Post by {{Dezperation}} on Sept 23, 2009 19:52:36 GMT -5
Name: Rowanpelt
Moons: Eleven
Gender: Tom
Clan: StormClan
Rank: Warrior
Short-Description:
Other:
Moons: Eleven
Gender: Tom
Clan: StormClan
Rank: Warrior
Short-Description:
Rowanpelt is a tom of strength and courage.Picture:
sobi.org/photos/Cat/Amsterdam/xa9u1562.jpgDescription:
This tom's pelt is a dusky brown, marked with black black tabby stripes. His physical build is strong, his body desinged for defence. His shoulders are wide and his chest broad, his haunches muscled. Rowanpelt's chest is a white color, leading to a white chin. His long legs are also striped with ebony, like his pelt. His eyes are colored a buttery gold, the fur framing them lighter than his pelt.Personality:
Rowanpelt is a tom with a good heart and a level head. He is carefu with his temper, and it rarely get out of his contol. He has a soft spot for kits, and would appreciate a litter of his own. Before then, though, he seeks an apprentice. It is exciting to him to imagine being able to show the ways of the warrior to a young cat.History:
This tom is known for his courtesy to she-cats and honor of elderly warriors. He respects the warrior code, and hopes for a high ranking position. He knows a healthy ambition, and will reach for the stars if that means claiming what he wants. But, he will not resort to anything against the warrior code.
This tom was born a loner. Both her parents were also loner bred. They were Feather, a comely young she-cat, and Rock, a burly tom. They had met a crisp day of leaf-bare, and three moons later their first, and only, litter was born. Rowanpelt, back then called Rowan, was born first, unexpected. It was an overcast new-leaf morning. On that morning his siblings were also born, Briar and Robin. They were both she-cats, both smaller than he, and both very feminine looking. Briar, the older of the two, looked much like he. Only the darker shade of her orbs and the white of her paws.Role Playing Example:
One sleep after their birth, the kits' mother fell sick with greencough, weakened by the pregnancy. She died one sunny day, a day ment to be glorious, but to the humble family of loners, it was not even close.
One leaf-fall day, the siblings lost their other parent. They were confronted by a band of wragged loners, unaware that they had tresspassed on the loner's land. Rowanpelt fought alongside his father, who had forced his sister's to flee. When his father fell, the tom was driven away. One sleep later, he was reunited with Briar and Robin. He was the bearer of the terrible news.
It took the threesome two moons to find the clans. When they did, they were each eight moons old. They sought shelter with the first clan who offered help, StormClan. His sisters are now known as Briarheart and Robinwing.
The rest is history.
Weak sunlight leaked through the brambles that created the roof of the warrior's den. A ray fell on Rowanpelt's face. His pink nose wrinkled as he forced his eyelids together. A second later, they blinked apart. His pupils retracted and grew, adjusting to the dim lighting. It was still early morning. Soft voices exchanged terse words in the clearing. Dawn patrol! They had not left yet. Now full of life and energy, Rowanpelt carfully lifted himself and picked his way around sleeping clanmates. The tom stood in the threshhold of the den for a moment, blinking. His whiskers twitched in a pleased manner as he surveyed the camp; calm and orderly. Only a few cats milled about. A group had gathered at the entrance. After a quick streach to awaken his limbs and muscles, Rowanpelt padded over to join them, purring in greeting.Codeword: Rapids
"May I tag along?" He offered. An elderly warrior appraised him with approval, "Sure."
Another warrior piped up, "We were waiting for Briarheart, but most likely she is still snoring in the darkness of the den."
Swiftpaw mrrowed in amusement.
Other:
May I apply for the role of deputy; or possibly leader?