Post by Cloud of Diamonds on Jul 30, 2009 15:01:47 GMT -5
Name | Swallowpelt
Gender | she-cat
Age | 36 moons
Rank | warrior
Clan | Pine
Beliefs| StarClan? What is StarClan? A bunch of specks of light. Spirits giving prophecies? Please. Don't waste my time with such nonsense. If StarClan were so great, they'd have saved me from the fox. And I wouldn't be so ugly. -Swallowpelt
So apparently she isn't an ancestor-worshiper. Her attitude against anything that can't be proved to exist in front of her eyes is not positive, to say the least. Why should she care about a bunch of dead cats that never did anything for her? In Swallowpelt's opinion, cats live and die and that is that. Nothing beyond life has ever existed or will ever exist. Swallowpelt feels that if by some miracle StarClan does exist, then she'll just darn well go to the Dark Forest and that's that. It couldn't possibly be worse than her life, could it?
Parents | Greyfur-(mother)-dead Jaywhisker-(father)-dead
Siblings | Shrikewhisker-DC (played by Whiskers) (brother) Sootstorm-DC (played by Paije) sister
Other Kin | None
Mate | Otterfur-(played by Crow)
Crush | Not yet
Kits | Elmpaw-tom-(played by Thistle) Crowpaw-tom-(played by Glowy) Willowpaw-she-cat-(played by Whiskers)
Apprentice/Mentor | Branchpaw (played by Thistle)
Appearance | Swallowpelt looks somewhat like Sootstorm; she never questioned that they were sisters. Swallowpelt is a very dark gray, almost black. Her fur is very long, just like her tail. She is scarred in many places as a result of getting mauled by a fox when she was an apprentice. Her whiskers are white and a bit shorter than usual. Her build is heavy, she has lots of muscles in her chest and hind legs. Her muzzle and toes have a sliver tint to them. Her face is somewhat flat, but not squished or anything. Her eyes are yellowish green, and she can see a bit better than usual. Her nose is black, and her whiskers about half an inch shorter than usual.
Personality | Swallowpelt is mostly a grim and sulky cat; it take a lot to get her to smile. She has an enormous hatred of foxes; beyond even the usual hate of foxes shared by all cats. She believes that foxes are the vilest creatures that walk this earth, if she sees a fox, her blood-lust will rise to the point where she'll rip and slash 'til the animal is torn to pieces. The only cats she really opens up to are her siblings and her mate, Otterfur. She likes to hunt, and eat.
She's often shy around other cats, self-conscious because of her scars and her size. She'll snap angrily if she thinks someone's making fun of her, but then immediately become shy again. Not wanting to argue because she'll embarrass herself, she thinks. She's always worried that other cats are mocking her behind her back. She doesn't get annoyed much, but when she does, she'll flare up, and act aggressive before returning to be even sulkier.
When she is praised, she'll shuffle her paws, embarrassed, mumbling her thanks. In the rare times when she is happy, a wide smile will spread across her face like a flower opening in the sun, and her whiskers will flick upwards in an expression of joy or contentment.
She's less depressed than she used to be, but still maintains a cynical outlook on the world in general and is as blunt and mostly antisocial as ever.
Skills | She's pretty good at tracking, sniffing every possible place where a cat could've stepped to trace their trail. Her hunting skills are fair. Fighting's a bit over average; she's not fast, but she can take quite a few blows because of her heavy frame and squish smaller cats easily for the same reason. She can't climb to save her life, as she hates heights.
History | Swallowkit's nose twitched. A new scent? Another kit beside her? She shrugged. It didn't seem too odd. Perhaps it had been there all along and she'd never noticed. She began to nurse again, and soon it seemed like the other kit had always been there.
Swallowkit's first four moons were an ordinary kit's life, with the exception of her missing father, Jaywhisker. Until the day her mother was dragged back dead, slaughtered by a fox. Swallowkit would always look to her big brother for reassurance. However, she lost some faith in him when she thought he valued friends over family. But she continued to live her life, though growing more and more withdrawn as time went on. She felt that there was too much pity, too much happiness even though her mother had been ripped to pieces. The other warriors didn't truly care about her, she thought. Only her siblings did; despite Shrikewhisker's acts, she knew she could trust him. She had to. As an apprentice, she learned well enough, but never had a real relationship with her mentor. But the source of Swallowpaw's future problems occurred on the eve of her warrior ceremony.
"Swallowpaw!" The solid gray apprentice padded over to Spottedfoot, her mentor. "Your final assessment is today, Swallowpaw. Just catch plenty of prey, and you'll be fine." The tortoiseshell warrior grinned in what was supposed to be a reassuring way, but instead made Swallowpaw turn away from her without speaking a word. "Mouse-brain." She mumbled under breath. As if she didn't know about the assessment. She padded off into the forest, hoping to get a bit of peace before the assessment with her, Shrikepaw, and Sootpaw. She stepped along quietly, absorbed in her own thoughts. She was so absorbed she didn't notice the reek of fox in the air, or the eyes that followed her from the underbrush. It was only in the few seconds before the fox pounced she thought something might be wrong. She realized that fox scent was all around her, and began to tense into a fighting stance when with a triumphant snarl, the heavy red-furred animal was upon her. The wind was knocked out of the gray she-cat as she tumbled under the beast's huge weight. It snapped at the side of her head and she felt a torrent of blood down the side of her face. This only fueled her rage as she yanked one of her forelegs from under the fox to slash at its side. The bats howled and leaped off her. Swallowpaw jumped backwards, hissing in fear and rage. What if this was the same fox that had killed her mother? Would it kill her too? A burst of rage swept aside all thoughts as she leaped through the air to land on the fox's back, where it thrashed and clawed for what seemed forever...she felt blood wet on her back, legs, and face as she tumbled around. White spots flashed before her eyes, but she gritted her teeth in an effort to stay conscious. She raked the russet animal's side deeply and long, and it let put such a scream of pain when it shook her off and fled that she felt half-deafened. She lay there for a moment while she heard warriors come rushing towards her before unconsciousness claimed her and she knew no more.
She later woke up in the medicine cat den, with poultices plastered all over her body and almost no pain. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't dead. She padded carefully outside, then stopped with a jolt as she remembered her warrior ceremony. A gasp escaped Swallowpaw at the thought and she rushed over to Spottedfoot, who was sitting outside the warriors' den. "Spottedfoot!" She exclaimed. "I can still be a warrior, right, Spottedfoot?" Her mentor avoided her gaze. "OF course you can, Swallowpaw. I've talked with Brownstar and he decided that because of your bravery in battling the fox, you can become a warrior." Spottedfoot's tone was flat, and her amber eyes didn't meet her apprentice's. Puzzled, Swallowpaw began to open her mouth to ask a question when a small puddle nearby caught her eye. She bent over a little to look into it, and let out a yowl of remorse upon seeing her now forever scarred visage.
When ForestClan split, she decided to go with the rebels to try and start a new life. She'd lost faith in StarClan a long time ago, so she decided to join PineClan with Sootstorm and Shrikewhisker. She found it fairly easy settling in there, since there were far less ForestClan cats who would be uncomfortable around her, and new cats who get used to her more easily, she thought. She was deeply happy when she met Otterfur, loving his goofiness and loyalty to everyone in PineClan. Maybe he'd like her too, in spite of her scars. His jolliness made her feel better every time she was around him. Her love for the brown warrior made her think that maybe, just maybe, her future was bright.
Swallowpelt soon had her kits and though annoying they sometimes were, she loved them and enjoyed raising them through their kithood. The existence of her children and mate has made her somewhat more bearable. She is proud that they are now apprentices but is unhappy at the fact that she must now mentor Branchpaw, a new addition to PineClan.
Gender | she-cat
Age | 36 moons
Rank | warrior
Clan | Pine
Beliefs| StarClan? What is StarClan? A bunch of specks of light. Spirits giving prophecies? Please. Don't waste my time with such nonsense. If StarClan were so great, they'd have saved me from the fox. And I wouldn't be so ugly. -Swallowpelt
So apparently she isn't an ancestor-worshiper. Her attitude against anything that can't be proved to exist in front of her eyes is not positive, to say the least. Why should she care about a bunch of dead cats that never did anything for her? In Swallowpelt's opinion, cats live and die and that is that. Nothing beyond life has ever existed or will ever exist. Swallowpelt feels that if by some miracle StarClan does exist, then she'll just darn well go to the Dark Forest and that's that. It couldn't possibly be worse than her life, could it?
Parents | Greyfur-(mother)-dead Jaywhisker-(father)-dead
Siblings | Shrikewhisker-DC (played by Whiskers) (brother) Sootstorm-DC (played by Paije) sister
Other Kin | None
Mate | Otterfur-(played by Crow)
Crush | Not yet
Kits | Elmpaw-tom-(played by Thistle) Crowpaw-tom-(played by Glowy) Willowpaw-she-cat-(played by Whiskers)
Apprentice/Mentor | Branchpaw (played by Thistle)
Appearance | Swallowpelt looks somewhat like Sootstorm; she never questioned that they were sisters. Swallowpelt is a very dark gray, almost black. Her fur is very long, just like her tail. She is scarred in many places as a result of getting mauled by a fox when she was an apprentice. Her whiskers are white and a bit shorter than usual. Her build is heavy, she has lots of muscles in her chest and hind legs. Her muzzle and toes have a sliver tint to them. Her face is somewhat flat, but not squished or anything. Her eyes are yellowish green, and she can see a bit better than usual. Her nose is black, and her whiskers about half an inch shorter than usual.
Personality | Swallowpelt is mostly a grim and sulky cat; it take a lot to get her to smile. She has an enormous hatred of foxes; beyond even the usual hate of foxes shared by all cats. She believes that foxes are the vilest creatures that walk this earth, if she sees a fox, her blood-lust will rise to the point where she'll rip and slash 'til the animal is torn to pieces. The only cats she really opens up to are her siblings and her mate, Otterfur. She likes to hunt, and eat.
She's often shy around other cats, self-conscious because of her scars and her size. She'll snap angrily if she thinks someone's making fun of her, but then immediately become shy again. Not wanting to argue because she'll embarrass herself, she thinks. She's always worried that other cats are mocking her behind her back. She doesn't get annoyed much, but when she does, she'll flare up, and act aggressive before returning to be even sulkier.
When she is praised, she'll shuffle her paws, embarrassed, mumbling her thanks. In the rare times when she is happy, a wide smile will spread across her face like a flower opening in the sun, and her whiskers will flick upwards in an expression of joy or contentment.
She's less depressed than she used to be, but still maintains a cynical outlook on the world in general and is as blunt and mostly antisocial as ever.
Skills | She's pretty good at tracking, sniffing every possible place where a cat could've stepped to trace their trail. Her hunting skills are fair. Fighting's a bit over average; she's not fast, but she can take quite a few blows because of her heavy frame and squish smaller cats easily for the same reason. She can't climb to save her life, as she hates heights.
History | Swallowkit's nose twitched. A new scent? Another kit beside her? She shrugged. It didn't seem too odd. Perhaps it had been there all along and she'd never noticed. She began to nurse again, and soon it seemed like the other kit had always been there.
Swallowkit's first four moons were an ordinary kit's life, with the exception of her missing father, Jaywhisker. Until the day her mother was dragged back dead, slaughtered by a fox. Swallowkit would always look to her big brother for reassurance. However, she lost some faith in him when she thought he valued friends over family. But she continued to live her life, though growing more and more withdrawn as time went on. She felt that there was too much pity, too much happiness even though her mother had been ripped to pieces. The other warriors didn't truly care about her, she thought. Only her siblings did; despite Shrikewhisker's acts, she knew she could trust him. She had to. As an apprentice, she learned well enough, but never had a real relationship with her mentor. But the source of Swallowpaw's future problems occurred on the eve of her warrior ceremony.
"Swallowpaw!" The solid gray apprentice padded over to Spottedfoot, her mentor. "Your final assessment is today, Swallowpaw. Just catch plenty of prey, and you'll be fine." The tortoiseshell warrior grinned in what was supposed to be a reassuring way, but instead made Swallowpaw turn away from her without speaking a word. "Mouse-brain." She mumbled under breath. As if she didn't know about the assessment. She padded off into the forest, hoping to get a bit of peace before the assessment with her, Shrikepaw, and Sootpaw. She stepped along quietly, absorbed in her own thoughts. She was so absorbed she didn't notice the reek of fox in the air, or the eyes that followed her from the underbrush. It was only in the few seconds before the fox pounced she thought something might be wrong. She realized that fox scent was all around her, and began to tense into a fighting stance when with a triumphant snarl, the heavy red-furred animal was upon her. The wind was knocked out of the gray she-cat as she tumbled under the beast's huge weight. It snapped at the side of her head and she felt a torrent of blood down the side of her face. This only fueled her rage as she yanked one of her forelegs from under the fox to slash at its side. The bats howled and leaped off her. Swallowpaw jumped backwards, hissing in fear and rage. What if this was the same fox that had killed her mother? Would it kill her too? A burst of rage swept aside all thoughts as she leaped through the air to land on the fox's back, where it thrashed and clawed for what seemed forever...she felt blood wet on her back, legs, and face as she tumbled around. White spots flashed before her eyes, but she gritted her teeth in an effort to stay conscious. She raked the russet animal's side deeply and long, and it let put such a scream of pain when it shook her off and fled that she felt half-deafened. She lay there for a moment while she heard warriors come rushing towards her before unconsciousness claimed her and she knew no more.
She later woke up in the medicine cat den, with poultices plastered all over her body and almost no pain. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't dead. She padded carefully outside, then stopped with a jolt as she remembered her warrior ceremony. A gasp escaped Swallowpaw at the thought and she rushed over to Spottedfoot, who was sitting outside the warriors' den. "Spottedfoot!" She exclaimed. "I can still be a warrior, right, Spottedfoot?" Her mentor avoided her gaze. "OF course you can, Swallowpaw. I've talked with Brownstar and he decided that because of your bravery in battling the fox, you can become a warrior." Spottedfoot's tone was flat, and her amber eyes didn't meet her apprentice's. Puzzled, Swallowpaw began to open her mouth to ask a question when a small puddle nearby caught her eye. She bent over a little to look into it, and let out a yowl of remorse upon seeing her now forever scarred visage.
When ForestClan split, she decided to go with the rebels to try and start a new life. She'd lost faith in StarClan a long time ago, so she decided to join PineClan with Sootstorm and Shrikewhisker. She found it fairly easy settling in there, since there were far less ForestClan cats who would be uncomfortable around her, and new cats who get used to her more easily, she thought. She was deeply happy when she met Otterfur, loving his goofiness and loyalty to everyone in PineClan. Maybe he'd like her too, in spite of her scars. His jolliness made her feel better every time she was around him. Her love for the brown warrior made her think that maybe, just maybe, her future was bright.
Swallowpelt soon had her kits and though annoying they sometimes were, she loved them and enjoyed raising them through their kithood. The existence of her children and mate has made her somewhat more bearable. She is proud that they are now apprentices but is unhappy at the fact that she must now mentor Branchpaw, a new addition to PineClan.
We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp