Goldie

[Ten]

Name | Goldie

Gender | she-cat

Age | 7 moons

Rank | loner

Clan | none


Beliefs| Goldie had always adored the supernatural. Each butterfly's landing, every cloud and flower, any tiny detail was a sign from above; all of it meant that she was the chosen one. She knows these things.

When she got word of StarClan, she knew she had to become a Clan cat. The whole idea of starry ancestors watching over, guiding, and protecting her - it's just the sort of thing this young she-cat dreams about. In fact, as of recent, she's been claiming that she's recieving dreams from StarClan. Of course that's not true, but Goldie will try to convince you otherwise. She's sure she's special.


Parents | mother, Socks [NP] x father, unknown [NP]

Siblings | brother, Fang [NP] and sister, Flower [NP]

Other Kin | none

Mate | none

Crush | none

Kits | none

Apprentice/Mentor | none


Appearance | Goldie's tabby pelt is a vivid, attention-attracting, urine-yellow color. Her fur is soft and sleek, as well as thick - the sort of fur that retains heat and water. She has a small head and wide-spaced, drab-green eyes that often budge with excessive emotion. Her limbs are long and graceful, giving her movements a fluid look. Her tail is longer than average and is often found quivering high in the air.


Personality | As said before, she's sure she's special. She calls herself "wierd" and "crazy"; she does and says "random" things, such as poking other cats with her paw and blurting, "mouse feather cloud grass!" which she thinks is hilarious. She has no respect for anyone (she's the chosen one, remember?). She's a contrary little nitpick who will split hairs argue for the sake of arguement and laugh, in the most literal sense, in other cats' faces. Her utmost pleasure is to make others stare and she takes anything in the ballpark of "You're strange" as the highest compliment.

Now that's not to say that she handles insults well. Far from it. If criticized, or if what a cat says to her couldn't be categorized as praise, she will take extreme offense, regardless of wether the remark was anything close to an insult or not.

Let's be blunt. She's a crybaby. Sure, cats can't cry - but if they could, this one would.


Skills | Goldie thinks she's an amazing hunter and fighter.
That's because her best skill is lying to herself.

Make no mistake, she can feed herself, but only with a valiant effort - the kind she'd rather not attempt (not if she can get someone else to do it for her). When it comes to fights, she's the type to back off and, if necesssary, run.

However, from her physical composition and elegant movements, one could be fooled into thinking she's worth her salt.


History | Goldie's mother, Socks, was a soft-hearted, skittish cat with gray fur and white paws who grew up among abusive two-legs but soon took to the Ranch as her new home. There she had a litter of three with a transient tom, who never showed up again. Of the three, Goldie looked the most like her father. Her brother and sister, on the other hand, were gray. Goldie prides herself in being different, to the point of being a nuisance.

Socks tried to teach her kits a few things about hunting. However, her knowlege was limited by her upraising. Thus the family tends to resort to stealing kibble from kittypets. Due to this, Goldie's hunting skills are all but nonexistant. She has never fought a cat in her life and she's killed a mouse only once.

Goldie is beginning to tire of her family and longs for adventure - the sort of thing that stupid young cats go chasing after, until they realize the true meaning of the word and then go running home to their mommies with their tail between their legs. Goldie hasn't yet reached this realization. Once she heard about the Clans, she decided that it's her destiny to sleep under Silverpelt and become a warrior. Of course, she doesn't expect this to entail actual work.