Post by untilthis.echo on Jan 23, 2007 0:49:11 GMT -5
Name: Mossstorm
Gender: She-cat
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Shadowclan
Description: Mossstorm has semi-long fur the shade of rich chocolate. In the gray mornings, her fur is a beautiful tint of autumn brown but at night her coat is almost inky black. She's an agile she-cat with a long stripe down her back. The dorsal stripe is a shade of sunset gold that starts from the top of her head and snakes down to her tail, covering around the tip of her tail. Also, her ears are tipped black and she has dark brown eyes, flecked with green. Mossstorm's size is certainly not big, being on the much smaller side. This often gives people the impression that she's weak, even though she's not totally defenseless. About the size of an apprentice, she's one of the smaller Shadowclan cats.
Picture: farm1.static.flickr.com/9/68662408_8f5f77fc68.jpg?v=0
Personality: Mossstorm is overall a gentle she-cat. Born with a large timidness and caution, she often is viewed as a coward, her small size adding to the effect. Most of the time she'd prefer to use words of reason rather than teeth and claws. Mossstorm's timidness often ends her in very flustered positions, her shy nature making her scatterbrained and jumpy. Her caution makes her wary and mistrusting. It takes her a long time and frequent meetings for her to actually see someone as her friend. Her wariness sometimes makes her come off as stern and even reproachful at times, but her gentle voice outweighs that. Naturally melancholy, she likes to spend time alone, though what she really wants in the world is for a friend. A true friend who won't abandon her.
History: Mossstorm is a Shadowclan raised kit, though secrecy lies in her past. She remembers nothing of her biological parents, knowing that she was only raised as a foster-kit to Shadowpaw's mothers Darkflower. She's Shadowpaw's older foster-sister. Her life began in mystery when an old tom called supposedly found her all alone and took her back to Shadowclan. The Clan was hostile to accept her, but the old tom's gentle plea finally allowed them to admit her entrance. Though she was a naive kitten, she could not shake off the suspicion following her every step of the way. Uncannily, she remembers faint traces of rivers and woods, different yet so close.
Mossstorm always had doubts about herself because of Shadowclan's suspicion and hostility toward her supposed loner/rogue heritage. She liked to be alone often just to escape the whispers of the Clans, though she did hate it as well. Friendless, she ached with need for a true friend since the old tom who had taken her in had passed away. Darkflower loved her as her own kit, but Mosskit was far too timid to make friends with the other kits. When Shadowpaw was born, she kept a close eye on him and played with him as often as he wanted, enduring his clumsy antics for comfort of her lonely heart.
One day, Mosspaw had been out on a patrol when a group of banded rogues entered the territory and got into a fight with the Shadowclan patrol. During the fight, Mosspaw was wounded and almost left blind from a slash across her eyes. She spent days in the medicine cat den healing while her Clan whispered both pride and anger to her. Pride for her fighting the rogues, anger for her being injured. Her real shining moment though, came when a storm had taken Shadowclan by surprise and the river nearby had flooded. One of the young apprentices had almost drowned with the flooded river and the rising storm but Mosspaw had rushed after the apprentice to save him, much to the surprised cheer of her Clan. In a moment of bravery, she had saved the young cat and had earned her name after the storm.
IC: There was water everywhere, pulling at her, pushing at her.It rushed over her head and shoved her down, forcing her to battle against the rushing current as it swarmed down her throat and into her lungs, choking her. Thrashing her head up again, a choked caterwaul escaped her lips as she coughed up water. Her paws flailed uselessly as thunder screeched overhead and roared in anger, the gray sky sending a horde of harsh rain. Her dark brown eyes searched vainly for the young cat who'd gone under, still coughing. She wailed.
SOMEBODY HELP ME!
Mossstorm awoke, bathed in sweat and fear, panting. It had just been a memory. A memory of impulsive bravery and cold fear.
Password: Secrets
Gender: She-cat
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Shadowclan
Description: Mossstorm has semi-long fur the shade of rich chocolate. In the gray mornings, her fur is a beautiful tint of autumn brown but at night her coat is almost inky black. She's an agile she-cat with a long stripe down her back. The dorsal stripe is a shade of sunset gold that starts from the top of her head and snakes down to her tail, covering around the tip of her tail. Also, her ears are tipped black and she has dark brown eyes, flecked with green. Mossstorm's size is certainly not big, being on the much smaller side. This often gives people the impression that she's weak, even though she's not totally defenseless. About the size of an apprentice, she's one of the smaller Shadowclan cats.
Picture: farm1.static.flickr.com/9/68662408_8f5f77fc68.jpg?v=0
Personality: Mossstorm is overall a gentle she-cat. Born with a large timidness and caution, she often is viewed as a coward, her small size adding to the effect. Most of the time she'd prefer to use words of reason rather than teeth and claws. Mossstorm's timidness often ends her in very flustered positions, her shy nature making her scatterbrained and jumpy. Her caution makes her wary and mistrusting. It takes her a long time and frequent meetings for her to actually see someone as her friend. Her wariness sometimes makes her come off as stern and even reproachful at times, but her gentle voice outweighs that. Naturally melancholy, she likes to spend time alone, though what she really wants in the world is for a friend. A true friend who won't abandon her.
History: Mossstorm is a Shadowclan raised kit, though secrecy lies in her past. She remembers nothing of her biological parents, knowing that she was only raised as a foster-kit to Shadowpaw's mothers Darkflower. She's Shadowpaw's older foster-sister. Her life began in mystery when an old tom called supposedly found her all alone and took her back to Shadowclan. The Clan was hostile to accept her, but the old tom's gentle plea finally allowed them to admit her entrance. Though she was a naive kitten, she could not shake off the suspicion following her every step of the way. Uncannily, she remembers faint traces of rivers and woods, different yet so close.
Mossstorm always had doubts about herself because of Shadowclan's suspicion and hostility toward her supposed loner/rogue heritage. She liked to be alone often just to escape the whispers of the Clans, though she did hate it as well. Friendless, she ached with need for a true friend since the old tom who had taken her in had passed away. Darkflower loved her as her own kit, but Mosskit was far too timid to make friends with the other kits. When Shadowpaw was born, she kept a close eye on him and played with him as often as he wanted, enduring his clumsy antics for comfort of her lonely heart.
One day, Mosspaw had been out on a patrol when a group of banded rogues entered the territory and got into a fight with the Shadowclan patrol. During the fight, Mosspaw was wounded and almost left blind from a slash across her eyes. She spent days in the medicine cat den healing while her Clan whispered both pride and anger to her. Pride for her fighting the rogues, anger for her being injured. Her real shining moment though, came when a storm had taken Shadowclan by surprise and the river nearby had flooded. One of the young apprentices had almost drowned with the flooded river and the rising storm but Mosspaw had rushed after the apprentice to save him, much to the surprised cheer of her Clan. In a moment of bravery, she had saved the young cat and had earned her name after the storm.
IC: There was water everywhere, pulling at her, pushing at her.It rushed over her head and shoved her down, forcing her to battle against the rushing current as it swarmed down her throat and into her lungs, choking her. Thrashing her head up again, a choked caterwaul escaped her lips as she coughed up water. Her paws flailed uselessly as thunder screeched overhead and roared in anger, the gray sky sending a horde of harsh rain. Her dark brown eyes searched vainly for the young cat who'd gone under, still coughing. She wailed.
SOMEBODY HELP ME!
Mossstorm awoke, bathed in sweat and fear, panting. It had just been a memory. A memory of impulsive bravery and cold fear.
Password: Secrets
