Post by Phoenix on Jul 20, 2018 19:55:13 GMT -5
Basics
NAME: thunderkit
AGE: three moons
GENDER: male
CLAN: lightningclan
RANK: kit
AGE: three moons
GENDER: male
CLAN: lightningclan
RANK: kit
Identification
PICTURE: source
BRIEF: a slender, short-furred silver tom with yellow eyes and black stripes
DETAILED:
BRIEF: a slender, short-furred silver tom with yellow eyes and black stripes
DETAILED:
Thunderkit doesn't look like trouble. On the small side, he takes more after his father in appearance. Dark stripes stand out against a backdrop of silver fur that is almost never perfectly neat, and his lean frame allows him to sneak into more places than his more responsible clan members might appreciate. He has a shrewd yellow gaze that always seems to be sizing up the situation as though he were trying to calculate his next set of actions such that they cause maximum disruption. Even at his young age, he moves with an air of purpose and the confidence of one who knows that the future is his for the taking. As he grows, Thunderkit will come to realize that he will never be the large, muscular tom who will overpower all of his opponents through sheer strength and size; instead, he will maintain the slender build more typical of LightningClan cats and learn to rely on the speed of both his legs and his wit for defense.
Behavior
SONG: thunderstruck
LIKES: pranks, having fun, his family
DISLIKES: boredom
DETAILED:
LIKES: pranks, having fun, his family
DISLIKES: boredom
DETAILED:
Much like his name suggests, nothing is ever quiet when Thunderkit is around – or rather, it is precisely when things are too quiet that the astute feline knows to check their nest for hidden thorns before laying in it. Discretion is not in his vocabulary. He finds ways to cause trouble as if doing so is his sole mission in life. Shrewd and cunning, this young tom puts every ounce of his natural creativity into making life difficult for those around him, and to the constant frustration of those who try to instill a sense of responsibility and maturity in him, he takes great pride in his work. Rules were made to be broken. Authority figures exist to be disobeyed. This world belongs to him as much as it does anyone else; who are they to tell him what he can and cannot do? Consequences roll off him like water off a duck. Stuck in the nursery? It’s only another challenge to see how long it will take until someone gets so tired of him that they’ll kick him back out.
Everything is a game to him. An indomitable spirit in a small body, he is the master of his own life, and StarClan pity the cat who tries to tell him otherwise. He will do what he wants when he wants to. As a connoisseur of the finer aspects of life, he is drawn not only to the exciting thrills that get his blood racing but also toward the physically pleasing – the feeling of the sun warming his back, the lingering coolness after a recent rainfall, the blinding flash of lightning cutting across a darkened backdrop of storm clouds. His impulse to prioritize finding said luxuries over fulfilling any particular responsibilities has him shaping up to become the physical manifestation of wasted potential, but headstrong and stubborn, he does not listen well to those who try to curb his self-indulgent habits. After all, his snarky quips are not limited to those who are equal or lesser than him, and perhaps only those who receive any different are those felines who catch his eye. He has long lamented that his greatest and only weakness is a beautiful feline.
One has to be careful when asking Thunderkit questions, for while he may have an answer to everything, more often than not, it is not the answer one seeks. Indeed, getting him to stop talking is infinitely harder than getting him to start. A tendency toward sarcasm and witty rebuttals overwhelm any chance of a serious response, especially if feelings are involved in the conversation in any way, shape, or form. If one were to ask him, he would say that he’s allergic to feelings, especially talking about them. With enough confidence for an entire clan, he has no trouble with verbal sparring.Armed with a quick mind and a sharp tongue, Thunderkit has started to learn the power of well-placed and well-timed words, in terms of both weaseling his way out of the nastier consequences as well as silencing anyone who gets on his rather short nerves. Although the young tom never quite knows when he has gone too far until he has stepped across that line, he nevertheless tends to find himself surrounded by those who are drawn to his sheer audacity. He seems destined to be in the middle of the action, but even in a crowd, one can be alone. While the keen instincts of a silver-tongued feline help him drift from cat to cat, he is friendly to most but friend to very few.
It is the ultimate game.
Resourceful though he is when it comes to distracting from his particular set of insecurities, strip away the bravado and there hides an entirely different cat. Though he makes a hobby of making life difficult for others, he is not a malicious tom. Loyal to those who manage to find it, his heart is bigger and less guarded than most would expect given his reputation as clan mischief maker, and the opinions of those around him matter more than he would ever care to admit. As his father’s only son, Thunderkit lives with the ghost of Gustclaw watching over his shoulder; in his mind, everyone sees him as “Gustclaw’s son” before they see him as “Thunderkit”. They want him to live up to his father, to make his father proud, but he knows, as imperfect as he is, that he will never live up to the idealized version of Gustclaw to whom he’s been introduced. If he’s destined to fail, then Thunderkit will fail on his own terms, so he makes a show of not trying at all. Trouble runs in his blood, and indulging his natural tendencies is much more satisfying than trying to fight them. And if he pretends for long enough that he doesn’t care what others think or what his father would say, then surely one day that particular lie will become a truth.
Everything is a game to him. An indomitable spirit in a small body, he is the master of his own life, and StarClan pity the cat who tries to tell him otherwise. He will do what he wants when he wants to. As a connoisseur of the finer aspects of life, he is drawn not only to the exciting thrills that get his blood racing but also toward the physically pleasing – the feeling of the sun warming his back, the lingering coolness after a recent rainfall, the blinding flash of lightning cutting across a darkened backdrop of storm clouds. His impulse to prioritize finding said luxuries over fulfilling any particular responsibilities has him shaping up to become the physical manifestation of wasted potential, but headstrong and stubborn, he does not listen well to those who try to curb his self-indulgent habits. After all, his snarky quips are not limited to those who are equal or lesser than him, and perhaps only those who receive any different are those felines who catch his eye. He has long lamented that his greatest and only weakness is a beautiful feline.
One has to be careful when asking Thunderkit questions, for while he may have an answer to everything, more often than not, it is not the answer one seeks. Indeed, getting him to stop talking is infinitely harder than getting him to start. A tendency toward sarcasm and witty rebuttals overwhelm any chance of a serious response, especially if feelings are involved in the conversation in any way, shape, or form. If one were to ask him, he would say that he’s allergic to feelings, especially talking about them. With enough confidence for an entire clan, he has no trouble with verbal sparring.Armed with a quick mind and a sharp tongue, Thunderkit has started to learn the power of well-placed and well-timed words, in terms of both weaseling his way out of the nastier consequences as well as silencing anyone who gets on his rather short nerves. Although the young tom never quite knows when he has gone too far until he has stepped across that line, he nevertheless tends to find himself surrounded by those who are drawn to his sheer audacity. He seems destined to be in the middle of the action, but even in a crowd, one can be alone. While the keen instincts of a silver-tongued feline help him drift from cat to cat, he is friendly to most but friend to very few.
It is the ultimate game.
Resourceful though he is when it comes to distracting from his particular set of insecurities, strip away the bravado and there hides an entirely different cat. Though he makes a hobby of making life difficult for others, he is not a malicious tom. Loyal to those who manage to find it, his heart is bigger and less guarded than most would expect given his reputation as clan mischief maker, and the opinions of those around him matter more than he would ever care to admit. As his father’s only son, Thunderkit lives with the ghost of Gustclaw watching over his shoulder; in his mind, everyone sees him as “Gustclaw’s son” before they see him as “Thunderkit”. They want him to live up to his father, to make his father proud, but he knows, as imperfect as he is, that he will never live up to the idealized version of Gustclaw to whom he’s been introduced. If he’s destined to fail, then Thunderkit will fail on his own terms, so he makes a show of not trying at all. Trouble runs in his blood, and indulging his natural tendencies is much more satisfying than trying to fight them. And if he pretends for long enough that he doesn’t care what others think or what his father would say, then surely one day that particular lie will become a truth.
History
FAMILY
KIT:
MOTHER: cloudyfeather
FATHER:gustclaw
SIBLINGS: lightningkit, sleetkit, windkit
FATHER:
SIBLINGS: lightningkit, sleetkit, windkit
KIT:
An unlikely pairing, Gustclaw and Cloudyfeather fell together more by chance and then found themselves pleasantly surprised by the company. She befriended Gustclaw’s brother, Blazefang, before she ever met him, and had he been his younger self, unburdened by the weight of mourning his brother’s death and celebrating his subsequent return, he might never have ever stopped to notice the quiet she-cat. Somewhere along the line, Gustclaw noticed the budding friendship between his crippled brother and the feline who called the nursery her home. Curiosity more than anything – what about Cloudyfeather had caught the attention of Blazefang of all cats? – prompted him to investigate, and he found himself struck by her thoughtful patience and kindness. As their own friendship evolved, he found himself caring more and more about making her happy. When he realized that he not only wanted to become the type of cat who she would want standing by her side but also wanted to be that cat himself, Gustclaw was just as surprised as the next cat – likely the most surprised of them all, given Blazefang’s reaction to that particular conversation.
Gustclaw and Cloudyfeather kept each other warm that leaf-bare, but though his heart was considerably lighter than it had been in seasons, life was not easy. Fire had left LightningClan’s territory a scorched wasteland, and prey was not plentiful. Upon discovering that Cloudyfeather was expecting, Gustclaw’s priorities immediately shifted to ensuring the health of the future mother and their unborn kits. Time that was not spent hunting for more prey was precious time wasted, and he ate the bare minimum so that his family would survive. By the time the kits were born, three daughters and a son, he had developed a persistent cough from the cold and exhaustion, but it was worth it in the end.
Unfortunately, that was not the end. The promised respite of newleaf did not come, for the moorlands had not had enough time to recover from the fire before leaf-bare set in. With a mate and four young mouths to feed, Gustclaw was busier than ever, and the strain was beginning to take its toll. Offering the fresh prey to Cloudyfeather, he had thought little of settling for some slightly spoiled meat for himself, but his overtaxed immune system, which was barely managing the lingering cough from leaf-bare, couldn’t take anymore. Solids would no longer stay down and liquids passed right through, and after a few very long days, Gustclaw was gone, only comforted by the fact that his brothers would continue looking after his family in his place.
Thunderkit and his sisters were too young to remember their father when he passed, but between Blazefang, Mudpelt, and Cloudyfeather, they are quite familiar with his legacy.
Gustclaw and Cloudyfeather kept each other warm that leaf-bare, but though his heart was considerably lighter than it had been in seasons, life was not easy. Fire had left LightningClan’s territory a scorched wasteland, and prey was not plentiful. Upon discovering that Cloudyfeather was expecting, Gustclaw’s priorities immediately shifted to ensuring the health of the future mother and their unborn kits. Time that was not spent hunting for more prey was precious time wasted, and he ate the bare minimum so that his family would survive. By the time the kits were born, three daughters and a son, he had developed a persistent cough from the cold and exhaustion, but it was worth it in the end.
Unfortunately, that was not the end. The promised respite of newleaf did not come, for the moorlands had not had enough time to recover from the fire before leaf-bare set in. With a mate and four young mouths to feed, Gustclaw was busier than ever, and the strain was beginning to take its toll. Offering the fresh prey to Cloudyfeather, he had thought little of settling for some slightly spoiled meat for himself, but his overtaxed immune system, which was barely managing the lingering cough from leaf-bare, couldn’t take anymore. Solids would no longer stay down and liquids passed right through, and after a few very long days, Gustclaw was gone, only comforted by the fact that his brothers would continue looking after his family in his place.
Thunderkit and his sisters were too young to remember their father when he passed, but between Blazefang, Mudpelt, and Cloudyfeather, they are quite familiar with his legacy.