Post by ..::Mist::.. on Dec 27, 2007 10:22:39 GMT -5
My name is:
Fiend[claw]
I have walked the hard earth for:
48 moons
I am and shall remain:
a tom
I have been given the rank of:
warrior
I am honored to be a loyal and fierce part of:
RainClan[he is currently a rogue but will join RainClan eventually]
A line of me:
Scarred, honey colored with white chest and blaze on face and gold eyes.
I act in this way:
Fiendclaw is a serious cat, he doesn't get distracted easily and when he does he gets rather irritated. He his a perfectionist and is rather strict about how things should be done. He rarely plays, thinking it a foolish waste of time, and would rather be working on something instead. He hates to sit still, when he was young the queens would say that he 'had ants nipping his paws', for he never could sit still for very long. He is a hard worker and works with almost a fury for he wants to get things done just so and they never seem to get as perfect as he wants them to be.
Since he is a perfectionist he of course has worked to be as close to perfect as possible in everything, especially fighting. One wouldn't think he was strong when they looked at him but where he lacks in strength he makes up for in smarts and agility. You most certainly wouldn't want to be on his wrong side.
Fiendclaw is adventurous and likes to have a good challenge set before him, though he can get frustrated easily if it takes too long. He will stick to the project of course, indeed it is almost impossible for him to leave something unfinished, but he will get angry at the project and have a rather bad temper about it until it has met his high standards. He has a pretty quick temper and isn't very patient with slow learners and if something doesn't work he will sometimes lash out at those around him. He of course knows that this isn't perfect behavior and often gets angry with himself for not meeting his own standards. He can hold a grudge for a good while, but it takes a pretty annoying cat to get him to hold one, for he us usually fairly quick to apologize about things and make peace again, make things perfect again.
I am seen in this way on the outside:
Fiendclaw is a light creamy tan, kind of a honey color. It covers his entire pelt, not breaking for a hairs breadth in one place. The only place that is not white is his belly and chest, which is just as pure as the tan part of his pelt. His fur is not exactly long, but neither is it short, it is medium lengthed and is a little longer on his belly and chest. He has some tufts on his ears that are the same tan as the rest of his tan pelt.
He is a little on the smaller side, though what there is of him is pure muscle. He is light boned, relying more on his quick paws and mind. His paws are smallish, though they are equipped with razor sharp claws which he doesn't hesitate to use.
On to his face, he bears a white blaze from a little above between his eyes to his pink nose. His eyes are a golden swirl and are rather striking. His whiskers and claws are both white.
You may think that that is all that there is to tell about, but it isn't. There are many scars that I haven't spoken of, tellers of his harsh past. One of his ears has a jagged scratch in its side and he has scars over almost all of his body. He is also almost blind in one eye, though he can see blurry dark shadows out of it. He has adjusted well to it and can see so well that one can hardly tell that he is blind in it.
I have this story to tell:
Fiendclaw used to be a rogue, strangely enough. He has no wish to remember his past though, for it is very painful to him, in mind and in body. His father was not a part of the rogue band that Fiend was born in, having met his mother before she had joined the band. Strike tried to get Vivian, Fiend's father, to join the band but he refused because he wasn't one of those rogues that liked to kill, and so Strike killed him.
When he was born no one around him cared for him much, though he and his brother, Blood, were rather close to each other. His mother only stayed with them until they were weaned. They were left on their own, receiving cuffs and scratches from any cat that felt like hurting something. The only good thing that they were given was food, though it was in small quantities it kept them alive. Most of the time they spent in hiding, trying their best to avoid the other cats, but of course they failed. Once Fiend tried to just run away, but his hunger drove him back and he was disciplined harshly.
At the age of four moons he was considered old enough to be trained and we was brought into a group of 'trainers'. Now trainers were the older cats, great battle-scarred brutes, who trained the younger ones well in rogues' eyes. The first few days were filled with just talking, the new learners being expected to remember every word and at the end of the day they were quizzed. If they didn't get enough right they would go without food.
The next days made the first few days seem like bliss, for now came the physical training. They were fought by the teachers, who growled and hissed instruction to them sparingly, leaving most learning for the cats to learn themselves. Half of the young cats died in this training, some tried to get away and though most failed in those tries, one succeeded. That one gave Fiend hope, and so he started planning his escape.
One day he will decide that is time to try to get away from the bloothirsty rogues. He will make it away and after some trouble, find the camp of RainClan.
Those I have known and I do know yet, and also my family:
Dread~teacher/enemy
Vivan~father[dead-killed by Strike]
Strike~mother
Blood~brother
Fiend[claw]
I have walked the hard earth for:
48 moons
I am and shall remain:
a tom
I have been given the rank of:
warrior
I am honored to be a loyal and fierce part of:
RainClan[he is currently a rogue but will join RainClan eventually]
A line of me:
Scarred, honey colored with white chest and blaze on face and gold eyes.
I act in this way:
Fiendclaw is a serious cat, he doesn't get distracted easily and when he does he gets rather irritated. He his a perfectionist and is rather strict about how things should be done. He rarely plays, thinking it a foolish waste of time, and would rather be working on something instead. He hates to sit still, when he was young the queens would say that he 'had ants nipping his paws', for he never could sit still for very long. He is a hard worker and works with almost a fury for he wants to get things done just so and they never seem to get as perfect as he wants them to be.
Since he is a perfectionist he of course has worked to be as close to perfect as possible in everything, especially fighting. One wouldn't think he was strong when they looked at him but where he lacks in strength he makes up for in smarts and agility. You most certainly wouldn't want to be on his wrong side.
Fiendclaw is adventurous and likes to have a good challenge set before him, though he can get frustrated easily if it takes too long. He will stick to the project of course, indeed it is almost impossible for him to leave something unfinished, but he will get angry at the project and have a rather bad temper about it until it has met his high standards. He has a pretty quick temper and isn't very patient with slow learners and if something doesn't work he will sometimes lash out at those around him. He of course knows that this isn't perfect behavior and often gets angry with himself for not meeting his own standards. He can hold a grudge for a good while, but it takes a pretty annoying cat to get him to hold one, for he us usually fairly quick to apologize about things and make peace again, make things perfect again.
I am seen in this way on the outside:
Fiendclaw is a light creamy tan, kind of a honey color. It covers his entire pelt, not breaking for a hairs breadth in one place. The only place that is not white is his belly and chest, which is just as pure as the tan part of his pelt. His fur is not exactly long, but neither is it short, it is medium lengthed and is a little longer on his belly and chest. He has some tufts on his ears that are the same tan as the rest of his tan pelt.
He is a little on the smaller side, though what there is of him is pure muscle. He is light boned, relying more on his quick paws and mind. His paws are smallish, though they are equipped with razor sharp claws which he doesn't hesitate to use.
On to his face, he bears a white blaze from a little above between his eyes to his pink nose. His eyes are a golden swirl and are rather striking. His whiskers and claws are both white.
You may think that that is all that there is to tell about, but it isn't. There are many scars that I haven't spoken of, tellers of his harsh past. One of his ears has a jagged scratch in its side and he has scars over almost all of his body. He is also almost blind in one eye, though he can see blurry dark shadows out of it. He has adjusted well to it and can see so well that one can hardly tell that he is blind in it.
I have this story to tell:
Fiendclaw used to be a rogue, strangely enough. He has no wish to remember his past though, for it is very painful to him, in mind and in body. His father was not a part of the rogue band that Fiend was born in, having met his mother before she had joined the band. Strike tried to get Vivian, Fiend's father, to join the band but he refused because he wasn't one of those rogues that liked to kill, and so Strike killed him.
When he was born no one around him cared for him much, though he and his brother, Blood, were rather close to each other. His mother only stayed with them until they were weaned. They were left on their own, receiving cuffs and scratches from any cat that felt like hurting something. The only good thing that they were given was food, though it was in small quantities it kept them alive. Most of the time they spent in hiding, trying their best to avoid the other cats, but of course they failed. Once Fiend tried to just run away, but his hunger drove him back and he was disciplined harshly.
At the age of four moons he was considered old enough to be trained and we was brought into a group of 'trainers'. Now trainers were the older cats, great battle-scarred brutes, who trained the younger ones well in rogues' eyes. The first few days were filled with just talking, the new learners being expected to remember every word and at the end of the day they were quizzed. If they didn't get enough right they would go without food.
The next days made the first few days seem like bliss, for now came the physical training. They were fought by the teachers, who growled and hissed instruction to them sparingly, leaving most learning for the cats to learn themselves. Half of the young cats died in this training, some tried to get away and though most failed in those tries, one succeeded. That one gave Fiend hope, and so he started planning his escape.
One day he will decide that is time to try to get away from the bloothirsty rogues. He will make it away and after some trouble, find the camp of RainClan.
Those I have known and I do know yet, and also my family:
Dread~teacher/enemy
Vivan~father[dead-killed by Strike]
Strike~mother
Blood~brother
