightly younger male warrior entered into her life with a feeling similar to being struck with a falling acorn. Startling, to be sure, and uncertain as to where said object might have come from. There was also the brief tickling of pain that both excited and confused her at the same time. She soon discovered herself to be pregnant, a status that only heightened her newfound appreciation of Clan life.
A few moons later the she-cat gave birth to a pair of gorgeous kits that she immediately began to pour her overwhelming love into. Her days in the nursery were spent purring proudly alongside the young tom as they watched the two kits grow. The sputtering spark had been reignited in her chest, flaring into a beautiful flame of hope and expectations.
Cloudkit grew and was apprenticed to a sweet young she-cat called Strawberryfield, who was eager as any new warrior about her first apprentice. Strawberryfield instilled in Cloudpaw a love of her Clan, but was seldom fussy about her apprentice’s progress. Cloudpaw was uncomfortable and stiff in the coddled paws of her mentor, and soon developed a highly critical eye at analyzing her own development. She became frustrated at her mentor’s actions, interpreting them as a lack of care, as if Strawberryfield was unwilling to put her full effort into teaching her apprentice. Later on Cloudpaw would also attribute this to her apparent lack of experience.
Cloudpaw was trained in a time of conflict and bloodied borders. Only a moon before she became an apprentice, WindClan and ThunderClan declared war upon each other over the constant prey-stealing. This lasted her entire apprenticeship, and she was eager to prove her own worth in battle. Time and time again as patrols were dispatched to chase off the bold and belligerent ThunderClan cats, she remained at camp, her mentor keeping a worried eye on her at all times. Strawberryfield did not even want her to work delivering messages to the front along with the other apprentices. Cloudpaw didn’t get her chance until she was nearly twelve moons old. As the deputy dished out the day’s tasks, he assigned her to a patrol that was ordered to make it’s way along the Moonpool stream at the ThunderClan and WindClan border.
They were not expecting to be ambushed by a waiting ThunderClan patrol. Cloudpaw was plunged into battle unexpectedly, and rose surprisingly to meet the challenge. It didn’t take long for the WindClan cats to drive back ThunderClan, and Cloudpaw was left standing bright-eyed and exhilarated with the rest of her patrol. The first-time scuffle had got her blood racing and now even more eager to properly learn. Upon her return, Strawberryfield saw her apprentice’s state, and immediately became frantic. She doubled her fretful, smothering attention to the apprentice, going to further lengths to keep her safe by restricting her to camp and occasional hunting lessons.
Cloudpaw’s restlessness was noticed by the other warriors who finally spoke to Strawberryfield and managed to convince her that Cloudpaw was a capable apprentice who needed to be fully trained and appointed to warriorhood as soon as possible. They argued that there was no telling just when the war with ThunderClan would be over, and could use as many strong warriors as they could get. Eventually Strawberryfield agreed to trust her apprentice and within another moon, Cloudpaw found herself receiving her warrior name of Cloudfur. She became a warrior a bit later than normal: at thirteen moons, but Cloudfur was elated with her new position nevertheless.
Once a warrior, Cloudfur volunteered herself for patrols almost on a daily basis; her fresh eagerness for battle a welcome addition to the warrior ranks. The other warriors had been fighting the war for eight long, tiring moons. Four moons later Cloudfur met and fell in love with Redfang. Their relationship was reclusive; often times wandering off to meet privately. Eventually Cloudfur discovered that she was pregnant, and after two moons gave birth to a single kit. She named the tom Rustlekit, and looked forward to raising her first kit with her mate. Her hopes were sunk when she gave in and allowed Redfang to hide his parentage of the kit. Although Cloudfur did not fully understand his reasons, she trusted him enough to know what he was doing. Rustlekit grew up angry and dejected, fearful that his father thought him to be worthless. Cloudfur desperately tried to reassure the young tom that his father did indeed love him, but Rustlekit refused her words.
As Cloudfur watched her kit become an apprentice, she felt useless in her role as a mother. She had failed to make Rustlepaw happy, and could do nothing to fix it at this point. Redfang wouldn’t tell him, and she had promised not to reveal the truth. After leaving the nursery she seemed deflated; skulking dejectedly around camp, and lurking near the apprentice’s den. Whenever she talked to Rustlepaw she appeared bittersweet, longing to appease her son’s tumultuous, angry sense of ambition. He became a warrior and took the name Rustlepelt, still not knowing who his father was. Cloudfur watched the ceremony and burned with a mixture of pride and shame.
Cloudfur was in camp when Rustlepelt’s body was brought in by his fellow warriors. She saw, her eyes betraying what her heart denied to be true. Later that evening she approached Redfang and told him that he nurtured their son’s anger by cutting himself from their family, then left him for good. He was the cat she’d trusted, who she’d loved, and she’d been utterly destroyed. In retrospect, Cloudfur was just as angry at her consent to Redfang’s request when the kit was born as she was towards Redfang. She should have simply told her son, whispered to him some night the identity of his powerful, loving father. It hurt her that Russlepelt never felt his father’s love.
Only a few days after Russlepelt’s death, his son, Heathkit, was born. Cloudfur immediately seized this opportunity and spent a good deal of time loitering at the nursery, giving advice and instruction to Breezeflower on how to care for him. She cradled him, serving as an early teacher and protector. Although displeased that she was not named as mentor to Heathpaw, she also took great pleasure in the knowledge that Redfang did not even have a chance due to his current apprentice. She is a constant in the young apprentice’s life, always finding time to check in on his progress, and not passing down a chance to keep Redfang at a distance.
Other: Skeleton by the magnificent Heath.
Roleplay Example:
Brilliant flashes of light illuminated the silent clearing, each time exposing the chaos. Echoing blasts of thunder followed, so loud it seemed they would tear the sky. Rain spattered the earth, turning the dusty camp into a muddy field. Cats writhed in a dark sea of bodies in the open clearing, dashing around, trying to regain some sense of the situation.
“Rustlekit, stay here.” Cloudfur hissed, fearfully looking around at her kit. He was dripping with water and shaking. She had tried to dry him off as best she could, but inside the den it was wet as well. A few other queens had also squeezed into the unused badger set that served as a temporary den and were huddled around their kits. “Stay here with the other queens and kits. I’ll be back soon.” She gave the little tom a lick on the head and squeezed out of the badger set; leaving him nestled in the mossy den with the other kits. Rustlekit was old enough that he wouldn’t just wander around during a thunderstorm, still she felt a small worry creep into her chest as she took her first steps out of the den.
Rain soaked her pelt immediately, seeping cold through her fur in a most uncomfortable manner. She flicked her ears back and tried to shake some of the water off, but more collected just as quickly. Dark clouds clustered together overhead, cutting off all view of the sky. Cats were slipping and falling in the slick muddy surface that had formed, racing around madly as they tried to adjust to the sudden change in weather. There had been no clouds at all the previous evening, and the Clan had gone to sleep without concern. The Clan had been sleeping outside under the watchful cats of Silverpelt, and been startled by the sudden downpour. That had been only moments ago, and the queens immediately hustled into one of the disused badger sets. With an anxious glance back at the make-shift den, Cloudfur bounded forward into the clearing.
A pair of elders skidded blindly in the mud, and Cloudfur rushed over to help. Another cat reached them first and was helping one regain his paws. Cloudfur made her way to the elder’s side and supported the frail body with her own. She didn’t pay attention to the other cat until an unmistakable scent tickled her nostrils.
“Hello Redfang.” The she-cat murmured in surprise and leaned over to brush her cheek against his. His warm, comforting scent seemed to surround her. Instantly her mind escaped the dark, cold camp around her and jumped back to one of those lovely days they'd shared in green-leaf. She sighed, her eyes seeking Redfang's desperately. Her voice dropped to an unintentional whisper. “I miss you.”
