Post by .::contrition::. on Jan 5, 2008 21:24:11 GMT -5
Name: Fallenpaw
Age: 6 moons
Rank: Apprentice
Clan: BoneClan
Physical Description: Fallenpaw has an adorable kind of feel for him. He is a light ginger tom with a white muzzle, chest, paws, and a small triangle of white on his back. He is a mix of his fathers pelt, and his mothers pelt. His mother was a pure white cat, and his father was a dazzling orange tom. He was the only kit in his litter, and that is also why he is so tiny and scrawney. He looks half-starved, though it isn't true at all. He has light amber eyes, and could easilhy be betrayed as a kit for his angelic looks.
Personality: Fallenpaw's personality matches his discription in a sense that he isn't very territorial. He believes that BoneClan is too harsh to other Clans, but he doesn't speak for himself. Fallenpaw seems to go with the flow, and does what he's told. If Fallenpaw was a twoleg, you might call him a country-boy. He only speaks when spoken to, only listens to te voice of those above him, and will never break the responsibilities placed upon him. You could tell Fallenpaw a grave secret, and the secret would die with him in his grave. Fallenpaw is loyal, but still has his secret beliefs on what is right and wrong. Fallenpaw is also the one to be picked out for his personality. He isn't exactly strong and brave, so, he is small and caring.
History: Fallenpaw has a history of sneaking out of camp. Once, as Fallenkit, he was led to a secret place out of camp, and ever sence then, he has had a knack of trying to sneak out to see where it leads to or even to refresh his memory to see if he can find it again. It is in BoneClan camp, and most of the cats already know about Fallenpaw and his obsession. Nothing was spectacular with his low-key kin. His family has been loyal to BoneClan since any cat in BoneClan can remember.
Role Play Exmample:
"Do you see it yet?" She asked, excitement filtering through her voice.
"No," Fallenkit hissed. "I want to go back to the Nursery!" the poor ginger-and-white tom was shaking with fear, the unfamiliar voices around him becoming louder and louder.
"It's a tree!" The she-kit mewled. "I come here all the time!"
"It's not safe Chancekit!" Fallenkit yowled, the voices around him gathering to rejoice into one loud voice.
"I think someone is really following us Chancekit!" Fallenkit repeated, this time shaking even more.
"I told you Fallenkit! It's just the way the tree sounds when wind runs through it's leaves!" Chancekit scowled, swiping Fallenkit across the face with sheathed paws.
Chancekit hissed one last time, and hopped up onto the tree's roots, her claws gripping hold of the bark. Just at that moment, a loud yowl was heard, and a large figure jumped over Fallenkit's head, nearly winding him to the ground.
The voices were almost screaming now, and Fallenkit realized the sounds were coming from the creature who had jumped over him.
"Fox!" Fallenkit screeched, but it was too late, Chancekit was already split in two, the fox scraping the ground he stood on.
Suddenly, Fallenpaw awoke, feeling an icey sweat under his fur.
Other: I don't care what Fallenpaw's warrior name is, but please find him a mentor.
Age: 6 moons
Rank: Apprentice
Clan: BoneClan
Physical Description: Fallenpaw has an adorable kind of feel for him. He is a light ginger tom with a white muzzle, chest, paws, and a small triangle of white on his back. He is a mix of his fathers pelt, and his mothers pelt. His mother was a pure white cat, and his father was a dazzling orange tom. He was the only kit in his litter, and that is also why he is so tiny and scrawney. He looks half-starved, though it isn't true at all. He has light amber eyes, and could easilhy be betrayed as a kit for his angelic looks.
Personality: Fallenpaw's personality matches his discription in a sense that he isn't very territorial. He believes that BoneClan is too harsh to other Clans, but he doesn't speak for himself. Fallenpaw seems to go with the flow, and does what he's told. If Fallenpaw was a twoleg, you might call him a country-boy. He only speaks when spoken to, only listens to te voice of those above him, and will never break the responsibilities placed upon him. You could tell Fallenpaw a grave secret, and the secret would die with him in his grave. Fallenpaw is loyal, but still has his secret beliefs on what is right and wrong. Fallenpaw is also the one to be picked out for his personality. He isn't exactly strong and brave, so, he is small and caring.
History: Fallenpaw has a history of sneaking out of camp. Once, as Fallenkit, he was led to a secret place out of camp, and ever sence then, he has had a knack of trying to sneak out to see where it leads to or even to refresh his memory to see if he can find it again. It is in BoneClan camp, and most of the cats already know about Fallenpaw and his obsession. Nothing was spectacular with his low-key kin. His family has been loyal to BoneClan since any cat in BoneClan can remember.
Role Play Exmample:
"Do you see it yet?" She asked, excitement filtering through her voice.
"No," Fallenkit hissed. "I want to go back to the Nursery!" the poor ginger-and-white tom was shaking with fear, the unfamiliar voices around him becoming louder and louder.
"It's a tree!" The she-kit mewled. "I come here all the time!"
"It's not safe Chancekit!" Fallenkit yowled, the voices around him gathering to rejoice into one loud voice.
"I think someone is really following us Chancekit!" Fallenkit repeated, this time shaking even more.
"I told you Fallenkit! It's just the way the tree sounds when wind runs through it's leaves!" Chancekit scowled, swiping Fallenkit across the face with sheathed paws.
Chancekit hissed one last time, and hopped up onto the tree's roots, her claws gripping hold of the bark. Just at that moment, a loud yowl was heard, and a large figure jumped over Fallenkit's head, nearly winding him to the ground.
The voices were almost screaming now, and Fallenkit realized the sounds were coming from the creature who had jumped over him.
"Fox!" Fallenkit screeched, but it was too late, Chancekit was already split in two, the fox scraping the ground he stood on.
Suddenly, Fallenpaw awoke, feeling an icey sweat under his fur.
Other: I don't care what Fallenpaw's warrior name is, but please find him a mentor.
