Post by swiftpool on Apr 1, 2009 17:12:47 GMT -5
Name:Irisclaw
Age:25 Moons
Gender:She~cat
Rank:Deputy/warrior i didnt no if they had a deputy yet sorry if they do
Clan:Windclan
Description: Iris’s coat, which can be described as primarily a soft, pastel cream color, has a variety of markings decorating it. While her fur is of medium length and easy to clean if it comes to it, there could be times when the splotches of darker bluish-gray that are dabbled onto her pelt like paint on a canvas makes it hard to see whether or not there are any dirty spots within the confines of her fur. Along with those “splotches”, and overlaid by the darker markings, are patches of a darker-hued cream than her primary color entails. There are so many of these bluish-gray and darker cream markings, actually, that most of the lighter cream only shows up at her belly, neck, forehead, and on small patches at her tail.
Her muzzle, shaped by StarClan so that it is a little flat and small, carries upon its broad tip a small, dainty bright red nose. While not wholly pink, it does seem bright enough so that it complements her hide’s colors. Long, thin whiskers the color of morning frost in the most austere leaf-bare, adorn her snout like a Christmas ornament.
The loner’s eyes, as calm and calculating as they are, is colored a sort of hazy amber; or, to put it in mundane words, a slightly dark amber, indiscernible without close inspection. Her pupils, a bit strangely, are large and round, dominating almost half of the eye-space at once.
(( I’m going along with an appearance something like this picture:
www.coonsworth.com/images/photos/happyl.jpg
Personality:
Quick-witted and light-tongued, Iris is a she-cat that can win a war based on wordplay alone. Somewhat “scholarly” (or as scholarly as cats can go, really), she delights in the expressions that other cats give her after a drawn-out soliloquy, most of the time adding a hint of her true sNoy nature to her speech. She enjoys jostling toms with her personality, just for the fun of it. In fact, many a cat has admitted to being flustered at the sight of the she-cat.
In addition to her immense enjoyment of showing off her intelligence, Iris is a cat who, more or less, flirts. The bleakness of the sentence doesn’t do her personality justice, though. Mainly due to her sNoy attitude and high self-esteem, she will often thingy an ear towards a tom to get his attention, or flick her tail at him. When he came, she would start sweet-talking – most of the time – to the cat in question... And, well, let’s leave it at that for now.
History:Born in the cozy warmth of an underground den, Iris was the pride of her parents’ lives, mainly because most of her siblings were stillborn. The one sister that did survive alongside her, though, was a sickly cat; thin, shaking, and not taken to the normal activities expected of kits. Because of this, her parents – being the loners they were – immediately took favor to the patch-marked she-cat, and paid little attention to the sickly one.
During the first moons of her life, Iris spent much of her time chasing all manner of feathered flying animals around. Later, she found out they were called “birds”; then, after that, she learned individual names (though she could only glean the information from her parents after much begging), and practiced reciting them to the birds, who always flew away before she could finish talking to it. Thus, she started to spend her time with her sickly sister, instead reciting the names to her. Of course, she didn’t run away; all she did was sit there and sniffle.
Near her 8-moon mark, Iris was aghast to learn that, during the night, her sister died noiselessly at her side. The young, ill cat had finally succumbed to her disease (or diseases, Iris put in airily some moons later). Her grief at her companion – she had thought of her sister more of a companion than actual family – was made even more deplorable as her parents brushed the corpse aside and left it for the scavengers to eat. “She was not a strong cat,” Iris remembered her father saying uninterestedly, “and has won no place in our hearts.” Afterwards, for a few moons, Iris harbored a growing hate for her parents, who always acted as if she was their only kit; that she had been born an only kit, and that the sickly one had never existed. She choked whenever she tried to speak to them, more from anger at their indifference to the death that racked her so than from the “hairballs” she claimed to have stuck in her throat.
Moons later, when she finally couldn’t stand the very sight of her parents anymore, Iris ran away, but not in secret: in fact, it was in broad daylight, with her parents right in front of her, observing events. She had made up her mind beforehand, that she would make as if to run away, and see if her parents tried to get her back. If they did, well, they could be tolerated; if not, she really would go away.
Her parents did nothing but stare at her back as she ran.
Roleplay Sample: Irisclaw awoke she stared around the room "Time to go hunting"She left the entrance and stalked a huge crow silently She pounced on it and wrestled it she dragged her prey back triumphantly eyes gleaming with enjoyment.
History:
Sample rp:
Other:
Age:25 Moons
Gender:She~cat
Rank:Deputy/warrior i didnt no if they had a deputy yet sorry if they do
Clan:Windclan
Description: Iris’s coat, which can be described as primarily a soft, pastel cream color, has a variety of markings decorating it. While her fur is of medium length and easy to clean if it comes to it, there could be times when the splotches of darker bluish-gray that are dabbled onto her pelt like paint on a canvas makes it hard to see whether or not there are any dirty spots within the confines of her fur. Along with those “splotches”, and overlaid by the darker markings, are patches of a darker-hued cream than her primary color entails. There are so many of these bluish-gray and darker cream markings, actually, that most of the lighter cream only shows up at her belly, neck, forehead, and on small patches at her tail.
Her muzzle, shaped by StarClan so that it is a little flat and small, carries upon its broad tip a small, dainty bright red nose. While not wholly pink, it does seem bright enough so that it complements her hide’s colors. Long, thin whiskers the color of morning frost in the most austere leaf-bare, adorn her snout like a Christmas ornament.
The loner’s eyes, as calm and calculating as they are, is colored a sort of hazy amber; or, to put it in mundane words, a slightly dark amber, indiscernible without close inspection. Her pupils, a bit strangely, are large and round, dominating almost half of the eye-space at once.
(( I’m going along with an appearance something like this picture:
www.coonsworth.com/images/photos/happyl.jpg
Personality:
Quick-witted and light-tongued, Iris is a she-cat that can win a war based on wordplay alone. Somewhat “scholarly” (or as scholarly as cats can go, really), she delights in the expressions that other cats give her after a drawn-out soliloquy, most of the time adding a hint of her true sNoy nature to her speech. She enjoys jostling toms with her personality, just for the fun of it. In fact, many a cat has admitted to being flustered at the sight of the she-cat.
In addition to her immense enjoyment of showing off her intelligence, Iris is a cat who, more or less, flirts. The bleakness of the sentence doesn’t do her personality justice, though. Mainly due to her sNoy attitude and high self-esteem, she will often thingy an ear towards a tom to get his attention, or flick her tail at him. When he came, she would start sweet-talking – most of the time – to the cat in question... And, well, let’s leave it at that for now.
History:Born in the cozy warmth of an underground den, Iris was the pride of her parents’ lives, mainly because most of her siblings were stillborn. The one sister that did survive alongside her, though, was a sickly cat; thin, shaking, and not taken to the normal activities expected of kits. Because of this, her parents – being the loners they were – immediately took favor to the patch-marked she-cat, and paid little attention to the sickly one.
During the first moons of her life, Iris spent much of her time chasing all manner of feathered flying animals around. Later, she found out they were called “birds”; then, after that, she learned individual names (though she could only glean the information from her parents after much begging), and practiced reciting them to the birds, who always flew away before she could finish talking to it. Thus, she started to spend her time with her sickly sister, instead reciting the names to her. Of course, she didn’t run away; all she did was sit there and sniffle.
Near her 8-moon mark, Iris was aghast to learn that, during the night, her sister died noiselessly at her side. The young, ill cat had finally succumbed to her disease (or diseases, Iris put in airily some moons later). Her grief at her companion – she had thought of her sister more of a companion than actual family – was made even more deplorable as her parents brushed the corpse aside and left it for the scavengers to eat. “She was not a strong cat,” Iris remembered her father saying uninterestedly, “and has won no place in our hearts.” Afterwards, for a few moons, Iris harbored a growing hate for her parents, who always acted as if she was their only kit; that she had been born an only kit, and that the sickly one had never existed. She choked whenever she tried to speak to them, more from anger at their indifference to the death that racked her so than from the “hairballs” she claimed to have stuck in her throat.
Moons later, when she finally couldn’t stand the very sight of her parents anymore, Iris ran away, but not in secret: in fact, it was in broad daylight, with her parents right in front of her, observing events. She had made up her mind beforehand, that she would make as if to run away, and see if her parents tried to get her back. If they did, well, they could be tolerated; if not, she really would go away.
Her parents did nothing but stare at her back as she ran.
Roleplay Sample: Irisclaw awoke she stared around the room "Time to go hunting"She left the entrance and stalked a huge crow silently She pounced on it and wrestled it she dragged her prey back triumphantly eyes gleaming with enjoyment.
History:
Sample rp:
Other:
