Post by Slug on Feb 4, 2010 0:24:22 GMT -5
It's not revenge.
It's justice!
Name:
Gender: Tom
Age: Thirty-five moons
Rank: Warrior
Clan: Pine
Beliefs: Bluefur doesn't believe in Starclan because he was mostly a rogue all his life. His father never spoke of dead cats controlling fate and life, though he did talk of the afterlife, and how it would be a beautiful place full of divine scenery and perfect harmony to go to when you died. After all, nobody wants to be in the oblivion for the rest of their soul's eternity!
Parents: Leif (Father) x
(Mother Unknown)Siblings: None
Other Kin: None
Mate: None yet
Crush: None yet
Kits: None yet
Apprentice/Mentor: None yet
Appearance: Long, lean legs with large paws hold up Bluefur's muscular build, which keeps it's balance with very lengthy and poofy tail. With this muscular build comes broad shoulders and hips, along with a burly chest and slightly thick neck.
Bluefur's head is big, but it fits his big body, so nothing seems out of proportion. His forehead is wide, his cheeks like a chipmunk's, and a rectangular maw full of yellowed fangs. His ears are medium sized, his whiskers short and firm while his nose is a blue and his eyes are pale yellow.
His pelt is a gorgeous bluish color, fluffy and thick to boot. There is one, tiny white dash on his chest, but that's it. Sadly, there are also some small places where fur does not grow, those places littered with angry red, or shiny silver scars that are from the rogues that punished Bluefur when he was younger.
Personality: Bluefur has a lot of anger inside him, because of the fact he has never dished out 'justice' to the cats who murdered his father, giving him one helluvatemper. He's an easy-to-irritate tom, and usually takes his frustration out on others, either it be by simply insulting them, or an all-out-brawl, you best tread carefully, little reader, because once Bluefur is angry, you better start running fast.
There are times where Bluefur is nice. Er, sorta. He's a lot more easier to be around with when he's in a 'good' mood, where Bluefur is usually sarcastic and grumpy, though at least he isn't chewing you out for something you most likely didn't do. Personally, I don't really see a difference between Bluefur's bad and good mood. Maybe you do.
But there is more to this angry, violent cat than meets the eye. Deep down, Bluefur is hurting. He's hurting because of the loss of his father. It truly, honest-to-Starclan hurt him to watch his father be slaughtered by a group of rogues. He can't forget the fact that he never avenged his father, either, and so he aches-- aches for the day that someone will understand him, and see past his bitter mask.
Because if anyone truly cared about him, maybe they would fight fang-and-claw to figure out what the blazes made him this way. That's another reason why he acts angry, and violent. He just wants someone to care. But no one ever does, and Bluefur doesn't think anyone ever will.
But he's not going to give up that easily, despite the fact that his angry attitude is more or less pushing his Clanmates away instead of making them worried for him. And, speaking of Clanmates, Bluefur, despite his belief in the afterlife, holds a incredible amount of respect for the non-believers that are PineClan.
They gave him a purpose-- a reason to keep moving forward, even when he had realized how terrible the world really is. But he's still too full of grief and anger to take that step. Yes, he's loyal to PineClan-- he's just a little bit too much of an emotional mess to truly carry out his new purpose.
But let it be known that even the darkest, dirtiest of coals can still become a diamond.
Skills: Bluefur is a powerful, but slow fighter. He can easily knock a cat flat on their hide with one blow-- if he can hit them, that is. Due to his weight (he's a big, muscular tom, after all), Bluefur is slow on the battlefield, though that doesn't mean you should underestimate him. As for hunting, Bluefur is a skilled hunter, and can easily catch up to two-to-three voles per day, though in Leaf-Bare, food is lacking, so Bluefur can probably only catch one squirrel, if he's lucky.
History: Urik was taken from his mother at a young age by his father, Leif. Urik, however, knew nothing or his mother, nor the fact that he was taken. His father simply told him 'she left' and Urik left it at that, but is still curious of his mother's whereabouts to this day.
Leif cared for Urik as much as he taught him. He wasn't training him-- not yet. He was simply telling Urik the basics, using himself as an example for hunting skills. Urik, at his young age, barely understood a word or action, though was slowly learning. At five moons, Urik was a walking dictionary, able to remember each and every one of his father's skills. Proud, Leif moved on to actual training, urging his son to become a good hunter.
"Those who walk away from battle are the ones most likely to live a longer life than others." Leif had told his son.
Urik, eager to please his father, trained hard. He hunted as best he could, learning more and more along the way, soaking up the knowledge like a sponge would water. Unfortunately, because of the fact his father only taught him hunting techniques, Urik was greatly lacking in the battle department.
And that had been Leif's blunder, for he, too, knew barely little to nothing about fighting, which had cost him his life.
Because one day, when Urik and Leif were passing through a forest, a group of rogues appeared and surrounded them, snarling and hissing at the trespassers. Leif, worried for his son's safety, tried talking the angry felines out of their hostile haze.
His words did nothing to stop the rogues from slaughtering him, much to little, seven moon old Urik's horror. However, what seemed to put the cherry on the top was Leif's dying words.
"I... am not... your father. Forgive me."
Urik forgave him.
But he did not, however, forgive the rogues, who decided to kitnap the young tom and train them as their own. Their training was brutal, and painful, and whenever Urik tried escaping from the rogues, he would be punished.
Severely.
After four moons of discipline and bloody training, Urik finally was let free by a rogue who took pity on him. Urik, grudgingly thankful for the she-cat's choice, fled from the rogue's forest, though vowed to return once he was strong enough...
And then kill them all.
He stumbled upon another group of cats, however. A group that called themselves 'The Fang'. They too pitied the young Urik, and took him in and trained him, and from there on, Urik knew that his vow would come true.
Once he felt that he was strong enough, Urik left 'The Fang' at seventeen moons, intent on killing the rogues that had done him wrong. However, once reaching the rogue's forest...
He soon found out that the rogues had already been killed.
Angered, he set out to find the one who had killed the rogues, bound and determined that if he couldn't kill them, then he would most certainly kill the cat who had!
"It's not revenge. It's justice." He had whispered to himself at the sight of the dead rogues, then followed the scent of what seemed to be the cat who had made the massacre.
Many moons went by, how many, Urik did not care to keep track, though to save us the misery, I will tell you that he was approximately twenty-eightish moons old when he found the cat behind the rogues' deaths.
And it turned out to be the she-cat from so long ago. He was ashamed that he had not remembered her, but no matter. Urik would kill her, for she was, after all, one of the rogues who had murdered Leif.
Urik couldn't bring himself to do it.
The she-cat had looked... so sad. So pathetic. It was bitter irony that he, Urik, too pity on her and left her be to wallow in her own misery. It was a fate worse than death, in Urik's opinion, and... his father wouldn't have wanted it. Was Leif proud of him, wherever he was? Was he proud that he had done just like he had said all those moons ago?
"Those who walk away from battle are the ones most likely to live a longer life than others..."
And so he would.
Urik traveled, wandering aimlessly through the world. He had been so full of hate... but now, he was not. He barely had any energy to go on, now that he had no purpose. No mission or goal. That had been destroyed by the she-cat, though it had been still salvageable. Urik didn't know if he should have sobbed or laughed that he had been the one to ruin his vow. There was one rogue left, yes...
But all that mattered was that his father was proud.
Moons passed, and Urik stumbled upon a group-- a group so eerily similar to 'The Fang', that he almost thought it was them at first, but their yowls of "This is PineClan's territory, you piece of foxdung!". Oh, yes. That had been an amusing situation.
However, after managing to coax the 'PineClanners' out of their hostile haze (unlike his father), Urik urged them to tell him of what this PineClan was all about.
To say the least, he had not been disappointed.
Intrigued, Urik boldly asked if he could join, and he was startled by the unexpected answer one gave him.
"Yes."
However, there was just one condition... he had to face their leader, for the leader would truly decide if he could join PineClan. With a new purpose, Urik followed the 'patrol' to their camp, head high and strides proud as he found himself among the PineClanners. He would not be deterred, now. Not after going so long without a mission-- a reason.
Meeting PineClan's leader had been more pleasant than Urik had expected.
Accepted into PineClan after a talk with Gingerstar and being tested on his skills, Urik became Bluefur, a warrior of PineClan. He has been a PineClanner for barely four moons, and is still adjusting to their ways, but nonetheless, he had a purpose, now. An actual purpose, and that was serving his new home.
Leif would have been proud.
Nothing big, I assure you... but since you're of a high skill level already, I'll be a tad picky.