Post by Greyy. on Jan 2, 2008 0:05:44 GMT -5
Name: Featheredsong
Age: 22 Moons
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Starclan -- Formerly Hailclan
Physical Description: Featheredsong is a light gray tabby she-cat with feather-fine fur that is soft and luxiorous, about medium length. Her flocculent fur is delicate and downy, like thick kit fur. Her color is that of a gray pastel crayon, with neat darker lines drifting from her nose to her neck, to her shoulders with even strokes, like somebody had painted them on her with a rich gray colour. Her fur is well-kept, she has a neat disorder, and likes everything to be clean and clear whereever she goes. Her luscious fur is tinged with silver at the base of the tail area, spiraling upwards to the tip in long and even stripes. Her tail is thick, but not long furred. Like the other cats of Starclan, her fur glimmers with the reflection of stars, making her appear quite ghostly in appearance. Her nose is a light, rosey shade, always moistened as she is a particularly healthy cat, like every deceased warrior. Featheredsong's eyes are pale green with tiny blue flecks around the pupil.
Personality: Featheredsong is a she-cat who enjoys clean things and innocent cats. She believes everyone to be her friend, and decides everything for herself. She believes that the clan is an individual in itself, not that she is an individual within the clan. Featheredsong thinks that the clan is her number one priority, and that nothing should come before her friends and family. Featheredsong often leaves at Sharing Tongues time to go hunting for the clan, so that they may have more food to wake up to the next sunrise. Her heart is as big as the forest, and she wants nothing more than to make things right between everybody.
History: Featheredsong was a brave, noble she-cat with many friends and a virtuous way of settling scuffles between her clanmates. Often times at gatherings, Featheredsong would be right up front, acknowledging each and every leader's opnion and comparing it to her own. Her life as a kit was fairly normal, and her father and mother lived to watch her become a full warrior of Hailclan. Featheredsong's father died in a border patrol, following her warrior's vigil. Her mother died of heartbreak at 60 moons old. Featheredsong continued her life until she had become 22 moons, in a fire's aftermath for breathing in too much smoke. Living in the time of Flourishingstar, Featheredsong had a barely noticeable romance with the bashful leader.
Roleplay Example: Featheredsong looked upwards, towards the dawning sky that seemed covered in ash which fluttered heavenly towards the ground, covering her and her clanmates in soot as she sneezed lightly, brushing the cinders from her maw with a creamy gray forepaw. She padded back over to Flourishingstar, her whiskers quivering as she forced a smile weakly across her maw. "Flourishingstar, is there anything you need me to do? Er..Will you hunt with me later if I go out on patrol? Uhmm..Do you need anything?" she asked, tail twitching.
"We'll start your training after we bury your denmates, you really should so more respect for them. And we're just about to leave, Sorreltail." But one voice...something was strange about it. It wavered with emotion, embarrassment. Flourishingstar turned his head to face a young Warrior, his amber eyes glancing into hers. "Yes, maybe after Hotpaw's training and the burial. Other then that, why don't you go get some rest, you look a bit tired, Featheredsong..." There was something awkward about the silence they shared, no cat talked. Flourishingstar's face grew hot, but he did all he could to keep it under control.
Hope fluttered in Featheredsong's chest as she nodded vigorously. "Of course, your apprentice. And the burial. Rest? Oh I'm hardly- Oh well, I suppose you're right." she muttered quickly, half to herself. "Well, then," she sighed heavily, bright hues glimmering, "I guess I'll see you soon then." she meowed cheerily before stepping away from his, ploomy gray tail wavering in the air as her whiskers quivering in merriment. "I'll see you soon." she repeated to herself, padding over to the warrior's den, her tail swaying as she found a comfortable-looking nest. Within a few heartbeats the she-cat curled up and dozed off, into a dream of fantasy
Age: 22 Moons
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Starclan -- Formerly Hailclan
Physical Description: Featheredsong is a light gray tabby she-cat with feather-fine fur that is soft and luxiorous, about medium length. Her flocculent fur is delicate and downy, like thick kit fur. Her color is that of a gray pastel crayon, with neat darker lines drifting from her nose to her neck, to her shoulders with even strokes, like somebody had painted them on her with a rich gray colour. Her fur is well-kept, she has a neat disorder, and likes everything to be clean and clear whereever she goes. Her luscious fur is tinged with silver at the base of the tail area, spiraling upwards to the tip in long and even stripes. Her tail is thick, but not long furred. Like the other cats of Starclan, her fur glimmers with the reflection of stars, making her appear quite ghostly in appearance. Her nose is a light, rosey shade, always moistened as she is a particularly healthy cat, like every deceased warrior. Featheredsong's eyes are pale green with tiny blue flecks around the pupil.
Personality: Featheredsong is a she-cat who enjoys clean things and innocent cats. She believes everyone to be her friend, and decides everything for herself. She believes that the clan is an individual in itself, not that she is an individual within the clan. Featheredsong thinks that the clan is her number one priority, and that nothing should come before her friends and family. Featheredsong often leaves at Sharing Tongues time to go hunting for the clan, so that they may have more food to wake up to the next sunrise. Her heart is as big as the forest, and she wants nothing more than to make things right between everybody.
History: Featheredsong was a brave, noble she-cat with many friends and a virtuous way of settling scuffles between her clanmates. Often times at gatherings, Featheredsong would be right up front, acknowledging each and every leader's opnion and comparing it to her own. Her life as a kit was fairly normal, and her father and mother lived to watch her become a full warrior of Hailclan. Featheredsong's father died in a border patrol, following her warrior's vigil. Her mother died of heartbreak at 60 moons old. Featheredsong continued her life until she had become 22 moons, in a fire's aftermath for breathing in too much smoke. Living in the time of Flourishingstar, Featheredsong had a barely noticeable romance with the bashful leader.
Roleplay Example: Featheredsong looked upwards, towards the dawning sky that seemed covered in ash which fluttered heavenly towards the ground, covering her and her clanmates in soot as she sneezed lightly, brushing the cinders from her maw with a creamy gray forepaw. She padded back over to Flourishingstar, her whiskers quivering as she forced a smile weakly across her maw. "Flourishingstar, is there anything you need me to do? Er..Will you hunt with me later if I go out on patrol? Uhmm..Do you need anything?" she asked, tail twitching.
"We'll start your training after we bury your denmates, you really should so more respect for them. And we're just about to leave, Sorreltail." But one voice...something was strange about it. It wavered with emotion, embarrassment. Flourishingstar turned his head to face a young Warrior, his amber eyes glancing into hers. "Yes, maybe after Hotpaw's training and the burial. Other then that, why don't you go get some rest, you look a bit tired, Featheredsong..." There was something awkward about the silence they shared, no cat talked. Flourishingstar's face grew hot, but he did all he could to keep it under control.
Hope fluttered in Featheredsong's chest as she nodded vigorously. "Of course, your apprentice. And the burial. Rest? Oh I'm hardly- Oh well, I suppose you're right." she muttered quickly, half to herself. "Well, then," she sighed heavily, bright hues glimmering, "I guess I'll see you soon then." she meowed cheerily before stepping away from his, ploomy gray tail wavering in the air as her whiskers quivering in merriment. "I'll see you soon." she repeated to herself, padding over to the warrior's den, her tail swaying as she found a comfortable-looking nest. Within a few heartbeats the she-cat curled up and dozed off, into a dream of fantasy
