Post by Raven on May 31, 2008 12:18:20 GMT -5
Picture;
Name;
Ravensky
Gender;
She-cat
Age;
28 moons
Clan;
SnowClan
Rank;
Warrior
Description;
A multitude of colors, all splashed onto a canvas. No obvious pattern, no scheme by the great creator. The pelt of this she-cat was a mixture, marbled shades of browns and black. Orange thrown in for dashes of vibrancy. Light cream, almost ivory smudges blending in nicely with the rest of the tones. Her build is willowy, lithe muscles lending the owner speed and agility. Slender paws conceal the ivory, thorn sharp claws. Pools of blue are constantly darting from side to side, taking in everything. They seem to stare at you, unrelenting in their hold. Emotions flicker through them like ripples in a pond. Mirroring her emotions to give the seeker her state of heart. Pale pink lines stretch across her left hind limb, scars from long ago that will forever mark her. A light rose nose a white whiskers top this feline off, giving the appearance of Ravensky.
Personality;
Snappy comments and razor sharp retorts are the main outer aspect of Ravensky. She is not known for kindness or gentleness. It is rare that you will find her is a mood permissible enough to get by with any wrong-doings. She doesn’t seek fights, but if you give her even a small reason she will flare up and give you the worst reprimand of your life. It isn’t saying that she was always like this, as a kit she was much friendlier. Harsh events can change anyone’s outlook though.
Inside of that weary heart of hers she is aching. Being in close crowds causes intimidation and clan life seems to get harder in with each passing moon. She secretly hopes to soon change her ways, perhaps curve the bad attitude of hers.
History;
Her past wasn’t a very enjoyable one. After an accident with a badger her apprenticeship was delayed and she was left alone. Ravensky’s only sister, Kestrelkit, had been killed in the badger mauling, her left with injuries and scars that will never vanish. Her father, Rockstream, had died previously of sickness, not reacting to herbs given by the Medicine Cat.
Her apprentice moons went by fast and for the most part enjoyable, filled with training sessions and encouragement from her mother. She was soon given her warrior name, a happy day indeed. Her mother soon fell ill and left for StarClan. That seemed to be the last straw for the already damaged Ravensky. She secluded herself to her thoughts, only opening up to snap at rude apprentices and nosey warriors.
Kin;
Deceased
Mate;
None
Crush;
None
Kits;
None
Role Play Example;
The sun was slowly rising; a peaceful and memorable sight indeed. The navy sky slowly fading away. The hill tops were being painted in gold. When the light hit the clouds pinks and oranges washed across the sky. Gold and blue clashed, a short battle between day and night, light and dark. Inevitably the light won and the sun continued seeping into the cold setting, waking the sleeping felines.
Blue eyes slowly fluttered open, the glazed depths staring out blankly at the poetic sight. It was just another morning to Ravensky. No morning held interest or importance, another day of living in the clan that only gave her ill feelings. The familiar nausea overcame her, her stomach did flips and a groan escaped her dry mouth. Even thoughts seemed to make her sick some days.
The rustle of cats awakening around her finally drew Ravensky from her nest, forcing her into the chilly morning Dew glistened on leaves, droplets slowly sliding to hang on for a split second before falling to the ground. Her paws stepped lightly through the grass, muffling her steps. It was quiet, so surreal and calm.
The placidness was sickening.
Her blue eyes took on a hard glint, thoughts driving her closer to the edge, the urge to slash out at something overwhelming.
A few hasty breaths, choking on the precious air to get it into her lungs quick enough. The run had been fast and unpredicted. The feeling had been too great so she flew with it, using the feelings to fuel her high speeds. Her windswept fur was plastered against her body, its multicolor depths sharp and contrasting against the now golden horizon.
“Could you join the dawn patrol Ravensky? Littlewing has an infected thorn wound” a small voice called out. Her head whipped around, blue eyes seeking out the source. A warrior stood, looking bored with himself though with a hint of fear showing in his appearance. “Fine, but I don’t see why it is infected. Any half bit warrior should know to clean their own wounds” she spat in contempt. She swung around with a slash of her dark tail.
Ravensky moved silently back into camp, avoiding any clanmates.
She knew she would have to change herself. Her actions, they were so counter-productive she could literally feel herself drawing closer to the edge with every word. If she let it go on any longer would she be able to return from the depths of her own self-pity and contempt? She didn’t know the answer to that question and as she looked towards the last silver warrior of StarClan she felt that maybe they didn’t know either.
Name;
Ravensky
Gender;
She-cat
Age;
28 moons
Clan;
SnowClan
Rank;
Warrior
Description;
A multitude of colors, all splashed onto a canvas. No obvious pattern, no scheme by the great creator. The pelt of this she-cat was a mixture, marbled shades of browns and black. Orange thrown in for dashes of vibrancy. Light cream, almost ivory smudges blending in nicely with the rest of the tones. Her build is willowy, lithe muscles lending the owner speed and agility. Slender paws conceal the ivory, thorn sharp claws. Pools of blue are constantly darting from side to side, taking in everything. They seem to stare at you, unrelenting in their hold. Emotions flicker through them like ripples in a pond. Mirroring her emotions to give the seeker her state of heart. Pale pink lines stretch across her left hind limb, scars from long ago that will forever mark her. A light rose nose a white whiskers top this feline off, giving the appearance of Ravensky.
Personality;
Snappy comments and razor sharp retorts are the main outer aspect of Ravensky. She is not known for kindness or gentleness. It is rare that you will find her is a mood permissible enough to get by with any wrong-doings. She doesn’t seek fights, but if you give her even a small reason she will flare up and give you the worst reprimand of your life. It isn’t saying that she was always like this, as a kit she was much friendlier. Harsh events can change anyone’s outlook though.
Inside of that weary heart of hers she is aching. Being in close crowds causes intimidation and clan life seems to get harder in with each passing moon. She secretly hopes to soon change her ways, perhaps curve the bad attitude of hers.
History;
Her past wasn’t a very enjoyable one. After an accident with a badger her apprenticeship was delayed and she was left alone. Ravensky’s only sister, Kestrelkit, had been killed in the badger mauling, her left with injuries and scars that will never vanish. Her father, Rockstream, had died previously of sickness, not reacting to herbs given by the Medicine Cat.
Her apprentice moons went by fast and for the most part enjoyable, filled with training sessions and encouragement from her mother. She was soon given her warrior name, a happy day indeed. Her mother soon fell ill and left for StarClan. That seemed to be the last straw for the already damaged Ravensky. She secluded herself to her thoughts, only opening up to snap at rude apprentices and nosey warriors.
Kin;
Deceased
Mate;
None
Crush;
None
Kits;
None
Role Play Example;
The sun was slowly rising; a peaceful and memorable sight indeed. The navy sky slowly fading away. The hill tops were being painted in gold. When the light hit the clouds pinks and oranges washed across the sky. Gold and blue clashed, a short battle between day and night, light and dark. Inevitably the light won and the sun continued seeping into the cold setting, waking the sleeping felines.
Blue eyes slowly fluttered open, the glazed depths staring out blankly at the poetic sight. It was just another morning to Ravensky. No morning held interest or importance, another day of living in the clan that only gave her ill feelings. The familiar nausea overcame her, her stomach did flips and a groan escaped her dry mouth. Even thoughts seemed to make her sick some days.
The rustle of cats awakening around her finally drew Ravensky from her nest, forcing her into the chilly morning Dew glistened on leaves, droplets slowly sliding to hang on for a split second before falling to the ground. Her paws stepped lightly through the grass, muffling her steps. It was quiet, so surreal and calm.
The placidness was sickening.
Her blue eyes took on a hard glint, thoughts driving her closer to the edge, the urge to slash out at something overwhelming.
A few hasty breaths, choking on the precious air to get it into her lungs quick enough. The run had been fast and unpredicted. The feeling had been too great so she flew with it, using the feelings to fuel her high speeds. Her windswept fur was plastered against her body, its multicolor depths sharp and contrasting against the now golden horizon.
“Could you join the dawn patrol Ravensky? Littlewing has an infected thorn wound” a small voice called out. Her head whipped around, blue eyes seeking out the source. A warrior stood, looking bored with himself though with a hint of fear showing in his appearance. “Fine, but I don’t see why it is infected. Any half bit warrior should know to clean their own wounds” she spat in contempt. She swung around with a slash of her dark tail.
Ravensky moved silently back into camp, avoiding any clanmates.
She knew she would have to change herself. Her actions, they were so counter-productive she could literally feel herself drawing closer to the edge with every word. If she let it go on any longer would she be able to return from the depths of her own self-pity and contempt? She didn’t know the answer to that question and as she looked towards the last silver warrior of StarClan she felt that maybe they didn’t know either.
