Post by Snap on Jan 2, 2013 16:09:07 GMT -5
Name: Rowankit, Rowanpaw, Rowanstrike, Rowanstar
Age: 48 moons
Gender: tom
Clan: MistClan
Rank: Leader
Picture:
Description: This tom has a brown pelt that is tinted with a bit of red. Dark markings swirl over his pelt and across his face. The tan color that covers his underbelly and chin also colors his toes. Perhaps his most striking feature is his eyes. They are an icy mix of blue and green and hold his emotions. His whiskers are long as well, which add to his tactile senses. Broad shoulders and long legs aid this tom in battle.
Personality: Rowanstar is the quiet type. They always say those are the ones you have to look out for, right? Well, it's correct in this case. His quiet exterior hides his inner brilliance. He keeps his opinions to himself usually, because he finds that it tends to add fuel to the fire. He rarely raises his voice, for he feels it is best to stay calm at all times. Panic and anger cloud the brain and blur the line between what is right and wrong. He much prefers to listen and observe, but he is not mute. Rowanstar does speak when he feels like it. He's just not the type to go around gatherings and socialize. Some cats mistake him for being rude, and that comes back to bite him in the rump sometimes. Under all that hard surface, he knows how to have fun and enjoys laughing and joking around. He pours his heart out into what he does and would not think twice about doing anything for his clan. He takes his leadership seriously.
History: Rowankit was born with two sisters, Fawnkit and Kestrelkit. The three were connected at the hip by the time they had reached six moons. Rowanpaw had proved to be the most quiet of the three, while Fawnkit and Kestrelpaw made up for it. Fawnpaw was paired with an older mentor that she grew incredibly close to. Kestrelpaw and Rowanpaw were paired with younger warriors. At first, the tom was jealous of Fawnpaw. He wanted a wise old mentor to pass down his wisdom to him. After a while, though, he learned to love his mentor, a fiery spirit named Emberthorn.
Soon enough, the trio of siblings reached twelve moons. Rowanpaw became Rowanstrike, for his quick thinking. Fawnpaw became Fawnsong, for her boisterous attitude, and Kestrelpaw became Kestrelwing, for her gentle grace. If at all possible, Rowanstrike thought the three of them had become even closer over the six moons of apprenticeship.
Later on, Emberthorn became Emberstar. Rowanstrike was humbly named deputy of MistClan. At his naming ceremony, his legs had shaken and his heart had pounded so loudly in his ears that he could barely make out what the leader was saying. He managed to stop his voice from shaking when he spewed out his "I do". The voices of his clan rose up from around him, chanting his name (he could hear Fawnsong and Kestrelwing over the crowd, and that had made him smile). The time came where he traveled to the Clans' sacred place to take up the position of MistClan leader. As he closed his eyes and exhaled, he let that symbolize his worries. Emberstar believed he was the right choice. That meant StarClan was happy with it to.
When he woke, he had a new confidence about him. He is now Rowanstar. And that thought pulled a smile across his maw. He was ready.
RP Example: Large paw thumped across the dewy fields as the sun started its descent over the horizon. His breath came out in quick huffs, condensing in the crisp, cool leaf-bare air. Sometimes it swirled around his maw and other times it rose up to fog his vision. Ironic, he thought. His home was usually foggy, this cloud of vaporized breath shouldn't bother him. Rowanstar pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He was out here to clear his mind, and it wasn't working well so far. The leader always had a hard time just letting go, just relaxing. Sucking in another big breath, he picked up speed.
The tom exhaled. Then inhaled once more, settling on a nice rhythm. His bright gaze focused on the land; the gentle roll of the hills, the slight fog that still covered the dewy grass. It wasn't very thick or tall, it just covered the air about half a tail-length above the land. He had always loved how the fog did that, how it made the grass look like a sea of gray and green. The colors of that, mixed with the bright explosion of oranges and pinks and purples coming from the sunset. Yes, he mused to himself, this was relaxing.
Age: 48 moons
Gender: tom
Clan: MistClan
Rank: Leader
Picture:
Description: This tom has a brown pelt that is tinted with a bit of red. Dark markings swirl over his pelt and across his face. The tan color that covers his underbelly and chin also colors his toes. Perhaps his most striking feature is his eyes. They are an icy mix of blue and green and hold his emotions. His whiskers are long as well, which add to his tactile senses. Broad shoulders and long legs aid this tom in battle.
Personality: Rowanstar is the quiet type. They always say those are the ones you have to look out for, right? Well, it's correct in this case. His quiet exterior hides his inner brilliance. He keeps his opinions to himself usually, because he finds that it tends to add fuel to the fire. He rarely raises his voice, for he feels it is best to stay calm at all times. Panic and anger cloud the brain and blur the line between what is right and wrong. He much prefers to listen and observe, but he is not mute. Rowanstar does speak when he feels like it. He's just not the type to go around gatherings and socialize. Some cats mistake him for being rude, and that comes back to bite him in the rump sometimes. Under all that hard surface, he knows how to have fun and enjoys laughing and joking around. He pours his heart out into what he does and would not think twice about doing anything for his clan. He takes his leadership seriously.
History: Rowankit was born with two sisters, Fawnkit and Kestrelkit. The three were connected at the hip by the time they had reached six moons. Rowanpaw had proved to be the most quiet of the three, while Fawnkit and Kestrelpaw made up for it. Fawnpaw was paired with an older mentor that she grew incredibly close to. Kestrelpaw and Rowanpaw were paired with younger warriors. At first, the tom was jealous of Fawnpaw. He wanted a wise old mentor to pass down his wisdom to him. After a while, though, he learned to love his mentor, a fiery spirit named Emberthorn.
Soon enough, the trio of siblings reached twelve moons. Rowanpaw became Rowanstrike, for his quick thinking. Fawnpaw became Fawnsong, for her boisterous attitude, and Kestrelpaw became Kestrelwing, for her gentle grace. If at all possible, Rowanstrike thought the three of them had become even closer over the six moons of apprenticeship.
Later on, Emberthorn became Emberstar. Rowanstrike was humbly named deputy of MistClan. At his naming ceremony, his legs had shaken and his heart had pounded so loudly in his ears that he could barely make out what the leader was saying. He managed to stop his voice from shaking when he spewed out his "I do". The voices of his clan rose up from around him, chanting his name (he could hear Fawnsong and Kestrelwing over the crowd, and that had made him smile). The time came where he traveled to the Clans' sacred place to take up the position of MistClan leader. As he closed his eyes and exhaled, he let that symbolize his worries. Emberstar believed he was the right choice. That meant StarClan was happy with it to.
When he woke, he had a new confidence about him. He is now Rowanstar. And that thought pulled a smile across his maw. He was ready.
RP Example: Large paw thumped across the dewy fields as the sun started its descent over the horizon. His breath came out in quick huffs, condensing in the crisp, cool leaf-bare air. Sometimes it swirled around his maw and other times it rose up to fog his vision. Ironic, he thought. His home was usually foggy, this cloud of vaporized breath shouldn't bother him. Rowanstar pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He was out here to clear his mind, and it wasn't working well so far. The leader always had a hard time just letting go, just relaxing. Sucking in another big breath, he picked up speed.
The tom exhaled. Then inhaled once more, settling on a nice rhythm. His bright gaze focused on the land; the gentle roll of the hills, the slight fog that still covered the dewy grass. It wasn't very thick or tall, it just covered the air about half a tail-length above the land. He had always loved how the fog did that, how it made the grass look like a sea of gray and green. The colors of that, mixed with the bright explosion of oranges and pinks and purples coming from the sunset. Yes, he mused to himself, this was relaxing.
