Duststrike - Fernclan Warrior

[Fern ♥]

Name: Duststrike
Age: 25 Moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: Fernclan
Rank: Warrior

Description: Duststrike is a large-build warrior, with broad shoulders and powerful muscles that ripple under his pelt. His pelt his a dark tabby brown, with a splash of white on his muzzle and chest. The tom's ears are a normal size, with stripes running along them as well. His tail is long and fluffy, though the rest of his pelt is basically short-haired. Duststrike's face is broad, and his golden eyes are about an average size. He isnt particularly tall, though the strength in his muscles make up for any height he lacks.

Personality: Duststrike is an arrogant tom, often thinking himself high and mighty- one of the greatest warriors in the clan. This over-confidence of his also give him the impulse to try and impress the she-cats of the clan as often as possible. In general, the brute often shows off his skills, especially towards the younger cats of the clan as well. Though Duststrike is cocky, he still performs his duties for the clan just as often, if not more than the rest of the warriors.

History: Duststrike grew up with a mother who's personality paralled his own. She would often tell her young kit how great he was, better than the other kits, and how he needed to prove to everyone in the clan just what he could do. This turned out to greatly influnce who he is today, even though his mother was killed in a fox attack seasons ago.

RP Example: The dark-pelted tabby strode into the camp entrance, his head held high and his shoulders cocked straight. As he passed a few clanmates, he dipped his head in a short greeting. Duststrike continued on his path, golden eyes searching unobjectively around the dens and camp clearing. Seeing as there were no others around which he could tell about his great solo patrol he'd just feated, the large warrior shruged and changed his course towards the fresh-kill pile.

Quickly scooping up a starling in his jaws, Duststrike headed towards a particular patch of grass outside the warrior's den. The brute sat back on his haunches and began to pluck away the yellow feathers. Yet at the same time, the warrior continued to keep an eye on the rest of camp, looking out for some company that might stumble by. After a few famished gulps, the bird was gone. Duststrike, now full, stretched out his legs and tail, before laying out again. A few beams of sunlight had broken through the forest barrier, including a particular patch which had found itself shining down on the arrogant tom. "Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about." Purring in content, the tom closed his golden eyes, and let the sun quietly warm his pelt.

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[~{.:Leaf:.}~]

What an amusing cat, Accepted!