Post by Tison ('tis Falcon) on Apr 19, 2009 13:10:40 GMT -5
Name: Falconspirit
Age: 30 moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: IceClan
Rank: Deputy
Eye Color: Light green.
Description:
Age: 30 moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: IceClan
Rank: Deputy
Eye Color: Light green.
Description:
Falconspirit's fur is a light, dirt brown, the color of the bird he was named after. He has a long, graceful build, enabling him to run swiftly and still have the muscle to jump quite high. His eyes are a deep forest green, speckled with flecks of gold. In contrast to his dry features, his eyes leap out at you, and are sure to be the first thing you notice about this striking cat. One can normally tell whatever the lanky cat is thinking simply by looking into his eyes - his emotions shine through from within. His large paws he has taught to be silent and graceful, and he no longer trips over them. His tail is also long, easily covering his muzzle when he sleeps. Even during new leaf, he always stays lean, and looks a tad thinner than he should. When anyone mentions it to him he just shrugs it off, and says, "I've always been that way."Personality:
Also, in my signature there is a graphic I made for him.
Falconspirit's personality has four core elements:History:
Compassionate
He is a kind warrior and mentor - even when he doesn't have an apprentice. Though he tends to give out negative feedback, he makes sure to give them something positive to look into. He is kind and gentle, and never gets his temper get away with him... or at least with Clanmates...
Loyal
Like all IceClan cats, (I hope) Falconspirit is fiercely loyal to his Clan and home. He would die for his leader or for the sake of his Clan, as would any other self-respecting Clanmate. He is proud of who he is and what his Clan stands for.
Fear...ing?
The cat hates - with a passion - small spaces. Twolegs would call him... claustrophobic. (Whoo! Big word! xD) When it rains, he just gets wet. He doesn't care. He can survive if it's just him in said small space, but if other cats are around, he starts hyperventilating.
Wanting
Some might read this wrong, but what Falconspirit really wants, more than anything else, is a mate. His compassionate and kind nature seems like it would make it easy for him to get a mate, but he's too shy. Every time he tries to pad after a she-cat, he loses his nerve. He thinks things along the lines of, I'm not good enough for her, or She would do better with another tom. What he really needs is a kind she-cat who can get past his faults to the gentle tom within.
As a kit, his paws were way too big. He had no other siblings, but his parents were sympathetic. The other kits teased him, and said he would never become a warrior. He never got angry over these comments, but simply took them, getting more miserable as the days went by. He told himself that he would do anything to become a warrior - no matter how long it took him.RP Example:
When he became an apprentice, he was overjoyed that he got the opportunity. His denmates had convinced him that the leader was going to throw him out, or he would have to be a medicine cat apprentice. Not that there was anything wrong with being the medicine cat apprentice, he concluded, but it just didn't fit to his way of life. His mentor, Runningbrook, made sure that he grew into his paws, so to say. He grew a lot, actually, and became graceful, instead of plodding. His mentor turned him into an apprentice to be proud of, and so he was.
His warrior life was marked by... nothing. Nothing interesting seemed to happen to him, and 10 moons went by quite quickly for the tom. However, 6 moons ago terror dominated IceClan. There were three badgers that were too close to IceClan's cats, and the kits were in more danger with every passing day. Broodstar called for young but experience warriors to help fight them off, and Falconspirit was one of them. However, things went bad. The badgers must have heard them coming, because they had not even reached the den before they were attacked. Though it took a heavy toll on the patrol of five warriors, they were successful. Falconspirit had led the patrol, and because of that, his leg was damaged badly when he protected one of the other warriors, preventing the warrior from joining the ranks of StarClan. For that reason, he was awarded the deputy position only a moon after he had recovered.
From a different site with the same cat xP
The full moon shone upon a moor, illuminating the deserted area. The moor was deserted, at least, to the untrained eye. A lithe, brown shape emerged from out of nowhere, padding silently on the short grass. His long tail whisking back and forth, he stalked his prey. Falconspirit lowered into a hunting crouch, padding slowly up to the rabbit. His - for lack of a fitting word - humongous paws did not slap the ground, for they were placed with the precision of an aged hunter. There was no sound as they gently closed the space between the paw and the ground. Dusty ears pricked, the warrior advanced on the unsuspecting victim. His sharp, intelligent green eyes bored into the pelt of said rabbit, waiting for the tiniest flicker of movement that may enable the prey to see its predator. With one last sniff into the gentle breeze, the warrior struck.
It was not the way of AirClan cats to hunt as other Clans did, but on a good day, the warriors did not have to tire themselves out with mindless running. Nor would a warrior wish to. These days, one never knew when a battle would happen, and the leader expected them to be ready when the time did come. And so, all warriors were taught to be conservative of their own strength at that of others for most of the time, except on hunting patrols. When a lone warrior was roaming the land, well, who knew what could happen. AirClan cats didn’t expect any other Clans to be trustworthy - why start now? They knew, unlike other Clans, that even though the Clans may be peaceful, there was no telling what could happen. Better to be ready for something that won’t happen than to be unprepared for disaster.
Sharp claws sank into fur and flesh as Falconspirit met his prey, driving the poor rabbit into the dirt and grass. Through the full moon's light, the moor - and the victim - were as easily seen as though it was noon. He let up with a satisfied grunt! and watched as the life was leeched out of the rabbit. His stomach began to growl hungrily, and after a brief hesitation, picked up the warm bundle with his teeth, and trotted back to camp. He knew he could have eaten it, but it felt better to take it home anyway, and that way he could just take a nap right after he finished eating. The stars twinkled overhead as the lone warrior padded through the night.