Post by nightmare on Jan 22, 2009 20:31:42 GMT -5
About Your Character:
[/b]Name: Ravenfur
Rank: Warrior
Gender: Tom
Age: 20 moons
Clan: Paleclan
Beliefs: Is unsure of his belief in Starclan; he desperately wants to belief that Starclan is there, but because of what the storm did, and because of the lack of warning, his trust in them has been shaken. His home was ripped to pieces; how could he not have lost some sort of faith?
Mentor/Apprentice: None.
Kin: Brindlefur(mother) and Nightwing(father) are both deceased, and only kit out of his litter to survive.
Mate: None.
Appearance: Ravenfur has a dark black pelt, hence his name. It's thick, to keep him warm, but oily, to keep the moisture off his skin. It's also short, providing him more comfort in the heat as well.
He has bright yellow eyes that show his emotions much more than he ever says them. But, being the tom he is, Ravenfur still tries to hide them, as it's easier that way.
He has normal whiskers, and paws, and his body shape is one that is lithe and lean. Ravenfur was blessed with a lean, thin body, giving him fantastic agility and speed. This tom was built for quick moving and agility. While he's lacking in the strength department, Ravenfur is still able to hold his own in a battle. His speed helps him with that.
Personality: Ravenfur is one of those toms who is fun to be around, sarcastic, and witty, but he has tendencies to be more reserved and quiet. He's thoughtful as well, but steps back when it comes to arguments. Ravenfur is not the confrontational type. But, he won't take any sort of insult or disrespect lying down. He'll fight when he needs to, but be warned - his tongue is sharp and he's more than likely able to destroy you better with words than with his claws. But, he's more laid-back and reserved than violent and upfront. Ravenfur is a gentle tom, and considerate, and less abrasive than most toms tend to be.
Ravenfur has a tendenacy to be reserved, more laid-back, and quiet. He's not a loud tom, nor is he a tom always itching for battle. Instead, he's much more mellow and tends to be a good listener. Plus, he's easy to talk to. All in all, Ravenfur is kind tom, with streaks of cruelty when he needs to defend himself, his clan, or his honor.
History: Born Ravenkit, he was named almost instantly for the dark tint of his fur. As a young kit, he lost his mother and siblings, as his mother was lost in birthing, and the kits weren't able to make it through. Ravenkit, however, managed to wiggle his way to another nursing queen (someone want to offer this up? or i can make her!), he was able to survive and become stronger by the day.
He was as any kit should be - playful, curious, and feisty, but also with a mix of a more reserved, quiet, laid-back tom. And at six moons, he was Ravenpaw, training under Redfoot. Ravenpaw and Redfoot became close through training, as Ravenpaw had never really had a father figure.
After several moons of training, Ravenpaw was made into a warrior at the age of 12 moons, now known as Ravenfur. The name was given to further appreciate the tint of his pelt. Ravenfur accepted his position proudly, and has served well with Paleclan. But, tragedy struck the young tom.
After being a warrior for a moon, Ravenfur lost his best friend; Redfoot was killed by a badger. The tom mourned, as this really was the only loss he had truly suffered. Until the storm.
When the storm hit, Ravenfur was devastated to see his home torn, and the cats lose faith in Starclan and their medicine cats. And, creating a new home was no easy task. Ravenfur walked away from the storm with a large cut on his shoulder. Thankfully, it wasn't deep enough to cause any lasting damage, except for the inevitable scar.
Picture:
Roleplay Example: Deep in the forest, birds sat on their branches, chirping merrily. Squirrels ran about, and even voles were poking their heads out now and again. But, there was one mouse who just wasn't paying attention.
With a sudden flash, the mouse was swept off the ground, and almost instantly, dead. And the mouse was in the jaws of Ravenfur. Ravenfur gave a purr of pride at himself, before burying the mouse under some leaves. He'd come back for it later. No need to head back to camp yet; there was still more out here to be caught.
Ravenfur crouched low, opening his mouth to the scents. Tons filled his mouth - Paleclan, his prey, birds, squirrels, voles, water. They all mingled together, creating the distinct scent of the forest. Ravenfur closed his mouth. Those scents gave the distinct smell of home.
Shaking his head, Ravenfur rose to his paws and padded through the underbrush. Where to look, where to look? Suddenly, he spotted a squirrel, quietly nestled at the base of a tree. He smirked, and crouched low. Another kill for the pile. Another day in the life of Ravenfur.
[/center][/size]