Post by lizette on Feb 19, 2009 20:01:57 GMT -5
About Your Character:[/b]
Name:
Mousepaw
Rank:
Apprentice
Gender:
Tom
Age:
Six Moons
Clan:
PaleClan
Beliefs:
He utterly hates the belief in a so called "StarClan". The storm altered his way of thinking, and he realized that a "StarClan" is nothing more than a kit story. He questions himself, when he actually believed the sky would watch out for himself, much less his clan. The storm was just living proof that beyond the acres and acres of sky, no one is watching out for him.
Mentor/Apprentice:
Brindlestar
Kin:
His mother, Mistyflower, killed after kitting. Anything about his father he is rather clueless about, as Mistyflower never told the clan the father of her litter before birth. His only sibling was a tom, named Dovekit, whom he got separated from during the evacuation, and later informed he did not survive.
Mate:
None.
Appearance:
Mousepaw, one look at this little tom and you can easily tell how he got his name. With rather lean muscles, he isn't the bulky tom type. He is rather small, and may pass for a kit at some moments. Not quite predicted whether he would make a good warrior, but he has a rather nasty bite. He enjoys being small, but he is also a target for insults. He doesn't have to worry about being called "mouse-brain". What he worries about are "mouse-muscle" and "mouse-leg".
Mousepaw has rather thin hairs that cling onto his small build, rather than a sleek coat. He is a definite short-hair, and his pelt often sticks up in many unflattering directions. He has, as they say, a "bad-pelt-day", expect for the fact his hair usually stays pointed up for half-moons at a time.
His pelt, or really, sere hairs, are a deep shade of heather. He has many sienna colored fuzz along his back. His pelt is similar to the common wild mouse, indicating his name.
In regard of his eyes, he has rather "radiant" green eyes. They are a rather "murky" emerald shade, and not quite one color. If you really stare at his eyes long, and most do not, he has an auburn middle of each eye ball.
Unlike many other parts of his body, he has rather long whiskers. They are quite wan, and lacking colors. At the base of his whiskers, they are a darker shade of ochre.
In relevance to his ears, they are quite puny. He can still hear just as much as the next cat, but sometimes he feels as if he may be going deaf. His ears are covered with a dark-grey fuzz.
As maybe an irrelevant situation, Mousepaw finds himself as charming. He is not as attractive as many of the other toms throughout his camp, but he believes he will find a mate when he is ready.
Personality:
His personality is allied to the soul of a mouse. Like the little rodents, he is very skittish and will jump at any given "bump in the night". As this may be a flaw to some, he can twist it around and turn it into quite the skill. Whenever little Mousepaw is getting sneaked up on, if the foe gives the slightest movement, Mousepaw will freak out, usually bolting out of the area. This is a major damper when it comes to prey-hunter, as he returns to camp with chills before he could have slammed his paw against the prey.
He is also a rather truthful tom, whether it gets him in trouble or saves his skinny-little-butt. You see, he is a rather guilty one, and cannot tell a lie to save his life, he just can't. The guilt grows inside of him once the white-lie escapes him mouth, and haunts him until the truth is told. But, it doesn't help as he can be a total snitch, and get others (and himself) into trouble.
History:
Mousekit:
As a kit himself, he had been through a lot of hardships. Beginning with his birth, as it may be the most horrific out of all. After Mousekit entered our world, he felt whole. It seems hard to describe the feeling he felt, as only he would understand. He felt complete, like how you may feel when you finish the 1000 piece puzzle you have worked on for months. He felt that he had become a part of something, something amazing. Life. This was a rather powering moment. Until he was snatched like a small child plucking the last chocolate bar. He tried to bellow, tried to do something rather then just be carried away from this unknown stranger. This feeling was terrible, his whole accomplishment felt dead now, just a leaf dying. It took so long to build up, so easy to destroy. He couldn't do anything as he was dragged away but whine. And whine he did, for many moments, not understanding how time passed.
A half-moon later, he understood. He was being kidnapped, he was being rescued. His mother suddenly became ill, and was going crazy after kitting. Maybe this went to her head, he thought. As the strange cats around him filled in and more, he realized he wasn't going to see his mother again. She went crazy. She wanted to hurt us, hurt me.
They killed her because she went insane.
-x-
Several moons after the incident is when the storm struck. At first, when he still believed in StarClan, he thought they would save his clan. They live in the sky, could they not stop the powerful storm erupting from their homelands? He was not the bit worried about the storm hurting the clan, not the least. Until the day the storm actually hit.
He awoke with a startle, hearing rustling noises and motion. He thought it merely as cats practicing early, that's all. He stretched out of his cluttered nest, and stood toward the entrance of the nursery. Dozens of cats were speeding through the clearing, moving and dashing, looking as if they were running for their lives. Little did Mousekit know they were.
He was snatched by the an elder queen, and he quickly joined the commotion. He mewed and whined, just wanting to see his brother, Dovekit, again. Seeing the Clan he raised up in flash before his eyes in an intense blur was too much for him. He continued on whining and screeching, just looking for hope. The queen continued to speed along the camp, clutching him in her arms.
"Is this over?" He squealed, in a rather curious tone.
"Perhaps," the queen replied. Her morbid tone wasn't very soothing to his intense worrying. Thoughts of Dovekit flashed through his mind, he was his only kin they both had. They couldn't be separated. That memory of Dovekit was the last time Mousekit ever saw him.
-x-
Mousepaw:
After the storm, he received his apprenticeship. He was quite proud to earn the '-paw' of his name, he felt important to the clan now, instead of a worthless kit. He has a friendly relationship with -insertmentor'snamehere-, and finds him/her easy to be around, and Mousepaw is quite himself around his mentor. He is still the skittish cat the clan knows him of, but he is more brave when it comes to training, as he feels he must leave his childish ways and learn the warrior trade.
Picture:
Roleplay Example:
"No...", he began muttered. He twisted and turned his body, hoping for sign of relieve. Sign of hope. He woke up in a rather piercing jolt, then slowly returned to his bed of nettles. He twisted over, finally decided on leaning on his belly. He tried to sink his eyelids downward, wanting to fall into a deep slumber. Another part of him wanted to stretch out of bed, and enjoy the morning. He wasn't a morning person, but he decided to slowly stand up, and began to sulk around the apprentice den. He had his eyes staring dead at the soil, muttered random numbers when he was walking along the grass bed. Seeing as his little "maze" would never end, he began to head along to the heart of the camp. He slowly plucked a rather plump vole from the fresh-kill pile, then tried to nibble some pieces along the fat of his body, then lost his balance and fell onto the ground, mouth full of dirt and dirty vole. I spit out the soil-infested rodent in front of me, then stared at the dead soul. He slowly peered his head near the sky, then finally caught a glance of the azure sky covering the camp.
"Does prey have a StarClan?" He asked, to no one in particular. He kept his eyes fixed on the cobalt cover over him.
"Do we?" He spoke out loud, not expecting an answer.
Name:
Mousepaw
Rank:
Apprentice
Gender:
Tom
Age:
Six Moons
Clan:
PaleClan
Beliefs:
He utterly hates the belief in a so called "StarClan". The storm altered his way of thinking, and he realized that a "StarClan" is nothing more than a kit story. He questions himself, when he actually believed the sky would watch out for himself, much less his clan. The storm was just living proof that beyond the acres and acres of sky, no one is watching out for him.
Mentor/Apprentice:
Brindlestar
Kin:
His mother, Mistyflower, killed after kitting. Anything about his father he is rather clueless about, as Mistyflower never told the clan the father of her litter before birth. His only sibling was a tom, named Dovekit, whom he got separated from during the evacuation, and later informed he did not survive.
Mate:
None.
Appearance:
Mousepaw, one look at this little tom and you can easily tell how he got his name. With rather lean muscles, he isn't the bulky tom type. He is rather small, and may pass for a kit at some moments. Not quite predicted whether he would make a good warrior, but he has a rather nasty bite. He enjoys being small, but he is also a target for insults. He doesn't have to worry about being called "mouse-brain". What he worries about are "mouse-muscle" and "mouse-leg".
Mousepaw has rather thin hairs that cling onto his small build, rather than a sleek coat. He is a definite short-hair, and his pelt often sticks up in many unflattering directions. He has, as they say, a "bad-pelt-day", expect for the fact his hair usually stays pointed up for half-moons at a time.
His pelt, or really, sere hairs, are a deep shade of heather. He has many sienna colored fuzz along his back. His pelt is similar to the common wild mouse, indicating his name.
In regard of his eyes, he has rather "radiant" green eyes. They are a rather "murky" emerald shade, and not quite one color. If you really stare at his eyes long, and most do not, he has an auburn middle of each eye ball.
Unlike many other parts of his body, he has rather long whiskers. They are quite wan, and lacking colors. At the base of his whiskers, they are a darker shade of ochre.
In relevance to his ears, they are quite puny. He can still hear just as much as the next cat, but sometimes he feels as if he may be going deaf. His ears are covered with a dark-grey fuzz.
As maybe an irrelevant situation, Mousepaw finds himself as charming. He is not as attractive as many of the other toms throughout his camp, but he believes he will find a mate when he is ready.
Personality:
His personality is allied to the soul of a mouse. Like the little rodents, he is very skittish and will jump at any given "bump in the night". As this may be a flaw to some, he can twist it around and turn it into quite the skill. Whenever little Mousepaw is getting sneaked up on, if the foe gives the slightest movement, Mousepaw will freak out, usually bolting out of the area. This is a major damper when it comes to prey-hunter, as he returns to camp with chills before he could have slammed his paw against the prey.
He is also a rather truthful tom, whether it gets him in trouble or saves his skinny-little-butt. You see, he is a rather guilty one, and cannot tell a lie to save his life, he just can't. The guilt grows inside of him once the white-lie escapes him mouth, and haunts him until the truth is told. But, it doesn't help as he can be a total snitch, and get others (and himself) into trouble.
History:
Mousekit:
As a kit himself, he had been through a lot of hardships. Beginning with his birth, as it may be the most horrific out of all. After Mousekit entered our world, he felt whole. It seems hard to describe the feeling he felt, as only he would understand. He felt complete, like how you may feel when you finish the 1000 piece puzzle you have worked on for months. He felt that he had become a part of something, something amazing. Life. This was a rather powering moment. Until he was snatched like a small child plucking the last chocolate bar. He tried to bellow, tried to do something rather then just be carried away from this unknown stranger. This feeling was terrible, his whole accomplishment felt dead now, just a leaf dying. It took so long to build up, so easy to destroy. He couldn't do anything as he was dragged away but whine. And whine he did, for many moments, not understanding how time passed.
A half-moon later, he understood. He was being kidnapped, he was being rescued. His mother suddenly became ill, and was going crazy after kitting. Maybe this went to her head, he thought. As the strange cats around him filled in and more, he realized he wasn't going to see his mother again. She went crazy. She wanted to hurt us, hurt me.
They killed her because she went insane.
-x-
Several moons after the incident is when the storm struck. At first, when he still believed in StarClan, he thought they would save his clan. They live in the sky, could they not stop the powerful storm erupting from their homelands? He was not the bit worried about the storm hurting the clan, not the least. Until the day the storm actually hit.
He awoke with a startle, hearing rustling noises and motion. He thought it merely as cats practicing early, that's all. He stretched out of his cluttered nest, and stood toward the entrance of the nursery. Dozens of cats were speeding through the clearing, moving and dashing, looking as if they were running for their lives. Little did Mousekit know they were.
He was snatched by the an elder queen, and he quickly joined the commotion. He mewed and whined, just wanting to see his brother, Dovekit, again. Seeing the Clan he raised up in flash before his eyes in an intense blur was too much for him. He continued on whining and screeching, just looking for hope. The queen continued to speed along the camp, clutching him in her arms.
"Is this over?" He squealed, in a rather curious tone.
"Perhaps," the queen replied. Her morbid tone wasn't very soothing to his intense worrying. Thoughts of Dovekit flashed through his mind, he was his only kin they both had. They couldn't be separated. That memory of Dovekit was the last time Mousekit ever saw him.
-x-
Mousepaw:
After the storm, he received his apprenticeship. He was quite proud to earn the '-paw' of his name, he felt important to the clan now, instead of a worthless kit. He has a friendly relationship with -insertmentor'snamehere-, and finds him/her easy to be around, and Mousepaw is quite himself around his mentor. He is still the skittish cat the clan knows him of, but he is more brave when it comes to training, as he feels he must leave his childish ways and learn the warrior trade.
Picture:
Roleplay Example:
"No...", he began muttered. He twisted and turned his body, hoping for sign of relieve. Sign of hope. He woke up in a rather piercing jolt, then slowly returned to his bed of nettles. He twisted over, finally decided on leaning on his belly. He tried to sink his eyelids downward, wanting to fall into a deep slumber. Another part of him wanted to stretch out of bed, and enjoy the morning. He wasn't a morning person, but he decided to slowly stand up, and began to sulk around the apprentice den. He had his eyes staring dead at the soil, muttered random numbers when he was walking along the grass bed. Seeing as his little "maze" would never end, he began to head along to the heart of the camp. He slowly plucked a rather plump vole from the fresh-kill pile, then tried to nibble some pieces along the fat of his body, then lost his balance and fell onto the ground, mouth full of dirt and dirty vole. I spit out the soil-infested rodent in front of me, then stared at the dead soul. He slowly peered his head near the sky, then finally caught a glance of the azure sky covering the camp.
"Does prey have a StarClan?" He asked, to no one in particular. He kept his eyes fixed on the cobalt cover over him.
"Do we?" He spoke out loud, not expecting an answer.