Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2021 9:17:28 GMT -5
[attr="class","turnaroundheader"]CRANEKIT
RAINCLAN. 3 MOONS. FACE CLAIM. KITTEN.
[attr="class","lightmeupbg"]
[attr="class","runruntome"]
[attr="class","singtome"]
[attr="class","ififallapart"]
[attr="class","lightmeupplayedby"]
AUTHORED BY EVERT
AUTHORED BY EVERT
[attr="class","lightmeuptextinfo"]
O' Fair Maiden With Flaxen Fur,
So new to the world is she, Cranekit oft finds herself hard-pressed to perceive any evil in the actions of anyone, for her head, so wrapped with tales of gallantry and valor, is rarely accustomed to the grey thinking of most, the self-serving natures and personal wants that guide one’s paws more than the very code under which all Clans are ruled. Instead, her way is to see only the good in others, and to those who might take it upon themselves to spite her with word or action, she considers them only with forgiveness and understanding, whether deserved or otherwise. And if not that, then tears and despondency, quickly forgotten in the following day should even those who bring her harm offer her some small kindness.
With Heart of Gold,
The world, as Cranekit envisions it, is one of peace and harmony. Born during a time of unity (albeit forced), she is no stranger to the diversity of thoughts and characteristics surrounding her; and where some may develop wary suspicions, she only considers such oddities with a fondness and want to understand. For what else can one do but understand the nature of their peers? In her mind, there is nothing better than to do as such. And so, she extends such empathetic thinking to all, in her own head envisioning a time in which all the Clans can come together for an eternity and live alongside one another. For what could be better than that?
And Nature Fair,
Though she shares very little in common with her brother insofar as temperament is concerned, it is in their willfulness that their relation to one another truly shines through, for there are few as bull-headed as either, and Cranekit is hardly cowed by the disapproving comments of her betters. For once her mind has been made, she is sure to carry whatever thought accompanying it through, and should she wish something to happen, she will see to it that she played a part in bringing it into fruition, whether allowed or otherwise—to her it is of no great import so long as it is done. In this way, she has an almost enviable stubbornness and an outgoingness in the throes of her own convictions after which she is most often known, for few can throw themselves into fits with the same alacrity as she, and having done so for so long, she has found it an easy way to get her way.
And to Whom Laughter Comes Easiest of All,
If only her willfulness were paired with a mind that could think for its own—then perhaps truly the camp would never be at peace. However, it is not so. Cranekit does not consider herself a righteous intellect; it is better to follow her peers with minds more cunning than she than to find ideas of her own to stand by. And if ever she does produce something on her own, the legitimacy of it can always be harkened back to something else, for an original thought she very rarely has and is more often found piggybacking off the ideas of others than formulating ones of her own. And so she has and perhaps always will be a follower, hard tasked with thinking for herself, and while some may find discomfort in admitting such things, it is something Cranekit finds little shame in. For what is so wrong in acknowledging that which you do not know? And what is so wrong in following those who know better than you might ever know?
Of her birth, she remembers very little—only that she was borne from the only place she had ever known, into a world where the warmth did not hug her and empty space assaulted her flailing limbs.
And she was being carried, hauled by the loose flesh of her neck into empty space, where the cold nipped and bit at her fur and her belly bellowed with hunger of which she had never felt before. And she, shocked by this great and unpleasant change, gaped her tiny jaws and let forth a fitful wail for fear of the newness, for fear of the scents that taunted her nose, of the wind that gusted her tiny body, of the swaying and rocking she was forced to endure by the teeth at her scruff. But worst of all was the hunger, and she felt it gouge into her very being like talons that roused it to burbling motion, but for the milk-scent that promised to soothe it, it was but a distant memory for with each motion it drew farther from her senses and with it so, too, did the only place she had ever known.
And for a time, there was naught to do but to wail for the uncertainty of things and the emptiness of her belly as she was borne into emptiness. And when the smell of milk returned, and her belly set itself to growling again, she wailed all the more fiercely and did not stop, even as she was swathed in that bodily heat. She cried out even as she was urged towards a teat, and as it bumped against her parted lips, she did not drink, for it did not smell as it had before, did not urge her to feed despite the grumblings of her own belly. And so, she refused it, did not give suck, and wailed fitfully until fatigue drew her into silence until her body shook and shuddered with weariness, and she, at last, slept, hungry and frightened and clutching for comfort.
In time her eyes did open, and, in time, she did nurse, but of her health, it was always fickle. She never did drink with any willingness, and when her teeth had grown to sharp enough points to gnaw at flesh, she did not wish to eat it and so for a time did not. And so it was that she grew feebler so that many thought her close to dying, yet she clung on and nursed until their nursemaid was dry and rid of milk, and when it was time to chew at meat, she gnawed her piece but did not do so willingly.
And so she grew to be smaller and frailer and more prone to coughs that trembled and rumbled at her chest and left her throat thick with mucus that never quite shifted. Always, it felt, she was sickening, and so she did not wander far from her nest but remained curled in it, listening to the taciturn murmurings of their nursemaid whose warmth to them always felt like a distant and untouchable thing, waiting for Owlfrost who would bring them stories and smells of the forest on her pelt.
And so were her beginnings, and they were uneventful and miserable, but hers to keep memory of always.
a fair, amber smoke she-kit with soft green eyes and a thick, feathery coat.
An inheritor of her mother’s fair features and her father’s odd coloring, Cranekit, though young, is a fine creature to look upon. Her features, still marred by kitten plasticity, have already begun to give themselves away to the angular borders and high cheekbones of which she will possess once fully grown, while her fur, still heavy with kitten down, has already begun to don its later luster and darker complexion. Of her limbs, much in the same way as her brother, she is greatly endowed; gangly with small paws at the end of each and a gait that even now shows some signs of later grace in its present clumsiness. Of her eyes, which are a soft green, there is a kindness that compliments her gentle nature, while upon the bridge of her nose is a smattering of blue fur as if not but seconds ago she roused her head from a sooty powder.
naïve, willful, altruistic, compassionate
simple, impressionable, docile, emotional
simple, impressionable, docile, emotional
O' Fair Maiden With Flaxen Fur,
So new to the world is she, Cranekit oft finds herself hard-pressed to perceive any evil in the actions of anyone, for her head, so wrapped with tales of gallantry and valor, is rarely accustomed to the grey thinking of most, the self-serving natures and personal wants that guide one’s paws more than the very code under which all Clans are ruled. Instead, her way is to see only the good in others, and to those who might take it upon themselves to spite her with word or action, she considers them only with forgiveness and understanding, whether deserved or otherwise. And if not that, then tears and despondency, quickly forgotten in the following day should even those who bring her harm offer her some small kindness.
related traits… docile, naïve.
With Heart of Gold,
The world, as Cranekit envisions it, is one of peace and harmony. Born during a time of unity (albeit forced), she is no stranger to the diversity of thoughts and characteristics surrounding her; and where some may develop wary suspicions, she only considers such oddities with a fondness and want to understand. For what else can one do but understand the nature of their peers? In her mind, there is nothing better than to do as such. And so, she extends such empathetic thinking to all, in her own head envisioning a time in which all the Clans can come together for an eternity and live alongside one another. For what could be better than that?
related traits… altruistic, emotional, compassionate.
And Nature Fair,
Though she shares very little in common with her brother insofar as temperament is concerned, it is in their willfulness that their relation to one another truly shines through, for there are few as bull-headed as either, and Cranekit is hardly cowed by the disapproving comments of her betters. For once her mind has been made, she is sure to carry whatever thought accompanying it through, and should she wish something to happen, she will see to it that she played a part in bringing it into fruition, whether allowed or otherwise—to her it is of no great import so long as it is done. In this way, she has an almost enviable stubbornness and an outgoingness in the throes of her own convictions after which she is most often known, for few can throw themselves into fits with the same alacrity as she, and having done so for so long, she has found it an easy way to get her way.
related traits… willfull.
And to Whom Laughter Comes Easiest of All,
If only her willfulness were paired with a mind that could think for its own—then perhaps truly the camp would never be at peace. However, it is not so. Cranekit does not consider herself a righteous intellect; it is better to follow her peers with minds more cunning than she than to find ideas of her own to stand by. And if ever she does produce something on her own, the legitimacy of it can always be harkened back to something else, for an original thought she very rarely has and is more often found piggybacking off the ideas of others than formulating ones of her own. And so she has and perhaps always will be a follower, hard tasked with thinking for herself, and while some may find discomfort in admitting such things, it is something Cranekit finds little shame in. For what is so wrong in acknowledging that which you do not know? And what is so wrong in following those who know better than you might ever know?
related traits… simple, impressionable.
Of Curdled Milk and Foreign Moss
Of her birth, she remembers very little—only that she was borne from the only place she had ever known, into a world where the warmth did not hug her and empty space assaulted her flailing limbs.
And she was being carried, hauled by the loose flesh of her neck into empty space, where the cold nipped and bit at her fur and her belly bellowed with hunger of which she had never felt before. And she, shocked by this great and unpleasant change, gaped her tiny jaws and let forth a fitful wail for fear of the newness, for fear of the scents that taunted her nose, of the wind that gusted her tiny body, of the swaying and rocking she was forced to endure by the teeth at her scruff. But worst of all was the hunger, and she felt it gouge into her very being like talons that roused it to burbling motion, but for the milk-scent that promised to soothe it, it was but a distant memory for with each motion it drew farther from her senses and with it so, too, did the only place she had ever known.
And for a time, there was naught to do but to wail for the uncertainty of things and the emptiness of her belly as she was borne into emptiness. And when the smell of milk returned, and her belly set itself to growling again, she wailed all the more fiercely and did not stop, even as she was swathed in that bodily heat. She cried out even as she was urged towards a teat, and as it bumped against her parted lips, she did not drink, for it did not smell as it had before, did not urge her to feed despite the grumblings of her own belly. And so, she refused it, did not give suck, and wailed fitfully until fatigue drew her into silence until her body shook and shuddered with weariness, and she, at last, slept, hungry and frightened and clutching for comfort.
In time her eyes did open, and, in time, she did nurse, but of her health, it was always fickle. She never did drink with any willingness, and when her teeth had grown to sharp enough points to gnaw at flesh, she did not wish to eat it and so for a time did not. And so it was that she grew feebler so that many thought her close to dying, yet she clung on and nursed until their nursemaid was dry and rid of milk, and when it was time to chew at meat, she gnawed her piece but did not do so willingly.
And so she grew to be smaller and frailer and more prone to coughs that trembled and rumbled at her chest and left her throat thick with mucus that never quite shifted. Always, it felt, she was sickening, and so she did not wander far from her nest but remained curled in it, listening to the taciturn murmurings of their nursemaid whose warmth to them always felt like a distant and untouchable thing, waiting for Owlfrost who would bring them stories and smells of the forest on her pelt.
And so were her beginnings, and they were uneventful and miserable, but hers to keep memory of always.
Important Events of Kithood
- An earthquake ravishes the valley, uprooting the Clans from their homes to take flight for the mountains. In their passage to new hunting grounds, Cranekit is born alongside her brother Drakekit—the last of a dwindling family, taken by the elements and the bellows of the earth—orpahans, their own mother loss during the evacuation. To ensure their survival, their nursing needs are entrusted to a StoneClan she-cat by name of Brinefang; however, it is Owlfrost, their aunt, that raises them.
- Cranekit’s reluctance to feed and slowness to adapt lead to developmental issues at a young age. Where her brother grows into a vigorous youth, she remains feeble and thin due to a reluctance to feed and an anxiousness towards change.
- As the Clan prepares to find new grounds to settle on, Cranekit grows restless at the thought of leaving the only home she’s known. Born during tumultuous times, she clings onto her home within the Tribe and wonders why it is they cannot stay and remain together as they are, with Brinefang forever nursing her at her teat and Owlfrost always visiting once her belly was full to tell stories—why they must now become divided with differences lodged between them that will forever drive them apart.
- Present time...
[attr="class","lightsbobbicredits"]CRAFTED BY BOBBI
[newclass=".turnaroundheader"]padding:50px;background-color:black;font-family:'Oswald', sans-serif;font-size:40px;text-transform:uppercase;color:white;text-align:right;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeupbg"]position:relative;background-color:SkyBlue;width:600px;height:400px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass][newclass=".runruntome"]-webkit-transition: all 0.7s ease;transition: all 0.7s ease;[/newclass][newclass=".singtome"]-webkit-transition: all 0.7s ease;transition: all 0.7s ease;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeupbg .runruntome"]width:600px;height:400px;position:absolute;top:0;left:0;margin-top:-610px;background-color: rgba(0,0,0,0.75);[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeupbg .singtome"]position:absolute;border:4px double white;margin-left:35px;margin-top:240px;height:310px;padding:10px;width:500px;color:black;font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;text-align:justify;transition-duration: .6s; -webkit-transition-duration: .6s; -moz-transition-duration: .6s; -ms-transition-duration: .6s; -o-transition-duration: .6s;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeupbg:hover .runruntome"]margin-top:0;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeupbg:hover .singtome"]margin-top: -370px;margin-left:35px;[/newclass][newclass=".ififallapart"]width:500px;height:310px;background-color:white;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeuptextinfo"]padding:10px;width:480px;height:190px;overflow:auto;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeuptextinfo::-webkit-scrollbar"]width:4px;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeuptextinfo::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]background-color:#6f808d;[/newclass][newclass=".lightmeupplayedby"]padding:20px;text-align:center;font-size:15px;font-family:'Oswald', sans-serif;color:white;text-decoration:underline;[/newclass][newclass=".lightsbobbicredits"]width:590px;font-family:'Oswald', sans-serif;padding:5px;font-size:11px;text-align:right;[/newclass][newclass=".lightsbobbicredits a"]font-family:'Oswald', sans-serif;font-size:11px;[/newclass][googlefont="Oswald"]