Death or Dawn?

[Dancer]

• Name: Last Hope Of Dawn
  
  
• Age: 32 moons
  
  
• Gender: Tom
  
  
• Clan: Loner
  
  
• Rank: Loner
  
  
• Appearance: He is huge. Almost as big as a fair-sized dog. He is black, with gold, slender and wavy tabby markings. He has a sort of ruff around his neck, where the fur is long and sticks out more, that just makes him look even more imposing. His eyes are huge and dark brown, though they appear black. His long, midnight black strongly curved claws are manacing to say the least, though his fangs are of a more normal proportion. No scars mar the smooth, silk-like feel of his pelt, for he has never thought a battle. Despite this, he is strong, stronger than an average cat because of his advantage in size.
  
  
  
• Personality: To call him an evil marauder would be unfair to say the least. He is as gentle as butterfly, and has no love for suffering. He is too confused to be kind or loving, though it is his natural instinct. His heart says too be kind, his experienced says be cruel. He loves straightforward orders and will take them off anyone, they mean he doesn't have to decide. He wants someone to confide in, but is too shy too make friends. He is clumsy and apologetic, and believes - somewhat correctly - that he is a total dunce. He is terrified of offending others, for what reason he is not entirely sure, yet is always wandering in clan territories. He usually runs before he can carried out his plan, but he wants the stability of a clan cat. He doesn't have anything to believe in, and though he's heard of it, doesn't believe in starclan - they've never answered his prayers. He is easily upset and offended and reminds you more of a kit than a warrior. When he is happy he gets bouncy and even more childlike, looking to others for a parent figure, though he is old enough to be a parent himself. If someone gave him responsibility he would grow up, but there's not much chance of someone giving responsibility to him.
  
  
• History:
  He was born to a disciplined family where everybody obeyed his father. Even as kits his litter never did anything without being told to and followed all the rules perfectly. The problem was, this meant that inside they never learnt to think, or make decisions for themselves. He was not different. Totally identical to his two brothers both in mind and body he was raised in identical circumstances. The whole society - more than eighty cats - were almost exactly the same. He trained, was good, hunted and did what everybody else did. Then disaster struck in the form of his father - quite an old tom anyway - dying. Nobody had been trained to be upset, but some were. Something he noticed as the order broke down was that the cruel ones did well, the kind ones died remarkably fast. He left. He was too soft. He didn't like deciding to leave, it was against his nature to decide anything, but he wanted to survive. He didn't know where to go and ran blindly. He slowly learnt to hunt by going through the motions he had before, but never had to fight, he just bluffed. He found out about the clans with joy and has wanted to join one ever since.
  
  
• RP Example:
  Not needed. (2nd charrie)
  

[Brambleclaw]

~Accepted!~