Post by Stormstar on Oct 19, 2008 15:17:15 GMT -5
Name: Stormstar
Rank: Leader
Clan: ShadowClan
Gender: Tom
Age: 26 moons
Picture:
Appearance: Stormstar is a medium-size gray-furred tom, with one icy blue eye and one warm amber eye. He has short fur, and is slender but swift. His muscles are strong, which enables great agility, which he uses to his advantage.
Personality: In general, Stormstar's kind of a goof. He likes to have a good time, and he is appreciative of life's simple pleasures, like hunting with or eating with friends. However, when danger threatens, he'll drop this mode and become business-like. He is also very loyal, but at many times, mischievous.
History: He was born to parents of the same Clan as he was, but nothing special. His sister, Mudstorm, passed away while on warrior duties, and his other sister died at birth, before she could be named.
RP Example: (From another site)
Night had fallen upon the forest, and the sky was dimly lit with a claw moon, and glittering stars. The leaves of the plants rustled as the warm greenleaf wind blew. The crickets chirped, the toads croaked, and mice and voles scurried around, endlessly pursuing food in the dark. All was peaceful.
Suddenly, the bracken rustled to reveal a silver cat, a tom with glittering green eyes. He was full-grown, but he had the look of a young cat, possibly a kit: curious, eager, and credible. He tiptoed through the forest, but he mistakenly stepped on the undergrowth, making loud sounds that echoed eerily through the forest. Appearently he had only come out for a little hunt, for the tom dropped into a hunter's crouch and stealthily caught a vole, regardless of his earlier mistake which could have scared the prey away.
Quickly burying it, the tom, who was called Silverclaw by his peers, hurried on into the forest. He stopped just before a stream and opened his mouth for any prey-scents. His eyes widened. Rogues! he thought, and ducked into the reeds that lined the banks of the stream. Creeping stealthily, he peered through the stalks and glimpsed a dark silvery tom with a scar that pernamently shut his eye. He also had another scar slicing his ear, and one on his hind leg. With him was another cat which he couldn't make out. They had similar scent, which confirmed they were in some sort of group together, like the Clans, and they were mewing about something. Trying not to make a sound, Silverclaw inched closer, ears swiveled forward, desperately trying to hear the cats' conversation.
"...kill them! For they..."
"...we'll get them for you..."
"...yes, suffocate... and drown..."
"Yes. It will be so."
"Oh, and also, about Nikita..."
"I see. Well, I bid you farewell--"
"No. Wait."
The scarred tom pricked his ears and turned his one eye at Silverclaw's direction. He murmured something to the other cat, who dipped his head in respect and plunged into the bushes. "Hello, there!" he meowed mockingly. "Yes, I supposed you're a Clan cat." He purred, and turned to look at him. "Now I wonder... you probably heard me, didn't you?" It seemed more like a statement. The scarred tom purred once more, and added, "Well I suppose you did. You know what that means right?"
A dark silver blur... a flash of red... a blue-black eye gazing into his own green... those were the last things Silverclaw saw. His last breath reeked of blood, and foul rogue scent.
The scarred tom's mouth was slightly open, fangs dripping with blood. He stood with his legs apart shoulder-width, a menacing stance. But his eye was glinting with malevolent joy. The dark silver cat bent down to the stream, took a couple gulps, and then vanished into the darkness.
Rank: Leader
Clan: ShadowClan
Gender: Tom
Age: 26 moons
Picture:
Appearance: Stormstar is a medium-size gray-furred tom, with one icy blue eye and one warm amber eye. He has short fur, and is slender but swift. His muscles are strong, which enables great agility, which he uses to his advantage.
Personality: In general, Stormstar's kind of a goof. He likes to have a good time, and he is appreciative of life's simple pleasures, like hunting with or eating with friends. However, when danger threatens, he'll drop this mode and become business-like. He is also very loyal, but at many times, mischievous.
History: He was born to parents of the same Clan as he was, but nothing special. His sister, Mudstorm, passed away while on warrior duties, and his other sister died at birth, before she could be named.
RP Example: (From another site)
Night had fallen upon the forest, and the sky was dimly lit with a claw moon, and glittering stars. The leaves of the plants rustled as the warm greenleaf wind blew. The crickets chirped, the toads croaked, and mice and voles scurried around, endlessly pursuing food in the dark. All was peaceful.
Suddenly, the bracken rustled to reveal a silver cat, a tom with glittering green eyes. He was full-grown, but he had the look of a young cat, possibly a kit: curious, eager, and credible. He tiptoed through the forest, but he mistakenly stepped on the undergrowth, making loud sounds that echoed eerily through the forest. Appearently he had only come out for a little hunt, for the tom dropped into a hunter's crouch and stealthily caught a vole, regardless of his earlier mistake which could have scared the prey away.
Quickly burying it, the tom, who was called Silverclaw by his peers, hurried on into the forest. He stopped just before a stream and opened his mouth for any prey-scents. His eyes widened. Rogues! he thought, and ducked into the reeds that lined the banks of the stream. Creeping stealthily, he peered through the stalks and glimpsed a dark silvery tom with a scar that pernamently shut his eye. He also had another scar slicing his ear, and one on his hind leg. With him was another cat which he couldn't make out. They had similar scent, which confirmed they were in some sort of group together, like the Clans, and they were mewing about something. Trying not to make a sound, Silverclaw inched closer, ears swiveled forward, desperately trying to hear the cats' conversation.
"...kill them! For they..."
"...we'll get them for you..."
"...yes, suffocate... and drown..."
"Yes. It will be so."
"Oh, and also, about Nikita..."
"I see. Well, I bid you farewell--"
"No. Wait."
The scarred tom pricked his ears and turned his one eye at Silverclaw's direction. He murmured something to the other cat, who dipped his head in respect and plunged into the bushes. "Hello, there!" he meowed mockingly. "Yes, I supposed you're a Clan cat." He purred, and turned to look at him. "Now I wonder... you probably heard me, didn't you?" It seemed more like a statement. The scarred tom purred once more, and added, "Well I suppose you did. You know what that means right?"
A dark silver blur... a flash of red... a blue-black eye gazing into his own green... those were the last things Silverclaw saw. His last breath reeked of blood, and foul rogue scent.
The scarred tom's mouth was slightly open, fangs dripping with blood. He stood with his legs apart shoulder-width, a menacing stance. But his eye was glinting with malevolent joy. The dark silver cat bent down to the stream, took a couple gulps, and then vanished into the darkness.
