Post by Justice on Feb 1, 2017 0:04:18 GMT -5
Name: Silverkit > Silverpaw > Silverfrost
Age: 22 Moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: Rain
Rank: Warrior
Picture:
Description: Silverfrost is a long-limbed, slender tom-cat with silver fur stripped with black tabby markings that slowly fade to a dark gray and blend into his pelt the further towards his tail it goes. His underside and face are a blend of silver and white fur and he has bright blue eyes that show strikingly against his white fur. His nose is pink and his paws end in sharp claws. He's tall but not bulky, and his fur is of a medium length and thick enough to keep the leafbare cold away. He tends to move with purpose and grace, and has the gait more of a she-cat than a tom.
Description Summary: A tabby striped silver tom-cat with blue eyes and long limbs.
Personality: Silverfrost is naturally calm and level-headed, even when he's angry. He's very charismatic and upbeat, and tends to flirt absently even when he doesn't mean to. He's very open with his emotions, and loves deeply and truly. He's loyal and would never stray, though he also tends to fall in and out of love easily. He'd rather have flings than a mate, since he believes that when StarClan fashions a mate that is really equal to him he'll know.
To those that he considers his friends he can be a gentle cat, courteous and attentive, especially when helping them to deal with more serious issues. Despite this he's very socially awkward when things get emotional, and will panic in dealing with upset or crying cats. He also has no tolerance for the scent of herbs and will avoid the medicine den at all costs since he 'can't tolerate stinkiness' as he puts it. He's also blunt and straightforward in his thoughts and actions, particularly on the faults of others. He'll also tell someone, point blank, what he thinks of them if prompted. While he can be serious Silverfrost prefers to remain lighthearted and happy.
He enjoys surprising those around him, usually by doing something out of his comfort zone that he knows will make them smile. Sometimes this even means making a fool out of himself, especially if it means helping a young apprentice find their confidence. He's also very vain about his looks, and when he can will spend long periods of time grooming and tending to his fur.
His anger runs cold, so when he does lose his temper he tends to get even rather than get angry. This leads to some very vicious behavior from the tom, especially when he's defending the cats closest to him.
History: Born to Burrthorn and Lilygleam as the smallest of four kits in his litter no one really expected Silverfrost to survive. He was weak and small and had a hard time gaining weight and staying well for the first few moons of his life. His parents worried over him and tried to keep him healthy, but it was a long battle for him. His siblings grew big and strong, while he stayed small. It was only once he became an apprentice and his mentor took him from the safety of the nursery, that he finally started to thrive. His health improved, and as he grew from kit to adult he got stronger and left behind the fragility of his kithood.
As he grew Silverfrost started to notice how the she-cats around him reacted to his good looks and unintentional charm, and he decided he liked it. He had several flings as he grew, always ending in a friendly break-up as far as he was concerned. He also figured out how to navigate the slick ice and snow of leafbare, rarely sinking when the snow grew deep. He enjoyed hunting in snow, where his pelt made him practically disappear against the glistening white.
He is diligent in his hunting and his service towards his clan, but prefers to spend time in the company of she-cats. When he can get away with it Silverfrost actively avoids jobs that would get his beautiful pelt coated in mud and grime. He is aware of a few kits of his from various she-cats that he was involved with in the past. He doesn't really see them much, though he brings fresh prey to the mothers when he knows they are carrying his kits. He has no mate and is in no hurry to settle down as long as he can go on the way he is. The only one he knows by name is a tiny she-kit named Fernkit, who is his exact image physically.
He has had one apprentice, a tom now known as Gingerpelt.
RP Example:
Snowfall. Quiet and peaceful and blanketing the valley in its purity and splendor. Perhaps he was a tad bit of a romantic at heart, but he really did love the snow. His mother joked often that the only mate he would ever have was the leafbare snow due to his distinct preferance both for the season and his coloration. The tom watched the flakes drift in the slight breeze, breathing in the crisp air and walking silently with paws splayed in order to keep for sinking.
The beauty of leafbare often distracted him, but the she-cats tended to enjoy listening to him wax poetic about the season as though it were a she-cat. He did enjoy the attention of the Clan females, but sometimes he just wanted to be on his own. Like tonight, bathed in the pale light of the moon and the blanket of soft snowfall. This was where he was truly at home, truly at peace.
Silverfrost roamed towards the water, the small shallow waters now frozen over with the cold of leafbare. Here too he was well suited, having taught himself to move with grace even on the slick ice. At least he didn't fall on his belly or face and skid across awkwardly like many he could name.
This was his secret pleasure, something he did whenever the water froze and fishing became impossible. The river proper never froze safely, but the shallower streams and biways certainly did. The silver tom finally came to the water's edge, laying a paw to the ice and shutting his eyes for a long moment, tipping his head back towards the moon.
"May StarClan's grace follow my pawprints." He always said that prayer when he did this, though he didn't really know why that was. Perhaps in case he fell through the ice. He opened his eyes, routine complete, and confidently stepped out onto the ice.
Who would understand this about him? That he loved the cold and the feel of snow and ice under his paws, that only when the world was dark and still, blanketed in leafbare, was he truly content and free? Perhaps, someday, StarClan would send him a mate that understood, maybe even that shared his deep love of the cold and leafbare itself. Until then he would love whom he wanted, let the whims of his heart dictate his actions and ignore the eventual consequences.
Other: anything else that you want to tell us about the cat that doesn't fit above. If you are making a leader bio, you need to put the 9 gifts your leader received with their lives, which cats gave them their lives and how the cats were close to them (See Ravenstar's bio for an example)
Age: 22 Moons
Gender: Tom
Clan: Rain
Rank: Warrior
Picture:
Description: Silverfrost is a long-limbed, slender tom-cat with silver fur stripped with black tabby markings that slowly fade to a dark gray and blend into his pelt the further towards his tail it goes. His underside and face are a blend of silver and white fur and he has bright blue eyes that show strikingly against his white fur. His nose is pink and his paws end in sharp claws. He's tall but not bulky, and his fur is of a medium length and thick enough to keep the leafbare cold away. He tends to move with purpose and grace, and has the gait more of a she-cat than a tom.
Description Summary: A tabby striped silver tom-cat with blue eyes and long limbs.
Personality: Silverfrost is naturally calm and level-headed, even when he's angry. He's very charismatic and upbeat, and tends to flirt absently even when he doesn't mean to. He's very open with his emotions, and loves deeply and truly. He's loyal and would never stray, though he also tends to fall in and out of love easily. He'd rather have flings than a mate, since he believes that when StarClan fashions a mate that is really equal to him he'll know.
To those that he considers his friends he can be a gentle cat, courteous and attentive, especially when helping them to deal with more serious issues. Despite this he's very socially awkward when things get emotional, and will panic in dealing with upset or crying cats. He also has no tolerance for the scent of herbs and will avoid the medicine den at all costs since he 'can't tolerate stinkiness' as he puts it. He's also blunt and straightforward in his thoughts and actions, particularly on the faults of others. He'll also tell someone, point blank, what he thinks of them if prompted. While he can be serious Silverfrost prefers to remain lighthearted and happy.
He enjoys surprising those around him, usually by doing something out of his comfort zone that he knows will make them smile. Sometimes this even means making a fool out of himself, especially if it means helping a young apprentice find their confidence. He's also very vain about his looks, and when he can will spend long periods of time grooming and tending to his fur.
His anger runs cold, so when he does lose his temper he tends to get even rather than get angry. This leads to some very vicious behavior from the tom, especially when he's defending the cats closest to him.
History: Born to Burrthorn and Lilygleam as the smallest of four kits in his litter no one really expected Silverfrost to survive. He was weak and small and had a hard time gaining weight and staying well for the first few moons of his life. His parents worried over him and tried to keep him healthy, but it was a long battle for him. His siblings grew big and strong, while he stayed small. It was only once he became an apprentice and his mentor took him from the safety of the nursery, that he finally started to thrive. His health improved, and as he grew from kit to adult he got stronger and left behind the fragility of his kithood.
As he grew Silverfrost started to notice how the she-cats around him reacted to his good looks and unintentional charm, and he decided he liked it. He had several flings as he grew, always ending in a friendly break-up as far as he was concerned. He also figured out how to navigate the slick ice and snow of leafbare, rarely sinking when the snow grew deep. He enjoyed hunting in snow, where his pelt made him practically disappear against the glistening white.
He is diligent in his hunting and his service towards his clan, but prefers to spend time in the company of she-cats. When he can get away with it Silverfrost actively avoids jobs that would get his beautiful pelt coated in mud and grime. He is aware of a few kits of his from various she-cats that he was involved with in the past. He doesn't really see them much, though he brings fresh prey to the mothers when he knows they are carrying his kits. He has no mate and is in no hurry to settle down as long as he can go on the way he is. The only one he knows by name is a tiny she-kit named Fernkit, who is his exact image physically.
He has had one apprentice, a tom now known as Gingerpelt.
RP Example:
Snowfall. Quiet and peaceful and blanketing the valley in its purity and splendor. Perhaps he was a tad bit of a romantic at heart, but he really did love the snow. His mother joked often that the only mate he would ever have was the leafbare snow due to his distinct preferance both for the season and his coloration. The tom watched the flakes drift in the slight breeze, breathing in the crisp air and walking silently with paws splayed in order to keep for sinking.
The beauty of leafbare often distracted him, but the she-cats tended to enjoy listening to him wax poetic about the season as though it were a she-cat. He did enjoy the attention of the Clan females, but sometimes he just wanted to be on his own. Like tonight, bathed in the pale light of the moon and the blanket of soft snowfall. This was where he was truly at home, truly at peace.
Silverfrost roamed towards the water, the small shallow waters now frozen over with the cold of leafbare. Here too he was well suited, having taught himself to move with grace even on the slick ice. At least he didn't fall on his belly or face and skid across awkwardly like many he could name.
This was his secret pleasure, something he did whenever the water froze and fishing became impossible. The river proper never froze safely, but the shallower streams and biways certainly did. The silver tom finally came to the water's edge, laying a paw to the ice and shutting his eyes for a long moment, tipping his head back towards the moon.
"May StarClan's grace follow my pawprints." He always said that prayer when he did this, though he didn't really know why that was. Perhaps in case he fell through the ice. He opened his eyes, routine complete, and confidently stepped out onto the ice.
Who would understand this about him? That he loved the cold and the feel of snow and ice under his paws, that only when the world was dark and still, blanketed in leafbare, was he truly content and free? Perhaps, someday, StarClan would send him a mate that understood, maybe even that shared his deep love of the cold and leafbare itself. Until then he would love whom he wanted, let the whims of his heart dictate his actions and ignore the eventual consequences.
Other: anything else that you want to tell us about the cat that doesn't fit above. If you are making a leader bio, you need to put the 9 gifts your leader received with their lives, which cats gave them their lives and how the cats were close to them (See Ravenstar's bio for an example)