Post by Smokeleaf on May 19, 2009 19:47:01 GMT -5
Name: Whiteash
Rank: Warrior
Age: 47 moons
Gender: Tomcat
Clan: StreamClan
Kin: Open
Mate: Open
Apprentice: Open
Pelt: Whiteash's pelt is a blend of - you guessed it - white and gray. The white coloring is definitely the base, claiming most of his body and contaminating all else. It's of a very striking purity, yet this is diminished by the gray splotches covering most other areas, including his ears and paws. This coloring also saddles his back, and streaks across his left shoulder and tail. His face is a medley of the two colors, resembling an ashen butterfly that landed atop a stone on a snowy winter day.
Eyes: Whiteash's eyes are of dark brown coloring, rather insignificant against his pelt, unlike blues and greens. If eyes could melt, they would most definitely reveal wisdom and light, which he rather denies he has.
Personality: Whiteash is what most would refer to as stubborn… if not egotistical. He sees himself as being a senior warrior, and is thus perfectly willing to give his advice to his Clanmates, whether they want it or not. He tends to be slightly cantankerous, but really and truly has a soft spot for kits. Unlike most cats, he loves it when they play with his tail. Of course, this is not something a proud cat like Whiteash goes around telling the whole Clan, but the smartest kits figure it out after a while. However, he has no patience for new warriors who prance around like they own the place, completely oblivious to their own haughtiness… sound familiar? However, despite his rubbing fur the wrong way, his advice actually is pretty sensible. But seeing as his head is big enough, most cats come to him as a second or third resort.
History: In every good novel, you have the main character that always has an elaborate history, changes the world, and can’t seem to move their feet whenever something tragic occurs. Whiteash is exactly the opposite. He was kitted in the usual way, had his fair share of friends and enemies, and became a warrior without anything too interesting happening along the way. His stories around the campfire would be his having caught three mice on a rainy day, and that’s about it.
Rank: Warrior
Age: 47 moons
Gender: Tomcat
Clan: StreamClan
Kin: Open
Mate: Open
Apprentice: Open
Pelt: Whiteash's pelt is a blend of - you guessed it - white and gray. The white coloring is definitely the base, claiming most of his body and contaminating all else. It's of a very striking purity, yet this is diminished by the gray splotches covering most other areas, including his ears and paws. This coloring also saddles his back, and streaks across his left shoulder and tail. His face is a medley of the two colors, resembling an ashen butterfly that landed atop a stone on a snowy winter day.
Eyes: Whiteash's eyes are of dark brown coloring, rather insignificant against his pelt, unlike blues and greens. If eyes could melt, they would most definitely reveal wisdom and light, which he rather denies he has.
Personality: Whiteash is what most would refer to as stubborn… if not egotistical. He sees himself as being a senior warrior, and is thus perfectly willing to give his advice to his Clanmates, whether they want it or not. He tends to be slightly cantankerous, but really and truly has a soft spot for kits. Unlike most cats, he loves it when they play with his tail. Of course, this is not something a proud cat like Whiteash goes around telling the whole Clan, but the smartest kits figure it out after a while. However, he has no patience for new warriors who prance around like they own the place, completely oblivious to their own haughtiness… sound familiar? However, despite his rubbing fur the wrong way, his advice actually is pretty sensible. But seeing as his head is big enough, most cats come to him as a second or third resort.
History: In every good novel, you have the main character that always has an elaborate history, changes the world, and can’t seem to move their feet whenever something tragic occurs. Whiteash is exactly the opposite. He was kitted in the usual way, had his fair share of friends and enemies, and became a warrior without anything too interesting happening along the way. His stories around the campfire would be his having caught three mice on a rainy day, and that’s about it.