Post by .:-Aikoa-:. on Jun 14, 2008 10:20:03 GMT -5
Name: Tempeststorm
Age: 16 Moons
Gender: She-cat
Clan: TrueClan
Rank: Warrior
Appearence:
Personality: She is loyal and determined, but something about her doesn't seem right. She is beautiful and talented, but in her eyes there is sorrow. No cat can explain it, because no cat can explain her, really, but it is there. Tempeststorm says little of her cloudy past, and she often makes strange sounds at night, the only showing of the dreams that haunt her every night. Dreams of horror and pain, that only Tempeststorm would ever know...
History: She was born into the Clan, but, unknown to the rest of ThunderClan, she was born a half-breed. Her father was a WindClan tom, who loved her like she was his very life, even if she grew up in a different Clan. When her mother died, she spent more and more time hunting around Fourtrees, looking for her father. When she learned that he had been killed by a badger, despair had gripped her to the heart of her being. But the reason for her strange behavior was the brother she had never known. Her father had told a cat who was with him when he died, to tell Tempeststorm of the WindClan tom that was her brother. They met each other by the light of the moon, and Tempeststorm felt a bond, stronger than life, with him. But when StarClan took him as well, her life fell apart, and she decided that she would never waste her life, that she would live it for her Clan alone.
RP example: Tempeststorm padded along the ShadowClan border, her pale emerald eyes focused on the scape ahead. Her grave features did not welcome any to intrude on her one-cat Patrol, and her puffled out tail warned any she was furious. Though why, no cat could guess. Padding toawrd the Thunderpath, Tempeststorm pondered the events leading to her crankiness. In reality, all that had made her angry was a cat acusing her of being some sort of spy. That was all Tempeststorm needed to blow her sockets. She parted her jaws slightly, drinking in the scent of prey. Detecting a mouse nearby, Tempeststorm lowered herself into a crouch, swiping her tongue over her lips in apprehension of a meal.
Age: 16 Moons
Gender: She-cat
Clan: TrueClan
Rank: Warrior
Appearence:
Personality: She is loyal and determined, but something about her doesn't seem right. She is beautiful and talented, but in her eyes there is sorrow. No cat can explain it, because no cat can explain her, really, but it is there. Tempeststorm says little of her cloudy past, and she often makes strange sounds at night, the only showing of the dreams that haunt her every night. Dreams of horror and pain, that only Tempeststorm would ever know...
History: She was born into the Clan, but, unknown to the rest of ThunderClan, she was born a half-breed. Her father was a WindClan tom, who loved her like she was his very life, even if she grew up in a different Clan. When her mother died, she spent more and more time hunting around Fourtrees, looking for her father. When she learned that he had been killed by a badger, despair had gripped her to the heart of her being. But the reason for her strange behavior was the brother she had never known. Her father had told a cat who was with him when he died, to tell Tempeststorm of the WindClan tom that was her brother. They met each other by the light of the moon, and Tempeststorm felt a bond, stronger than life, with him. But when StarClan took him as well, her life fell apart, and she decided that she would never waste her life, that she would live it for her Clan alone.
RP example: Tempeststorm padded along the ShadowClan border, her pale emerald eyes focused on the scape ahead. Her grave features did not welcome any to intrude on her one-cat Patrol, and her puffled out tail warned any she was furious. Though why, no cat could guess. Padding toawrd the Thunderpath, Tempeststorm pondered the events leading to her crankiness. In reality, all that had made her angry was a cat acusing her of being some sort of spy. That was all Tempeststorm needed to blow her sockets. She parted her jaws slightly, drinking in the scent of prey. Detecting a mouse nearby, Tempeststorm lowered herself into a crouch, swiping her tongue over her lips in apprehension of a meal.
