[BlooRey DVD]

Name: Skykit -> Skypaw -> Skyfall
Age: 44 moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: TreeClan
Rank: Kit -> Apprentice (Mentored by Thornshadow) -> Warrior -> Senior Warrior

Picture: Click for Picture
Additional Picture Headshot Intense Picture

Description: Skyfall is a fairly well built tom, standing at what could be considered your average size for a TreeClan tom. He isn't overly muscular, nor does he have a build that would instantly label him as intimidating. If at any time, he seems to be of larger build, it is most likely due to his fur. It isn't spectacularly long, as it is with some TreeClan cats, but it has a volume to it, and may give him an appearance that ranks him a little over the average. In Greenleaf, his pelt is thinner than in Leafbare, where it usually grows longer, in order to keep him warm. His fur is white as bone, without a single mark of other color upon it, unless of course, he happens to get dirty. With a coat like his, you can imagine that it happens quite a bit. He takes care of his coat, keeping that fact in mind.

Other than his snow-white coat, Skyfall's most remarkable feature is his eyes. Being two different colors, they often attract attention during conversation. Skyfall's right eye is blue, while his left eye is a pale green. Though his right eye is most certainly blue, his left eye is often a subject for conversation. Being so pale, it can look almost yellow in certain lights. Skyfall, however, is determined to uphold that it is green. The shade of green is best seen when he is standing amongst grass. The slightest similarity can be seen between the strands of green grass and his mystery-colored eye.

Skyfall's strongest point is hunting. He has steady shoulders, and a strong back, allowing him to crouch and stalk forward with practiced ease. Skyfall's paws, though somewhat large, are agile enough that he is able to move them quickly and efficiently, and occasionally, he can even maneuver them to enable him to reach into cracks to chase out a stray mouse who thought it might have gotten away.

Because Skyfall's fur banks slightly towards the long side, his tail plumes slightly. Rather than being slim and short furred, it is covered by fur that seems longer than the fur covering the rest of his body. He is careful to carry his tail off of the ground, considering its size and color.

Skyfall is armed with sharp teeth, of a shade of white nearly identical to that of his fur. His jaw is strong, used to carrying prey that he catches. In his mouth, he has a pale pink tongue, most often seen while yawning, or cleaning his pelt. Skyfall's weapons of choice, however, are found in his paws. Because Skyfall is so used to using his paws, he is more likely to attack with his needle sharp, clear claws, rather than his teeth. His claws don't require him to get as close to his opponent as his teeth do.

Description Summary: A semi-long furred white tom with one blue and one pale green eye.

Personality: Skyfall has become a somewhat reserved tom. He is quiet in a way, and doesn't often share his feelings with others. He doesn't mind chatting with others, in fact he loves to talk, which seems to completely contradict what has just been said. The elements that make the difference between Skyfall being quiet, and talkative, is who he is talking to, and what the subject matter is. As previously mentioned, dumping feelings isn't his strong point. He's more likely to bottle them up inside and pretend everything is great, even though you can tell they aren't. He's stubborn in the sense that, no matter how much you pester him, he won't tell you what's on his mind.

Respect is something quite important to this white tom. If you have his respect, you're generally pretty safe when it comes to his behaviour. He is courteous to those he respects, regarding them with a sort of admiration. One cat he holds a lot of respect for is Lionstar. It isn't simply because he is Clan leader. Even as a kit, Skyfall had an interest in Lionstar, as though he knew great things were in store for the lion-like tom.

One emotion Skyfall has all but banned himself from feeling is love. He's extremely hesitant about anything even similar to it. Skyfall cares for everyone in TreeClan to a certain degree, because they are his Clanmates, he understands that. For a Clan to be strong, they need to work together. For the sake of the Clan as a whole, Skyfall cooperates and accepts others. To say he has many close friends, however, would be a lie. In an attempt to protect himself from anything akin to love, Skyfall doesn't spend much time with others.

This white tom paints the perfect picture of Clan loyalty. When prey is low, Skyfall will go out a thousand times if necessary, just to find one piece of prey to bring back to the Clan. To him, the whole is more valuable than the individual. His slight disconnect with the Clan can easily be written off as Skyfall simply doing everything he can to serve his Clan, which is mostly true.

All this isn't to say Skyfall is a bad tom. Just.. A little misunderstood. He would gladly help anyone who needs it, and is always open to discuss the day's business with anyone. If you need some help with hunting techniques, Skyfall is more than happy to go over them with you. He enjoys tagging along on training sessions for the apprentices, to help out in any way he can. Skyfall is an intelligent tom, willing to teach and be taught. He's great in conversation, and it is obvious that he considers his words carefully before speaking up.

Skyfall has a bizarre interest in the night. If it were his choice, he'd sleep during the day, and stay up at night. In his opinion, no matter how beautifully blue the sky might be on a warm, sunny day, there is something... More intriguing about the cool air at night, with the gentle breezes, and the soft, silvery light from the moon. When the stars fill the sky, Skyfall can often be caught gazing up at them, with something akin to wonder in those mismatched eyes.

History: Born in a litter of three kits to TreeClan warriors Blackwing and Cloudpool, Skykit was one of two white kits in the litter. His father, Blackwing, was a mostly black tom, with occasional white spots. His mother, Cloudpool was a white she-cat, with a few darker, near black spots here and there. He had one sister and one brother. His sister, Swankit, was the second white kit in the litter. It may come as a shock, but the third kit, a little black bundle, was known by the name Whitekit. Whitekit was named due to the single white toe he possessed.

The three grew quickly, though not all possessed the same energy. Two would stumble through the nursery causing havoc at every corner. Of course, they didn't mean to. They were such innocent bundles of joy. Skykit was admittedly much closer to his sister, Swankit, than he was with Whitekit. Whitekit often stayed by their mother, snuggling up to her soft fur. Swankit and Skykit's favourite game was to sit side by side, being relatively the same size, and shutting their eyes to make it impossible to differentiate between the two of them.

By the time the three kits were apprenticed, however, Skykit had begun to grow noticeably larger than his sister. The three were given their apprentice names, becoming Skypaw, Swanpaw, and Whitepaw, which made a little more sense for the black tom with the seemingly un-fitting name. Skypaw's mentor was a red tabby tom by the name of Thornshadow. He was a warrior of a reasonable age, young enough to keep up with young Skypaw's antics. Swanpaw's mentor was a tom known by the name Walnutpelt, while Whitepaw, always the final cat in the litter, was mentored by a tom named Bluestorm.

It is easy to say it was Whitepaw who took the training the most seriously. Not wrapped up by the same spell Skypaw and Swanpaw seemed to have been trapped by, he was not constantly causing trouble. The two white apprentice would have trouble focusing on the lessons being taught to them. Admittedly, it frustrated Thornshadow. No matter how much the older tom tried, using various different tactics, he seemed unsuccessful in getting the young white cat to take training seriously.

The moons dragged on by slowly, with Whitepaw incredibly ahead of his siblings when it came to battle and hunting techniques. Even Cloudpool and Blackwing couldn't get Swanpaw and Skypaw to view their apprenticeship in a more serious light. The pair seemed to be a lost cause. As long as they both acted immaturely, the cycle would never be broken. Perhaps only one of the three would make it to warriorhood on time.

Four moons into his apprenticeship, however, something happened that would change the course of young Skypaw's life. At ten moons of age, during one of his antics, a young warrior stepped forward. To Skypaw the warrior looked huge, with a lion like mane and a powerful air surrounding him. To this day, Skyfall remembers being approached, but not the exact words of scolding that the warrior, who was then known as Lionstep, gave him. One bit did, however, stick with him. "Smarten up."

The change was noticeable. Swanpaw was left without a partner in crime. No one can figure out why those words, coming from that specific cat worked when nothing else did, but they did. Without her brother's support, Swanpaw also abandoned her old ways, albeit a little begrudgingly. Though Skypaw and Swanpaw had to watch their brother become Whiteclaw without them, the last four moons of their apprenticeship were spent actually working.

At 14 moons, Skypaw finally earned his warrior name, Skyfall. Standing beside his sister, now Swandive, the pair looked changed. They were proud full warriors of TreeClan, no longer the young troublemakers that had nearly destroyed the nursery countless times over.

As he grew older, Skyfall's interest in she-cats began flourishing. His first true love interest was a she-cat rather close to his age. He had spent some time training with her in the past, and to him she was beautiful. He had known her then as Gentlepaw, though by this point, she was known as Gentlebreeze. Skyfall began to spend quite a bit of time near Gentlebreeze, hoping that he would catch her eye as much as she'd caught his.

Unfortunately for him, all of his advances seemed to go unnoticed, and the pretty white she-cat seemed to move on without him. Young and wounded of the heart, little did he know he would never truly recover from her oblivious rejection. A few moons later, his interest was caught by a she-cat slightly younger than him by the name of Emberstorm. Emberstorm was not like Gentlebreeze in the least. Rather than being pushed away by Emberstorm's obliviousness, he was downright refused by her.

Though it might not seem like all that much, the two refusals were enough to put the tom off of romance for good. Instead, the tom devotes himself to the Clan, occasionally picking solitude over company. Skyfall still enjoys intelligent conversations, as well as answering questions. His mind, however, does wonder, especially at night, when the stars are out in the sky.

RP Example:

The white tom sat hunched over, deft paw gently sifting through the herbs at his paws. He was stunned to see he was short on borage leaves. How bizarre… The TreeClan medicine cat thought to himself. He paused for a moment, tilting his head. Have we had a particularly large number of queens recently? I didn’t think there were so many… Leaving himself a mental note to fetch more borage leaves, the tom continued rifling through his stock of herbs. He’d noticed the pile beginning to dwindle, and with the weather so warm outside as of late, Skyfall had decided it was time to figure out what he needed, and then go and fetch it.

I’ll need to bring someone with me…To help carry some herbs. With a flick of his ear, Skyfall considered asking his late mentor’s daughter, Brokensong. With the torbie being mute, any need for conversation along the way would be annihilated, allowing him to focus on the task at hand. I can’t possibly forget what I need to fetch if there is nothing to distract me from remembering.

For a brief moment, Skyfall’s mind drifted back to a time when he hadn’t had a care in the world, when he’d been training to be a warrior of TreeClan. He still didn’t quite understand how his path had changed so dramatically, but he wasn’t complaining. At least now he had a decent amount of time alone. He enjoyed time alone.

He swept up the remainder of his herbs, repeating the names of the herbs he needed to fetch. After saying each name three times, it seemed to ingrain itself in his memory, almost as though someone were chanting it, without him having to think directly about it. His paws, though of a fairly decent size, were surprisingly gentle when it came to dealing with the herbs that could still be used. He didn’t want to risk damaging them, as someone might need them. These herbs might just be the difference between life and death…

The importance of his role in the Clan was yet again clear to the white tom. He wondered if it was ever too much for some cats, knowing that the life of a Clan member could depend on your actions. As he carefully stored the herbs in damp grooves within the den walls, Skyfall’s tail swished back and forth. He kept it away from his store, ensuring it moved outside of the cleft where he kept the medicinal herbs.

He was about to turn to discard the wilted, unusable herbs that remained when a screech caught him off guard. With a sharp jerk, Skyfall’s head collided with a slight overhang, shaking the tom’s vision for a moment. He staggered, giving himself a sharp, silent scolding as he forced himself to regain focus. What in the name of StarClan was that… And then it hit him.

The sharp tang of blood drifted through the entrance to his den, leaving a metallic taste upon the medicine cat’s tongue. His ears flattened briefly, shielding themselves as someone desperately called out his name in a cry so shrill it would wake a badger sleeping in another territory.

Instinctively, Skyfall pulled together a bundle of herbs, wrapped in a larger, sturdy beech leaf. It consisted of goldenrod, horsetail and marigold, the scent mixing and wafting up to block out the unmistakable tang of blood. His tail made a sweeping, and then slight turning motion, gathering up a wad of cobwebs that he kept, wrapped around a sturdy stick, for quick exits such as this. Moving swiftly, he bounded out of his den, a single, grim thought passing through his mind.

At least no one needs borage leaves…


Other: Nope~