[Deleted]

Name: Cricketpaw (Cricketnose)
Age: 07 moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: LightningClan
Rank: Apprentice

Picture:

Description:

If LightningClanners are supposed to be the smallest, quickest cats in the valley, Cricketpaw certainly missed the memo. He neither inherited his mother's lithe form nor his father's quickness; instead, he retains a bumbling gait and a clumsy, large figure. Much to the chagrin of his mother, he often has trouble keeping his long-haired pelt well-kept, and it often makes him look even larger as a result. In any other clan, perhaps he would seem almost nondescript. In LightningClan, however, he tends to stand out. 

His fur and nose are both flat black, and his eyes are a bright amber.

Description Summary:

Bulky long-haired black tom with bright amber eyes

Personality:

Explaining Cricketpaw's personality in a few words is easy: he's a big, loveable doofus with a heart of gold. He gets passionate about the cats he cares about, and he jumps to his defenses just as easily. He's not the strongest or the smartest, but his purr is one of the sweetest things you could hear, and his hiss is so pathetic it could break your heart. 

After the death of his mother and sister, Cricketpaw became fiercely loving and defensive of all his clanmates. Cats who had hissed at him to get off their tails became - in his eyes - his best friends. He doesn't take anyone's existence for granted, and he knows that anyone could get sick at any moment and die. That enough allows him to treasure others and live in the moment.

Even though he's big-pawed and clumsy, Cricketpaw tries his best to impress others. He wants to be a good warrior, despite his shortcomings, and once he finally gets those big bones under control he's sure he'll be one of the best warriors this clan has ever seen. Perhaps its wishful thinking, but he's very passionate about being the best and making his deceased family members proud.

History:

When Cricketpaw was just a kit, Cricketkit, he never really understood why Crowkit and Spiderflower couldn't come out to play with him. He was only three moons old when they were whisked away to Rookfrost's den. To play with him, his father would say. But Cricketkit was no fool, and he could read Snowclaw's emotions on his face like a book. That glance he gave to the medicine cat's den was no casual stare, but something that spoke... volumes. If only he could figure out what it was! 

As a kitten, that was his life's goal: find out why they were in there. Every time he tried to enter that den without cause, he was always shooed away; it seemed like he would never understand what was going on. It was only one day, when he had just barely turned five moons old, that his curiosity was rewarded. He was tussling with another kitten, needle-claws digging harmlessly into her fur, when Snowclaw beckoned him away from his games. We're going to see your mother and sister, he said, and Cricketkit couldn't have rejoiced more. 

Perhaps he thought such too soon. It was only after slinking into Rookfrost's den and eyes adjusting to the light that he saw his family members, curled into one another in their nest. Spiderflower's fur was the dullest black he had ever seen, and Crowkit's fur was wild and unkempt. Cricketkit stepped forward to smooth out her fur - only to be stopped by his father's tail. His brow furrowed, he told Cricketkit everything he know... which wasn't much. 

We don't know if it's contagious, he said. The herbs Rookfrost gave them haven't been working. Their skin is burning, they can't eat or drink... Cricketkit, they probably won't live for much longer. I'm sorry. 

Maybe that would've broken another cat, but not Cricketkit. He hadn't known his mother or sister that well, but as they laid in their nests he promised them that he would become the warrior they would want him to be. A real warrior, and he'd fight every disease with tooth and claw if he could. He'd never let someone he loved fall prey to illness as easily as he had seen them.