Post by Whiskers on Feb 23, 2009 19:29:30 GMT -5
Aniela
"Ahn-Ye-La"
"I've grown older and, looking back, I see what a curious, foolish cat I was-- and I know that nothing has changed. No, if anything, age has ripened my curiousity, my stupidity, my passion. And because of that, I am grateful, for I would mourn the younger cat I was if she disappeared underneath tangled whiskers and tattered fur. What a sorry fate that would be!"~ Aniela.
Name: Aniela
Age: 58 moons
Gender: She-cat
Clan: N/A
Beliefs:
Aniela believes in the three forces, much like her granddaughter. She believes in the earth force, the sky force, the water force, and she believes in reincarnation. This helps her cope with the death of her mate, and believes that the patient, kind Henrick has been reborn as a wind spirit (in other words, has joined with the Sky force. If you are reborn as a flower or plant you join with the earth and if you are reborn as rain, hail, snow you join with water-- so this form of reincarnation isn't necessarily the most common, as you don't actually become a being.) and that he is always around her, sifting through her fur.
Family:
Father- Gregor- dead
Mother- Renna- dead
Brother- Handal- dead
Mate- Henrick- deceased
Son- Alecksy- alive (NP)
Daughter- Pooka- dead
Son- Nickalous- dead
Granddaughter- Anka or Mistystream- alive; Meadowclan warrior (DC)
Grandson- Alecksander or Reedtail- alive; Streamclan warrior (DC)
Granddaughter- Halina- alive (NP)
Granddaughter- Berta- alive (NP)
Mate/Crush: Not yet
Appearance:
"Once upon a time, oh how my mother shone with beauty! I can remember back to the days of my kit-hood, when her eyes were bright and merry with life. They were so sharp, so green, like the grassy hills of the outside world I could only stare at. It is such a sad shame what age and what life can do to the greatest, the most beautiful, of us all... now they are just green, dull and old and, true, they are wise. But I have not seen them spark for many days, though my daughter tells me I am just not looking hard enough.
And how I miss the folds of her fur, gray and white and fluffy, comforting with it's scent and touch. I would lay my head on her stomach and rest, like a housefolk would do to a pillow, and like a blanket, her fluffy tail would swoop over my body to keep me warm. It was so thick-- and still so!-- that it is no wonder our housefolk never let her out, as twigs would cling to her stomach like we kits did when we were young. I wish I inherited her marvolous fur-- a dark stormy gray from her head to her tail, and soft downy white on her belly-- but I am just a meek silver, a shadow to the majestic gray on my mother's skin.
And when she walked, she walked with pride! Now she hobbles on broken pads and a bad hip, a jerk in her hindleg, a wince on her muzzle. But never in her eyes... no, never in those soft plains of green... my mother would never let her weakness show in her eyes.
"Windows to your soul, love," she says. "Keep them shut."
Once upon a time, my mother was beautiful... and alas, now it isn't so."
~Alecksy, son of Aniela
Personality:
"Aniela was always a proud, proud, proud, proud cat! Even when she was but a wee lass, she held tight to her own beliefs as if they were solid things that she could play around with, keeping them above anything and anyone else. I remember meeting her, the very first time, both of us mere kittens-- I, of course, was smitten with the lovely she-cat. She had other plans for me.
"When we are older, we should have kittens, Ani. You and I would make beautiful kittens."
With a head tilted upward, toward the sky, she barely looked my way as she meowed, "You will have to prove yourself to me, Henrick. You'll have to win my heart-- it is not something I will just give to you."
She baffled me and continued to baffle me as we grew closer and closer. Not only was she proud, but she was witty, cunning-- moreso like a fox than a cat and she got many a delight from making me look like an utter fool. She still, to this day, enjoys a joke, though not as much when she is in the middle of it. (Not that she ever is, most cats wouldn't dare to do such a thing, lest they wish to lose their tails!)
Aniela, as a kit, was brave, careless, spoiled-- but her haughty attitude melted with age as wisdom came upon her, bit by bit. She soon learned how to be kind to me and to others, though still I see her hesitate before using a comforting tone. She fears weakness, I presume, and sees being kind to other as weakness. I'm only glad that she let all defenses fall for me. She is still stubborn. Her beliefs are the right ones, she says. Her traditions bind her to the earth, she says.
I watched her grow, and as she did, she grew mournful for days past and for the kitten she used to be.
"Oh, Henrick, how I long for the days of old, where I could run around and not worry about the consequences!"
And for a while, as she aged, she feared it. But it was not death, as she told me from her very own mouth, that she feared: It was forgetting how to act young, forgetting how to live properly as young cats are so good at.
Curiousity and bravery never left her, though it was not obvious to her. It had taken on a quiet form and it stirs, still, in her heart. And when she hears of faint-whispered rumors, the curiousity sparks and she simply has to check it out. She fears acting like an old elderly feline, but it is then, when she is chasing a rumor or hunting a secret, when she is just as kitten-like and excited as moons before.
And because of her bravery and cunning and cruelness-- because of her honor, her tradition, her stubbornness-- I loved her with my whole heart and thank God I loved her 'till the day I died!"
~Henrick, deceased mate of Aniela
Skills:
Aniela is old. She is not really good at much.
She is a good enough hunter to feed herself and herself only. But her fighting skills are lacking as her speed and her strength dwindle as the days pass by. It is only her mind that remains sharp and Aniela might be able to outthink her enemey. If a fight gets physical though, Aniela is out of luck.
She has learned much about herbs because of her journey but it is unknown if she'll take the spot of medicine cat-- especially as she doesn't believe in Starclan and probably never will.
Histoy:
Aniela was born a kittypet in a quaint little Suburbian neighborhood with a few siblings, though none of them close enough for Aniela to think of today. She was kept by the couple while the others sold. It was just her mother, her father, and herself-- and the cat next door, a silver tom named Henrick.
"Aniela, one day, Henrick will be your mate," Renna told her daughter. "It's been arranged." And true, it was, by the housefolk and by her very own mother, who thought love to be quaint and silly. A she-cat's work was to have healthy kits and to raise them, to instill knowledge and nobleness into them.
Aniela, being proud and independent, did not like this. So she decided to hate Henrick and her parents.
But she and Henrick would sit on their lawns and stare at each other, sometimes talking for hours, other times staying extremely silent. Henrick pursued her, though Aniela told him and over and over that he was not good enough for her and never would be.
"You are a stupid, stupid tom," she told Henrick.
"And you are a lovely, lovely she-cat," he replied.
Aniela was stumped as to why he would love her when she was going out of her way to hurt him. Finally, she asked one day:
"Why, Henrick?" Aniela demanded. "Why do you love me? I have been so cruel to you."
"It is because of that, you see-- your independence, your pride. I am in awe of what a strong she-cat you are and only hope that one day you can love me the best you can."
"And what if I cannot? What if I am so hard that my heart is made of ice?"
"Then I shall sit here and wait until it melts."
And it did, then and there, and Aniela found she was in love with the patient, handsome tom all along. They had kittens that very spring: Pooka, Nickalous, and Alecksy. As long as Henrick was by her, she was a good mother, stern but loving. All was well, for many moons... but then Henrick died of sickness.
"Listen to me, lovely Ani of mine... do not mourn. It has been said before, I know. But if your heart freezes up again, I do not think I could stand it and I would die twice," Henrick murmured. "I expect you to live for me too, Aniela."
"For you, dear Henrick," Aniela uttered quietly. "Always for you."
"And promise me you'll love again."
"Never! My heart beats and breathes for one tom only and you are him."
Henrick smiled, shook his head, and closed his eyes. "Just be happy and never falter in your happiness... stay young and fierce...as only my Aniela can be..." The tom passed away with those final words and Aniela's heart quivered in her chest. It was not until her housefolk brought a younger cat home for her son to mate with did she dare to let it beat-- especially when she gazed at her grandchildren, and saw Henrick staring back at her in the form of little Anka and Alecksander, who had both managed to look like him in their own ways-- Anka with her fur and Alecksander with his shape and eyes.
It wasn't long until she seized the chance to sweep Anka and Alecksander away (for more housefolk were coming and she couldn't lose the two kittens to them) by leading them out of the house. She headed, with them, in the direction of the clans. She soon grew to love them for who they were and not for the tom they took after. But a pack of dogs separated them and Aniela was alone.
Her age caused her to take many rests, her health faltered many times. But she journeys on. She lives for Henrick and for her two grandchildren and a future with the clans.
Still, she is traveling-- but she grows closer every day.
[/size]"Ahn-Ye-La"
"I've grown older and, looking back, I see what a curious, foolish cat I was-- and I know that nothing has changed. No, if anything, age has ripened my curiousity, my stupidity, my passion. And because of that, I am grateful, for I would mourn the younger cat I was if she disappeared underneath tangled whiskers and tattered fur. What a sorry fate that would be!"~ Aniela.
Name: Aniela
Age: 58 moons
Gender: She-cat
Clan: N/A
Beliefs:
Aniela believes in the three forces, much like her granddaughter. She believes in the earth force, the sky force, the water force, and she believes in reincarnation. This helps her cope with the death of her mate, and believes that the patient, kind Henrick has been reborn as a wind spirit (in other words, has joined with the Sky force. If you are reborn as a flower or plant you join with the earth and if you are reborn as rain, hail, snow you join with water-- so this form of reincarnation isn't necessarily the most common, as you don't actually become a being.) and that he is always around her, sifting through her fur.
Family:
Father- Gregor- dead
Mother- Renna- dead
Brother- Handal- dead
Mate- Henrick- deceased
Son- Alecksy- alive (NP)
Daughter- Pooka- dead
Son- Nickalous- dead
Granddaughter- Anka or Mistystream- alive; Meadowclan warrior (DC)
Grandson- Alecksander or Reedtail- alive; Streamclan warrior (DC)
Granddaughter- Halina- alive (NP)
Granddaughter- Berta- alive (NP)
Mate/Crush: Not yet
Appearance:
"Once upon a time, oh how my mother shone with beauty! I can remember back to the days of my kit-hood, when her eyes were bright and merry with life. They were so sharp, so green, like the grassy hills of the outside world I could only stare at. It is such a sad shame what age and what life can do to the greatest, the most beautiful, of us all... now they are just green, dull and old and, true, they are wise. But I have not seen them spark for many days, though my daughter tells me I am just not looking hard enough.
And how I miss the folds of her fur, gray and white and fluffy, comforting with it's scent and touch. I would lay my head on her stomach and rest, like a housefolk would do to a pillow, and like a blanket, her fluffy tail would swoop over my body to keep me warm. It was so thick-- and still so!-- that it is no wonder our housefolk never let her out, as twigs would cling to her stomach like we kits did when we were young. I wish I inherited her marvolous fur-- a dark stormy gray from her head to her tail, and soft downy white on her belly-- but I am just a meek silver, a shadow to the majestic gray on my mother's skin.
And when she walked, she walked with pride! Now she hobbles on broken pads and a bad hip, a jerk in her hindleg, a wince on her muzzle. But never in her eyes... no, never in those soft plains of green... my mother would never let her weakness show in her eyes.
"Windows to your soul, love," she says. "Keep them shut."
Once upon a time, my mother was beautiful... and alas, now it isn't so."
~Alecksy, son of Aniela
Personality:
"Aniela was always a proud, proud, proud, proud cat! Even when she was but a wee lass, she held tight to her own beliefs as if they were solid things that she could play around with, keeping them above anything and anyone else. I remember meeting her, the very first time, both of us mere kittens-- I, of course, was smitten with the lovely she-cat. She had other plans for me.
"When we are older, we should have kittens, Ani. You and I would make beautiful kittens."
With a head tilted upward, toward the sky, she barely looked my way as she meowed, "You will have to prove yourself to me, Henrick. You'll have to win my heart-- it is not something I will just give to you."
She baffled me and continued to baffle me as we grew closer and closer. Not only was she proud, but she was witty, cunning-- moreso like a fox than a cat and she got many a delight from making me look like an utter fool. She still, to this day, enjoys a joke, though not as much when she is in the middle of it. (Not that she ever is, most cats wouldn't dare to do such a thing, lest they wish to lose their tails!)
Aniela, as a kit, was brave, careless, spoiled-- but her haughty attitude melted with age as wisdom came upon her, bit by bit. She soon learned how to be kind to me and to others, though still I see her hesitate before using a comforting tone. She fears weakness, I presume, and sees being kind to other as weakness. I'm only glad that she let all defenses fall for me. She is still stubborn. Her beliefs are the right ones, she says. Her traditions bind her to the earth, she says.
I watched her grow, and as she did, she grew mournful for days past and for the kitten she used to be.
"Oh, Henrick, how I long for the days of old, where I could run around and not worry about the consequences!"
And for a while, as she aged, she feared it. But it was not death, as she told me from her very own mouth, that she feared: It was forgetting how to act young, forgetting how to live properly as young cats are so good at.
Curiousity and bravery never left her, though it was not obvious to her. It had taken on a quiet form and it stirs, still, in her heart. And when she hears of faint-whispered rumors, the curiousity sparks and she simply has to check it out. She fears acting like an old elderly feline, but it is then, when she is chasing a rumor or hunting a secret, when she is just as kitten-like and excited as moons before.
And because of her bravery and cunning and cruelness-- because of her honor, her tradition, her stubbornness-- I loved her with my whole heart and thank God I loved her 'till the day I died!"
~Henrick, deceased mate of Aniela
Skills:
Aniela is old. She is not really good at much.
She is a good enough hunter to feed herself and herself only. But her fighting skills are lacking as her speed and her strength dwindle as the days pass by. It is only her mind that remains sharp and Aniela might be able to outthink her enemey. If a fight gets physical though, Aniela is out of luck.
She has learned much about herbs because of her journey but it is unknown if she'll take the spot of medicine cat-- especially as she doesn't believe in Starclan and probably never will.
Histoy:
Aniela was born a kittypet in a quaint little Suburbian neighborhood with a few siblings, though none of them close enough for Aniela to think of today. She was kept by the couple while the others sold. It was just her mother, her father, and herself-- and the cat next door, a silver tom named Henrick.
"Aniela, one day, Henrick will be your mate," Renna told her daughter. "It's been arranged." And true, it was, by the housefolk and by her very own mother, who thought love to be quaint and silly. A she-cat's work was to have healthy kits and to raise them, to instill knowledge and nobleness into them.
Aniela, being proud and independent, did not like this. So she decided to hate Henrick and her parents.
But she and Henrick would sit on their lawns and stare at each other, sometimes talking for hours, other times staying extremely silent. Henrick pursued her, though Aniela told him and over and over that he was not good enough for her and never would be.
"You are a stupid, stupid tom," she told Henrick.
"And you are a lovely, lovely she-cat," he replied.
Aniela was stumped as to why he would love her when she was going out of her way to hurt him. Finally, she asked one day:
"Why, Henrick?" Aniela demanded. "Why do you love me? I have been so cruel to you."
"It is because of that, you see-- your independence, your pride. I am in awe of what a strong she-cat you are and only hope that one day you can love me the best you can."
"And what if I cannot? What if I am so hard that my heart is made of ice?"
"Then I shall sit here and wait until it melts."
And it did, then and there, and Aniela found she was in love with the patient, handsome tom all along. They had kittens that very spring: Pooka, Nickalous, and Alecksy. As long as Henrick was by her, she was a good mother, stern but loving. All was well, for many moons... but then Henrick died of sickness.
"Listen to me, lovely Ani of mine... do not mourn. It has been said before, I know. But if your heart freezes up again, I do not think I could stand it and I would die twice," Henrick murmured. "I expect you to live for me too, Aniela."
"For you, dear Henrick," Aniela uttered quietly. "Always for you."
"And promise me you'll love again."
"Never! My heart beats and breathes for one tom only and you are him."
Henrick smiled, shook his head, and closed his eyes. "Just be happy and never falter in your happiness... stay young and fierce...as only my Aniela can be..." The tom passed away with those final words and Aniela's heart quivered in her chest. It was not until her housefolk brought a younger cat home for her son to mate with did she dare to let it beat-- especially when she gazed at her grandchildren, and saw Henrick staring back at her in the form of little Anka and Alecksander, who had both managed to look like him in their own ways-- Anka with her fur and Alecksander with his shape and eyes.
It wasn't long until she seized the chance to sweep Anka and Alecksander away (for more housefolk were coming and she couldn't lose the two kittens to them) by leading them out of the house. She headed, with them, in the direction of the clans. She soon grew to love them for who they were and not for the tom they took after. But a pack of dogs separated them and Aniela was alone.
Her age caused her to take many rests, her health faltered many times. But she journeys on. She lives for Henrick and for her two grandchildren and a future with the clans.
Still, she is traveling-- but she grows closer every day.
We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp