Post by Oracle on Jun 26, 2007 20:26:30 GMT -5
Name| Moonpelt
Gender| She-cat
Age| 14 moons.
Clan| FrostClan
Rank| Warrior.
Description| Moonpelt is a slender, graceful looking she-cat that is rather small for her age. She is rightfully named, as her pelt - which is a light silver with tabbied, darker stripes - shines as bright as the moon on a clear night. Her green eyes are pale, sharp, and clear, as if cut from green crystal. Her tail is longer than average, and her average sized ears are slightly more rounded than pointed. Her large paws allow her to walk across land, leaving minuscule traces of paw prints. Her paws unsheathe into wickedly sharp claws that would at least leave white marks in the stone.
Personality| She keeps to herself, preferring to hunt alone than with another cat, but never hesitates to stand up for what she believes in. She is often found narrowing her eyes and shooting a venomous remark and the poor being who has contradicted her. She does, perhaps, tend to think highly of her intelligence, often feeling like all others are mouse brains. She takes things a tad literally, and takes it as her inner duty to ruin jokes being shot in her direction.
She chooses her friends carefully and rarely, as it is difficult to gain her trust. But once you've broken past her hard, cold exterior attitude, it is almost impossible to break her loyalty.
History| Her mother being a rogue and her father being a warrior of FrostClan, Moonpelt has always felt like she didn't quite belong. When she was born, her mother was chased out of FrostClan territory, and both mother and daughter barely escaped. Barely a moon after she had opened her eyes, her mother was attacked by dogs. Although she managed to escape alive, she did not manage to do so without being mortally wounded. In her final hour, her mother took her only kit by the scruff of her neck, and brought it to the only place she knew that her kit could fit it: FrostClan.
The Clan warriors saw that the she-cat was injured and carried a kit, so they allowed her to pass to see the father. With her final breath, Moonpelt's mother made her father swear that, no matter what, he would make sure that their kit survived. Grudgingly, he agreed, and his mate passed on to StarClan.
Almost immediately, her father had Moonpelt removed to the nursery, where she was fed properly and kept warm, but was otherwise isolated. Her father died in battle a half moon after she was apprenticed. Moonpelt grew up into an apprentice, and then a warrior without true knowledge of the loving care of a mother.
Extras| N/A.
RP Example| Moonfrost's ear twitched slightly, and a low, hardly audible growl rose in her throat. Her eyes were closed, but the constant, uncomfortable movements of her tail told watchers that she was dreaming fitfully.
She heard her paws pound the ground in a constant rhythm and the sounds of her own ragged breathing. That, along with the imaginary pain that burned her muscles told her that she was running, possibly for her life.
Her eyes saw nothing but hazy shadows, although she could sense that they were wide open. She wasn't quite sure what she was running from: the sound of barking dogs, the shots of the twoleg's firestick and the angry snarls of a bigger warrior could all be heard. All of her fears were being rolled into one.
She felt herself stop. She heard the sounds stop, and they were replaced by an eerie, peaceful silence. Suddenly, the shadows were replaced too, and they took form of a silver she-cat in a sitting position, who was staring right at Moonpelt.
At first, Moonpelt thought she was looking at her own reflecting, but then she saw that the eyes of this cat were not the pale green of her own, but a soft, serene blue.
"Mother," she mewed softly, recognition dawning on her, and she took a step forward-
The yawn of awaking warriors brought Moonpelt back to reality. Wearily, she stretched herself and padded out of the den, the dream already forgotten, and her old anti-social self restored.
Codeword| Secre
Gender| She-cat
Age| 14 moons.
Clan| FrostClan
Rank| Warrior.
Description| Moonpelt is a slender, graceful looking she-cat that is rather small for her age. She is rightfully named, as her pelt - which is a light silver with tabbied, darker stripes - shines as bright as the moon on a clear night. Her green eyes are pale, sharp, and clear, as if cut from green crystal. Her tail is longer than average, and her average sized ears are slightly more rounded than pointed. Her large paws allow her to walk across land, leaving minuscule traces of paw prints. Her paws unsheathe into wickedly sharp claws that would at least leave white marks in the stone.
Personality| She keeps to herself, preferring to hunt alone than with another cat, but never hesitates to stand up for what she believes in. She is often found narrowing her eyes and shooting a venomous remark and the poor being who has contradicted her. She does, perhaps, tend to think highly of her intelligence, often feeling like all others are mouse brains. She takes things a tad literally, and takes it as her inner duty to ruin jokes being shot in her direction.
She chooses her friends carefully and rarely, as it is difficult to gain her trust. But once you've broken past her hard, cold exterior attitude, it is almost impossible to break her loyalty.
History| Her mother being a rogue and her father being a warrior of FrostClan, Moonpelt has always felt like she didn't quite belong. When she was born, her mother was chased out of FrostClan territory, and both mother and daughter barely escaped. Barely a moon after she had opened her eyes, her mother was attacked by dogs. Although she managed to escape alive, she did not manage to do so without being mortally wounded. In her final hour, her mother took her only kit by the scruff of her neck, and brought it to the only place she knew that her kit could fit it: FrostClan.
The Clan warriors saw that the she-cat was injured and carried a kit, so they allowed her to pass to see the father. With her final breath, Moonpelt's mother made her father swear that, no matter what, he would make sure that their kit survived. Grudgingly, he agreed, and his mate passed on to StarClan.
Almost immediately, her father had Moonpelt removed to the nursery, where she was fed properly and kept warm, but was otherwise isolated. Her father died in battle a half moon after she was apprenticed. Moonpelt grew up into an apprentice, and then a warrior without true knowledge of the loving care of a mother.
Extras| N/A.
RP Example| Moonfrost's ear twitched slightly, and a low, hardly audible growl rose in her throat. Her eyes were closed, but the constant, uncomfortable movements of her tail told watchers that she was dreaming fitfully.
She heard her paws pound the ground in a constant rhythm and the sounds of her own ragged breathing. That, along with the imaginary pain that burned her muscles told her that she was running, possibly for her life.
Her eyes saw nothing but hazy shadows, although she could sense that they were wide open. She wasn't quite sure what she was running from: the sound of barking dogs, the shots of the twoleg's firestick and the angry snarls of a bigger warrior could all be heard. All of her fears were being rolled into one.
She felt herself stop. She heard the sounds stop, and they were replaced by an eerie, peaceful silence. Suddenly, the shadows were replaced too, and they took form of a silver she-cat in a sitting position, who was staring right at Moonpelt.
At first, Moonpelt thought she was looking at her own reflecting, but then she saw that the eyes of this cat were not the pale green of her own, but a soft, serene blue.
"Mother," she mewed softly, recognition dawning on her, and she took a step forward-
The yawn of awaking warriors brought Moonpelt back to reality. Wearily, she stretched herself and padded out of the den, the dream already forgotten, and her old anti-social self restored.
Codeword| Secre