Whitewhisker//Tom//IceClan

[mellowclaw]

Name: Whitewhisker
Age: 16 moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: IceClan
Rank: Medicine cat
Eye Color: A deep confident blue, almost haughty, but more affectionet
Description:

He is a lean white furred from head to paw with the exception of gray ears presenting a medium length and usually are standing upright. His average length coat covers his pelt in warmth, and the youth of his body is unmistakable, however his eyes have a natural warmth to them as if asking "would you?" The wind periodically changes the style of his fur as he does not bother with it unless their is a need for the look of importance. As Whitewisker pads forward he has a habit of leaning out making the more haughty look of his repertoire apparent.

These features are all enhanced by a large fresh scar on the toms left flank.

Personality:

Whitewhisker rarely snaps at others unless it is to banter for pure amusement. This is mostly done with his brother around although he does display it more often when he truly knows he has a friend in them. If he has a problem with another cat he will usually keep it to himself unless their is a necessity the forces his claw.

He enjoys his position and believes thoroughly in StarClans faith for him, this brings Whitewhisker faith in himself. He is not proud of letting Brood get the best of the because that also means the traitorous LightningClan cat bested him. He is quick to absorb information, entertaining himself when given time by planning one step ahead. He feels great passion for the others in his clan, and believes he can turn away enemies by protecting his clan with his position. Body for the clan is his motto, but no longer body over mind.


Brood made the last change in his motto and it will stay as such to the best of Whitewhiskers ability.

History:

Whitewhisker was a lucky cat, being brought up in relative peace by a loving family. Thats not to say he was out of trouble, how could he be with an older brother 3 moons ahead of himself. They would push the boundaries every now and then, being scolded then loved. The pair were much like any other kits their age. For the first few moons of his life he was true blue follower, letting his brother take the lead. Soon though he became aware of the comings and goings in the camp. Whitewhisker began to get tired of his scoldings, he desired appreciation. He looked at the warriors of his clan eagerly awaiting to be apprenticed. Whitekit became Whitepaw and was quickly taught the meaning of warrior. Riftwinter.

Still admired by Whitewhisker saw something in the young apprentice and knew he was mean for something else, something he believed was more important, more necessary than a sharp claw, or even a set of them. This tom boasted great strength but resented his placement in the clan and was determined to see his apprentice on another path. He broke the war from him, the need for fight. Dawn till dusk he pulverized this young cat till he heaved and his muscles ached. However he never mentioned once what his plan was until one night Whitewhisker lost it. Spitting and howling and howling at his mentor Whitepaw yowled "Why do you drive me so hard, thats it." He charged and bit into Rifttwinters silver pelt. The bulky warrior flinched and bit pack the pain as blood seeped from the fresh wound.

Startled Whitewhisker backed off pulling his teeth out of his clanmates flesh. He was horrified, he hadn't meant to injure him, at least now that the moment was over. Guilt swelled and he began to feel fear cloud him. "Why didn't you move, why.." Words failed him as his deep blue eyes quaked slightly following the trail of blood to where it had begun pooling. "Calm down Whitepaw." Riftwinter soothed as best he could through his deep voice. "It was only my flank I'll be fine."

"Yeah but I didn't mean.." He wa quickly cut off, "I'm glad you did." For a moment Whitepaw recoiled wondering about the possibility of a truck. He tilted his head in a puzzled expression the fear melting away to genuine curiosity. "What?" He was dumbfounded. "Think about what just went through your head, that wasn't happiness on your face. Thats what warriors have to do day in and day out. They have to extend their claws to prove them self even if it means destroying another cat in the process. Could you do it Whitepaw?" It was a funny thing, the most inevitable of all things, how they seem to escape us in the pursuit of our happiness. Whitepaw had never approached the subject, and to his amazement he found Riftwinter to be right. He never enjoyed landing clawed blows on the enemy or clan alike.

The longer he spent under his mentor the more he realized his path diverged in another direction from that of his sibling. He wanted status, but not with violence. He didn't like how warriors weren't given respect until they were warriors, they were an instrument but he wanted to be more. Aside from that he genuinely cared for other cats. His decision though was not finalized until he watched Riftwinter die on border patrol defending him with his body while Whitepaw was told to run. Part of Whitepaw believed Riftwinter wanted to escape from his one track fate, he had wanted to die. It was never the massive toms choice, he was chosen when warriors were thin and the medicine cat Snowfall was young.

Upon being apprenticed at 9 moons he found the calling of a Medicine cat quite natural to him. He could be their for others in his clan, and he could also do something Riftwinter could never had succeeded in. He could use his status to protect his clan, no cat would harm another that was so close to StarClan. He resolved to keep his friends close, and enemies closer. In four short moons he was anointed a full cat of StarClan. Turbulent times lay ahead forewarned by his ancestors, his fierce loyalty kept him on edge and expecting. Soon Snowfall was stricken by blackcough dieing a noble death. He walked from camp in his old age refusing to let the demons in him purge the others in his clan. No cat ever found his body, but now, Whitewhisker was utterly alone.

He thought this was the turmoil prophesied and in his nearsighted view he let Brood slip through his clans defenses. He played on the emotions of others, and although wary, Whitewhisker let events play out. He first head of Sliverlight's death and mourned, but then something happened to wind the Medicine cats tensions to a boiling. Upon checking the corpse of a second victim, Silentstar now forever silent spoke to him from StarClan revealing the plotting and scheming of the former LigjtningClan warrior, only hinting that Broodstar was a danger. In an attempt to get answers Whitewhisker sought to confront him, believing foolishly that the tom dare not attack a medicine cat. He followed the massive toms scent trail, somewhat hesitant as he approached an IceClan border. Always turning back at the end, having realized the tom might not return.

He had warned Falconspirit of his worries but continued to commit to his routine until he succeeded in finding the rouge. Under a new moon Whitwhisker found what he sought. Following a new fresh trail the snow white tom lead himself out of the safety of his borders. Brood attacked and maimed Whitewhisker, leaving him for dead although he was not to die on a rumbling thunderpath adjacent to a twoleg den.


There he took up refuge and licked his wounds mending them as best he could before setting off with a new mark. One of disgust.
He has never forgiven him, nor forgotten that day, and intends to not only aid Falconspirit in her leadership of IceClan, but to always be a step ahead. StarClan and his life training to be a warrior have taught him not all can be swayed, some are more dangerous than others. He intends to make good on his vows, as the scar is a reminder of the brutality of others, the brutality he and his fellow clanmates shall put an end to.

RP Example:

Dewpelt stalked his prey, the taste already on his lips. He was very eager, but knew enough not to go diving after the vole. He found that it was in his blood to chase things in the underbrush aside from fishing. Obviously a ThunderClan trait. He was proud of his odd heritage. Being not only half clan, but also half of a faraway group of cats calling themselves a Phratry. He had been told all about his lineage, it swelled him with pride, even if others did not see it so. A pur rumbled up in his throat. (Nice one) He thought almost laughing at himself as the prey began to scurry away. Dewpelt leaped for the tiny creature, barley snatching its tail. He then finished it quickly before he could make another absent minded mistake. "What a case I am." he mumbled then laughed lightly aloud. He found good things to look onto at every turn. He gazed over his shoulder at the sun. It was getting low, and he quickly gathered he should be heading back. He pondered on the kill count. That makes 5 he told himself. It wasn't to shabby considering he had taken a few breaks because of the heat. The grass next to the river began tickleing his paws slightly. It felt good, it was wet from the spray of the river, and the scent of the prey he had caught filled his nose. He breathed out calmly and moved to collect his prizes, stacking them into a pile before stuffing them into his mouth and trying to grin. It made him look like something a kit would laugh at. A lopsided face and a goofy stretched mouth, which he was totally unaware of. His paws padded with a tiny plopping as they hit the dryer earth with water beneath them. As the sun set gleaming over his clear fur, with the camp in sight, he had no reason not to be happy.

(Heres the link to this other bio because it's on another for a diff char of mine site, if you need proof its mine just email me on that sites email addressed listed under the User Quickclaw)

warriorcatsarpg.proboards49.com/i....ead=9708&page=1

[chloe;;]

Wow that was very good xD He is accepted! Make sure to post in the Clan Allegiances please