Sleetstorm

[Clove]

Name: Sleetstorm
Age: 28 moons
Rank: warrior
Clan: BoneClan
Physical Description:

Sleetstorm has a handsome grey-brown pelt with mackerel tabby markings, very dark at the spine, lighter on his underbelly. His eyes are a clear, vibrant shade of blue, while his paws are socked in white and his ears and tail are tipped with black.

He is fairly large, and he prides himself in being very muscular. His fur is slightly longer than what would be considered short, but he isn't exactly long-haired either. His tail fluffs out at the tip in a very fox-like way, as do his ears.

The bottom of his round muzzle is white, while the top is light brown, and the fur around his eyes is white as well. The rest of his face is mostly grey, with a bit of brown on his cheeks and around his ears.

Personality:

The simplest way of describing Sleetstorm would be to say he is vain -- but this is an understatement. In many ways, he is in love with himself, or at least his own body. He can spend hours staring at his reflection in puddles, and would probably do so if he got the chance. His greatest pride is his own beauty, and he makes no secret of it.

At the same time, however, he loves flirting. Despite his Clanmates' constant taunting, he is, in fact, very straight and because he can't stare at himself all the time, he stares at she-cats instead. If he wasn't quite as good-looking as he is, he'd perhaps be labeled creepy. As it is, the non-sensible she-cats he stares at are often flattered.

When he isn't staring at himself or females, he is actually rather kind. Where he perhaps lacks intelligence, he makes up for in loyalty and good intentions. In terms of battle, he can be excruciatingly naive, but because of the muscles that he worked so hard for, he is an excellent fighter.

History:

Sleetstorm was still in the nursery when he discovered he was considered beautiful. He was born as a very healthy, already strong kit, and he became even more so as he aged. It became very clear, however, that he wasn't one for great cunning or wit; his mentor had to teach him to rely on strength alone in battle, since his intelligence seemed to be a lost cause.

Either Sleetstorm didn't notice his lack of intelligence or he simply didn't care; if other cats made fun of his vanity, he ignored him or laughed along with them (but it's possible he failed to understand their jokes). This teasing stopped when the other cats realized she-cats preferred him to them.

Other than that, Sleetstorm grew up with a fairly normal lifestyle. Though far from the best warrior in the Clan, his Clanmates did learn how to make him useful.

Role Play Example:

from Incandescence

Chloe Fints stared at the message scrawled across the dark bricks of Greenford High. She'd arrived early today, before anyone else, and had therefore seen the message before anyone else.

The words appeared to be made of some kind of mud, but against the brick, it looked like blood. Shivering, Chloe looked around her for about the seventh time. Deserted. Why was no one here yet? Not for the first time that day, Chloe wished she'd brought a watch or a cellphone or anything that might show the time.
She went back to observing. She couldn't even see any fingerprints, though she was certain that there must be some. She wished could shift, but what would she do if someone showed up? Ha ha, she told herself bitterly. Wishful thinking.
The silence was unnerving. Nothing moved, not even the scramble of a squirrel climbing up a tree or the rustle of the wind the leaves.

When she finally decided she could hardly investigate the message any more than she already had, she sat down, alone with her thoughts. And her thoughts rapidly grew more and more panicked -- What if they think it's me who wrote the message? What if they take me to prison? What if whoever wrote the message comes back and kidnaps me? What if--

She froze. Something had moved.

Other:

[Brackentail]

Accepted.