graypaw.

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[ g r a y p a w ]

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NAME: Graypaw
GENDER: Tom
AGE: 9 moons
RANK: Apprentice
CLAN: FogClan

BELIEFS:

Graypaw believes, with all his heart, in StarClan. He was told that when his mother and brother died, they became stars in the sky, and he believed that. The Clans told him the same thing about when cats die, so he knew that he had to follow the ways of StarClan so he could join his family up there one day. He doesn't let what anyone says affect his faith in StarClan. He clings to that faith. It's all he really has.

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PARENTS: Thorn [father, np]
& "Mama" [mother, np]
SIBLINGS: Lenny [brother, np]
OTHER KIN: None
MATE: Not yet
CRUSH: Not yet
KITS: Not yet
MENTOR: Silverflower

APPEARANCE:

Graypaw has an unusual build for a FogClan cat. Most cats in his Clan are big and muscular, while he is taller and thinner. He would be better suited for life in the meadows, with his long legs and tail, good for balance. The tom has little muscle on him and an unhealthy look all about him. He appears to be very fragile and looks as if the slightest breeze would snap him in half with the way his bones and ribs stick out. He has narrow shoulders and a narrow facial structure, almost like that of a foreign cat.

Every inch of Graypaw's pelt, if it wasn't obvious, is a dark, smokey gray. It's short, yet is thick and matted and knotted all throughout due to lack of good grooming. Faint scars cover most of his body. His fur doesn't have any sheen and is not very pleasant to look at. His eyes... they are something to look at. They're almond-shaped and the color of sweet honey. While also dull, they could pierce a hole right through you if Graypaw tried. He has long, white whiskers that sprout from his muzzle. His nose is a shade darker gray than his fur and has a nasty-looking scar on the bridge.

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PERSONALITY:
Graypaw is, put simply, depressed and very pessimistic. He's always been a generally sad cat, but his father's abuse combined with the deaths of his mother and brother really pushed him over the edge. He doesn't really see the bright side in anything. He figures, "Why bother? We're all gonna die anyway." He doesn't really take care of himself, either. Graypaw eats just enough to keep on living, and grooms his pelt probably once in a blue moon.

He doesn't really like staying in one place for awhile, but also doesn't like putting a lot of effort into things. It may make him seem lazy, and that's pretty true. He dislikes following orders, but does it anyway. He doesn't want to risk getting kicked out of the Clan and having no where to go. This is why he sticks to the warrior code as well. He doesn't see any real reason to break it anyway.

Graypaw's the kind of cat that just goes with the flow. He will let cats do whatever they want or believe whatever they want just so long as it doesn't affect him. He doesn't think much of the way the Clans are run, but stays there anyway because it's a step up from his old life, and he can get closer to StarClan.

Graypaw is also a compulsive liar. His father forced him to lie to other cats they met about why he had so many scars on him, so the behavior just kind of stuck. He'll also lie just to get someone to leave him alone if they really bug him.

Graypaw may seem like an antisocial cat, but he's not. He'll go up and talk to a cat if he really feels like it, but he just prefers not to talk much. He hates cats that only know how to talk. They never shut up, and it bugs him. Sometimes Graypaw conveys what he's trying to say through movements and signals instead of words, which can get confusing. He's also a very emotional cat. Most little things cats say offend him, even if it was unintentional. He won't come out and say he's upset, but he will be.

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SKILLS:
Graypaw is a great tracker. It's just natural to him, and one of the only things he's skilled at. With his long legs and narrow body, he can climb up and down trees with ease. He got plenty of practice with this; it's the only place he could think to hide from his father as a kitten.

HISTORY:
Graypaw, born Alex, was the runt of the litter. He was notably smaller than his brother, Lenny. They lived on the outskirts of a town, in the nearby forest. Other cats didn't bother them much. His parents lived wherever they stopped for the night, but that stopped when Alex was born. His mother, whom he just called "Mama", loved him dearly, as a mother should, but his father was another story. He wanted nothing less than perfect kits that would then grow up to be perfect fighters. Obviously, Alex was not at all like the kits he had imagined, and therefore his father hated him for it. However, he adored Lenny.

When Alex and his brother were only about three moons old, Thorn took them out for battle practice while their mother hunted for food. He was way too hard on them, trying to teach them things that only the most-skilled cats could do. Alex got sick of it, and refused to cooperate. His father ordered him again to do as he said, and Alex continued to ignore him. He turned away and said he was going to hunt with his mom instead. Overcome with anger for his disobedient and imperfect son, Thorn attacked the kitten, sending Alex tumbling down the small, rocky cliff he was on. The kitten smashed into the bushes at the bottom and lay there for a while, shocked and in pain. His father left him there, figuring he'd taught him his lesson. Lenny asked where his brother had gone, and Thorn responded, "Oh, he went to find your mother. You'll see him later." Then they continued on with the lesson.

Afterwards, Thorn sent Lenny off back home and went to check on Alex, who was still laying at the bottom of the hill. As his father approached him, Alex hastily stood up and backed away, wincing from his cuts. "Why did you do that, Dad?" he mewed, his voice breaking. His dad stared at him, his expression emotionless. "It taught you to listen to what I say, did it not?" he said. Alex shook his head and backed up more. "N-no, sir," he mewed. He was near a thorn bush now and couldn't back up anymore. His father glared at him. "Oh, it didn't?" he hissed, his voice like ice, "Well then..." He approached his son. After that, Alex isn't sure what happened. He just knew there was pain. Lots of pain. He woke up in his nest early the next morning. His body stung all over, and he could feel where there was a big gash on his nose. He heard his parents whispering nearby so he stayed still to listen.
"What happened to my son, Thorn?" he heard his mother demand.
"He got tangled in a thorn bush while we were training. I tried to help him out, but the stupid thing just got himself all tangled up."
"My son is not stupid. He could have died, don't you get that?"
"No he wouldn't have. It was just-"
"That's not what happened!" Alex shouted from the entrance of the den. He saw his father tense. His mother's eyes lit up and she ran over to him. "Alex! You're awake! Tell me what happened," she meowed, her voice tart with worry. "I... I'm not really sure," he mewed, and passed out again.

The next day, or at least that's what time Alex thought it was, his mother went out hunting with Lenny. They went hunting near the edge of the forest where there was also a Thunderpath that separated the forest from the city. Lenny got too close and without thinking, wandered onto it. His mother panicked. She raced onto the Thunderpath, so worried about her son's safety and getting him away from there that by the time she heard the monster, it was too late. Both of them were instantly crushed to death.

The news got back to Alex when he woke up later that evening. His father told him what happened. He was stricken with grief and despair. He almost didn't know what to do with himself. The only thing he could figure is that now, his mother and brother had become stars in the sky. He'd heard it somewhere, and he believed it. On the other hand, Alex was also scared at the same time. What would happen now? He didn't want to stay with his abusive father, but at the same time knew that if he tried to leave there were foxes, badgers, and bad cats out there. He decided to stay, but his father's abuse continued whenever Alex didn't obey his stupid orders. He was absolutely miserable. It stayed with him, the abuse scarred his mind, and he became an empty shell of his old self. Now he didn't say much, if anything at all. He ate only to stay alive, and couldn't be bothered to groom his pelt. This greatly angered his father; if he wouldn't eat, he couldn't grow up to be strong like him, and an ungroomed pelt didn't say much for a cat. He tried force-feeding him once, but somehow Alex slipped away, and he gave up on that.

When Alex was about seven moons, his father told him to gather up some prey, and Alex did as he said just to get away from him. Around mid-day, it was blazing hot and he got bored of hunting. He curled up under a tree for a quick nap, and was woken up by the noise of many cats. Confused, he went to investigate. Soon, more cats than Alex had ever seen before came into view. They spotted him, told him what they were there for, and Alex eagerly jumped at the chance to join them and get away from his dad. But, the damage his father had caused was already done.

One of the cats in the group, a tiny she-cat, told him of a place called StarClan and how cats that have passed lived in the stars in Silverpelt. Alex instantly knew that that's where his mother and brother must have gone. He devoted his life to this starry Clan; it was the only thing that could keep him sane now. He decided to join FogClan, where he knew that his faith would be shared with the cats there. He was renamed Graypaw for, obviously, his gray fur, and became an apprentice of FogClan.
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