ROLEPLAYiNG COMPETiTiON !

[The Hosts]

This is for you to test your roleplaying skills against others. To better understand your cat and judge your roleplay, we're going to need you to fill out addition things other than just the simple roleplay. The form;

Cat's Name:
Cat's Rank: (Clan rank or loner/rogue)
Cat's Age:
Personality:
Description:
History:
Roleplay:

Good luck to you all!

[Tangle]

Cat's Name: Shademask
Cat's Rank: Warrior Of ThunderClan
Cat's Age: 18 moons
Personality: In short- He's a good tempterd tom with a easy to react and hurt you, personality.
Description: A tabby brown tom with white paws, icey blue eyes and a black ivy shaped mask on his face.
History: Born and raised in Thunderclan. His mother was from Thunderclan his father was from WindClan.
( that is all very short. This role-play will be long)

Roleplay:

A flash of dark brown tabby fur let the prey round know it was being stalked. Stalked by it's pretator. A slim grin brought the tom's lips to his eyes. Closing his eyes the tom picture his prey, slowly eatting it's food. Licking his jaws the tom opened his eyes. His breathing slowed slightly and he stalked forwards. His jaws parted and his mouth began to water as he drew closer. His ears flinched at every sound. His nose winkled at the smell to his right. He guessed it was fox, about a day ago, it had passed. A slightly smile broke his face as the wind ruffled threw him. His fur pushed against his skin. The smell of mouse so strong that he leapted a few feet to early. Missing the mouse by three mouse-whiskers. But the mouse wasn't lucky. The tom snatched it and killed it with his long teeth.

A sudden rush of breath down his back let him know he wasn't alone. A she-cat with long ginger fur and beautiful green eyes sat beside him. "Shademask, what is wrong?" The she-cat said in a honey like voice. The tom frowned slightly his eyes wide. His name was Shademask, thank Starclan his friend, the she-cat, his leader, had changed it to Shademask, rather than kept it Silenttongue. The she-cat frowned as well and meowed. "Comeon, speak to me threw your eyes Shademask. You can tell me, Featherstar, your leader, friend, anything!" But it didn't happen that way. Shademask frowned. His eyes slowly turned to the brushes that rumbled.


"I know Shademask. Were not alone." Featherstar meowed, her green eyes wide in terror. Thats when it attacked.

[Starheart]

Wait do we just create the cat here or show our roleplay here? If just plainly creating the cat -

Cat's Name: Starheart

Cat's Rank: Queen for now...

Cat's Age: 25 moons

Personality: Her sweet and loving attitude can bring any cat joy. Her warming heart, great beauty, sweet scent, chorus voice, and a perfect mom. Her mind is unknown but is wise for a cat her age. Love was shattered terribly, mind can seem torn.

Description: Soul white she-cat with astonishing beauty and crystal yet royal blue eyes. Sparkling eyes complimented by a pink, soft, and moist nose. Her soft silky short fur has deep blue tips and she runs along with blue stripes of a tabby. Her tail is fluffy and soft, with stripes breaking it's white surface. Left eye covered with long hair with blue outline. NOTHING knows what hides under that eye...

History: (Making it short.) She was a growing up she-cat not knowing her birthplace, mother, or how she grew up. All she knew was Blood Versus Soul. Nothing, not even I know how she grew up, but we all know she's not original. Falling quickly in love with Grey, she's just a young loner. Something big, bloody and horrifying attacked. Pools of blood left behind, she gave birth in a fox-den while watching these beasts eat him whole and solid. Heart break throbbed her chest as she saw her 8 kits. What happened next? (In the Cat version -) she joins an un-named clan. Thus ringing 8 great and powerful warriors to them as they grow up.

Roleplay:

Heart pounding, breaking her ribcage, her icey white paws marked with blue leap in front of her, and shock was stabbing her pelt. Frantically she looks around but all she can scent is blood, taste is blood, see black, hear dripping of a blood whirlpool. Something breaks her free, a pain killing her. She ran and slid deep into a pit, that seemed to be a fox-den, and it was. Long ways abandoned, but blood seeped from her. She watched out the entrance with final movements.

Suddenly a grey bounding creature was lightning through, and these two-leg tall and huge beasts stood there. Glowing bright flaming eyes, long saber-tooth fang set, jutting up and a set down. Long black sharp claws deeply encrusted in blood. Thick blood-red fur hidden with black shadows. Their mouths dripping with fresh blood, they dreaded for more. These creatures, standing there knew who she was, why she's different and why they need to kill her and the kits.

The greatly muscled grey cat needed to protect them, and fast. He wildly shot after the one in the middle, wildly scratching and clawing deep into it's face. Sad thing the she-cat saw next. That beast did nothing, raised a paw, opened a claw, and sliced the head clear off. Hitting the ground with a stunned face and limp falling body. Before it could move downward toward gravity the beast ate it whole. Licking it's face clean, it slammed the head towards the she-cat.

However she was bloody, holding 8 kits at her stomach, panting hard, with what she thought was her last breaths. She gazed at the head starring at the beasts as their soul-piercing gaze burned but didn't touch her soul and neither did hers to it. A demoniac voice rang from the shadows calling out to her saying "Either give us the kit's or you."

She hissed now knowing something she didn't before, these kits are important, and NEED to live. "You can have their kits, and me after their kits are in your possession," her sweet voice was scratched with nuetral emotions. Her love was hard, yet she still could be sweet.

The maniac laughter called, ringing through each shadow. "Foolish mortal you, has forgotten hasn't she now? Fine then! It'll be my honor!" aand just then the night time black flames shot through the ground and regular flames encircled them. Engulfing them whole they disappeared but yet the pools of blood they made stayed there.

She lay there, cold and tired. She encircled her kits and fell into sleep felling the snow break from the clouds, over freezing her den, yet she stayed warm. The kits wiggled and wormed around, all 8 then fell deeply into dreamland. Their breathing, all 9 of them, made a lovely chorus, and the wind whistled along with them, soundly like pure beauty.

Kinda short, I know, but we are just creating the cats, right?

_{(c) Kizzy Kat Rights, no coping what so ever, looks, ideas, NOTHING.}

[smalleh]

Cat's Name:
Midnighthowl.

Cat's Rank:
Warrior.

Cat's Age:
Thirty six moons.

Personality:

I bow to no one. Midnight is as if there are no other cats to disturb her ‘soft’ existence. She has never once been bothered by the Clans, or their territories that they’ve marked due to the way they live. She’s never settled in one place, not since then, but she’s stayed well away from the Clans as young as she is. She doesn’t have a home and she’s never been comfortable trying to take over any specific vacant stretch of turf, it just doesn’t feel right to her. She can shed no pride for where she lives, and with that, not a single ounce of loyalty to the brush and sheds she takes refuge inside. Basically, she could care less for where she lives. As long as at each spawn of a sun, she still bears her life.

Come closer, friend I'm not finished with you! Are there any friends out there for her in the first place? As cold and secluded as she is, why would anyone bother to make friends with her? Midnight the unfeeling, desolate and remote she-cat whose life was stripped away so mercilessly? She desires no ‘friends’ to enter her morbid and isolated world, the one she lives in every day of her life. However, if the circumstances had been different, she guesses she would be nice, in a way; and also filled with sweet, fresh, irony and sarcasm. Who would care to befriend her, anyway? There are more than enough Loners, Rogues, and Kittypets around here to make up an ocean of friends for someone else, they don’t need her. She’s not like them, as she feels. Nobody would ever understand her from her position, nobody could ever walk a mile in her shoes , not on this d**ned planet.

Do you hear my marking words, swine ? Those names are of the d**ned! d**nED! Midnight was the savior, the gift of life to her mother, but what did such a she-cat see her mother as? She loved her family, so dearly did she hold them, so closely. She was sweet to her mother and a darling to her father; she even was friendly to her only sibling, her brother, Twig. She would do anything for them, die for them, kill for them, and kill them to save themselves, if necessary. However, in any good story, the ending can’t be happy: her father took her brother and left, leaving her alone with her mother for moons upon moons. She talks to herself, always reminiscing on their leave or … death , and as for her mother, she hates her with a passion. She would cry under a sky of darkness, or shimmering stars, out of anger or even sorrow for her own miserable loss.

She did love her family, very much but it’s too late to turn the tables and her fueling hatred can’t be taken back. She doesn’t have any other family that she knows of, so it’s not like she would find any interest to go digging for treasure. She digresses on her reasons for disliking them so potently, and all she can come to in a meager conclusion, is that she reviled to be alone and unloved. She didn’t feel loved, not at all. Although, if there had been an abrupt change in the abhorrent turn their relationship had taken, she wouldn’t care much to give them any deliverance from their space. To her, things are better off this way. She can’t act towards them, but if she saw them at least, she would be terrible. This she-cat knows no softness, or ecstasy anyway, and the last thing she would want to do is provoke the problem. In the action her parents being born, she’s been sour over that, but she loves who she is and she’s very glad she was born. Now, time to dispose of them after the creation of bliss, sure is bliss, oh contentment !

Don't speak, no, don't even breath! Midnight consideration over love, in her entire lifetime she doesn’t even want anyone to love her. She takes pleasure in being alone, even if it can be a little monotonous, due to the lack of exchange in words. How dare you even jump to the assumption she would have a mate! You should be ashamed of yourself, because she doesn’t want one. She doesn’t need one! The soppy emotion that lovers swap to one another makes her sick to her stomach, she swears . Her mother had her love, but even that was portrayed so defectively, considering she never had any affection or voluntary intimacy for Midnight’s father. This she-cat trusts nobody, and so she wouldn’t even be compatible in a relationship where devotion was needed. She couldn’t be in love with anyone, due to her height in confidence.

You have to respect the equality in a relationship, she sees, and she worships herself as a goddess, making this entirely impossible. How can she adore someone when she’s stuck believing that she’s the best thing in the world? No amount of hypocrisy, or taunt from anyone could make her less content with how she is. She doesn’t know it’s just her, it’s washed over her, she is immune to insults, as she is god, she believes . Not only that, but she doesn’t even have any desire for a relationship. Kittens are insolent, pathetic bundles and mates are just as bad, only coming in a larger package. Their fate is death. But if there was the off chance that she did have a mate, she would never offer any intimacy, and she would be as rude as ever. Don’t expect much affability from her, you won’t receive very much.

Open your eyes, darling, and look into my soul! Midnight is extremely complicated, as a whole, you could say. Her belief in life itself is difficult to interpret, considering the circumstances of her experience so far. She has no religion, even when she was raised from her mother’s ongoing faith. Ever so slightly…she does in fact worship herself as a goddess, imagining she is the only worthy one on Earth to succeed their essences, to surpass even the Clan’s gods themselves! She is confident to no end, and it is also in honesty that she finds no problem with being who she is; or what she says or how she acts towards others. If there were some brave soul, some poor, sad and unable to be helped soul out there, who had the nerve to come forward and confront of her of her flaws, and tell her how they saw it, she wouldn’t care at all.

She wouldn’t think about it, and if she did, you would have had to say something pretty important…she would throw her head back and cackle to the stars in humor and excitement. Why waste time being bothered by big talk, when that’s all it is? Is a string of words said over and over again…meaning the same thing, and saying the same thing? Oh please, spare her the d**n lecture; she’s heard it all before. She knows what she’s capable of and she knows her limits, the only doubt she has over herself is her sanity. She’s been through so much…and she realizes she’s not the most sane out of the entire bunch, but she knows she’s smart…she knows her intelligence is nothing to underestimate and she knows exactly what she can do. She could be ruthless, like never before, or she could actually shed a small ounce of pity…your choice. She hates kittens, and she finds the need to kill those who disrespect her authority.

She bows to no one, and if she found some joke interesting enough to join one of the pitiable Clans, she would definitely ignore any orders. She is their leader, in life itself; there is no need for her to move at their command! And inside her head, there’s a voice that aids her. It just appeared there, one day and it’s been there ever since. It speaks to her as though it was her mother, and she can hate that and she can love it. Sometimes she even agrees with it…in all honestly she’s dark and morbid. Her favorite game is to see how many lives she can take. Every response you can get out of her is cold, and sarcastic. You see, she doesn’t like simple answers, so don’t expect any. Sometimes she wouldn’t show this side, due to the agony it brings her to release her inner demons…she thinks of them as friends, friends who are evil and merciless. She wants to be her own demon, the ruler of them all!

She thinks always over her mother, and her father and brother and she just wishes occasionally that they hadn’t left her to her fate. She could cry, if it were in her nature to do so, over what her mother did to her and what her parents had decided only due to what their own parents thought. She is insane, but somewhere she wants to be better. There is no help in hell, son, no smiles close enough to touch. She's so confused in life, and only driven by her pain that she still holds in her heart. She never planned to be this way and it's true she wasn't always this way anyway. You can't blame her for being icy, look who brought her up to begin with. She doesn't have a real grip on life, she feels and knows, she is still lost in this unruly place and is stumbling over a dark and twitsed path to find her way, still unknown to others. She's not afraid to lie and she would do anything to save her hide, if it was that serious and necessary. She can't be trusted because in truth, she can't even trust herself.

I am Midnight, hear my roar! Midnight is a beast in general; her attitude and emotions are morbid and merciless but to find out how she is in battle, you ought to get ready…she has never, before her isolation, been so profound to fights of overwhelming power and such…sincerity. She would never turn down a fight as long as in her mind the calculations lead to her amazing success. She uses her size to her advantage as well as her intelligence; measuring the distances and the potency behind strikes. The one thing her mother taught her before forcing her to hold her own, was to fight and she is a weapon you can’t doubt. Even when she believes she is, she isn’t immortal. It is a possibility to wound her, but such a thing to do is rare and not many have gone far enough to do so.

Even an enemy who deems itself a Leader , who possesses nine lives, or a Rogue who had never lost a fight, they can’t simple think they could go up against her and get out alive. Due to her family skills, ones that differ far from the Clans way of fighting, that is much more dangerous and harder to master. She’s fought against Clan cats before, and so everything that they learn through basics, aren’t surprising to her. In fact, she’s mastered those too, and she uses their hunting techniques, each and every one of the Clans styles, to her advantage. If she wanted to, she could use their fighting ones as well. She’s always confident and she loves a good duel, which is so to speak if the enemy or opponent isn’t stronger than her, she would reject their proposal and if they forced a battle to take place, she would join in but slip away quietly. Such fools they are! Always doubting her mind and how she uses it, but of course, the voice aids her and is a key source to her acute knowledge.

She’s very observant and you wouldn’t find her to be the first to roar into a fight…as she would watch and learn, then link into the fray. She sums up power from her muscles and inner demons, and then, with a plan in mind based on how she saw them fight to begin with, she would thrust her way through; using claws, teeth and supremacy to win. So wild does she fight, and dirty, that it would also make it hard for others to even succeed in living after wards. She never forgets and often she has grudges on others, and finds that if she found them again, she would promise herself to take their live, coldly. She’s hard to understand and her moves are very unsystematic, but she means every hit. She doesn’t make accident slashes, just out of random. She’s not much of a talker during a fight, and not very often would she sit and listen to what her enemy had to say. Babble takes up too much time, time that she could spend killing the hated. There is no room for weaklings on her Earth! In her world! She is everything far from casual, and coming up against her voluntarily, is a mistake all its own. She has no care for others lives, and the only thing useful to her, would be taking them and feeding her thirst for death! She is persuasive and if there were a cat that didn’t bow down to her act, she would use force, behind a plan, and make them beg to her act and demands.

Description:

Who's that cat looking back at me, mama? Midnight is the diminutive entity that haunts your dreams; her muscular form tight in build, with wide set shoulders to square off her soaring figure. Tough strength resides under her thick skin; ripping in immense power. This she-cat is not as petite as you think, considering her age at this time. To be of only eight moons, she holds more vigor than the average cat her size. Her hind legs are the least bit willowy, as even they are complete with their sinewy brawn. She has learned to dwell in resilience, and refuse to seem weak over her appearance.

I can't see myself, mama, the darkness is swallowing me. How far can the darkness go? Midnight, but a secluded soul among a crowd of strangers, couldn’t possibly know. But she takes guesses through her incredible gloomy coat, mighty and rippling in all of its glory. It could be said to be black, or an ivory black, but the roots where her fur goes fade off into a smoky hue. It would be appropriate to assume her fur was less than long, just sleek and soft, even as morbid as she is. It’s thick like a forest, and as strong as the roots of a potent oak; nothing about her is simple, and by looking at her amazing hide, of the deep abyss, you could somehow feel lost. Her size and fur make up for this, I swear. There are a few different shades that blend into her pelt, but in honesty, its ebony, like the everlasting night, a night with no moon. No stars.

Such anger in those eyes...who do they belong to, mama? Midnight’s eyes must be the most beyond belief thing about her entire appearance, some could say. There’s never been a color to name them on, but sticking with ocher is the right way to go. The wild gale of orange and gold, piling on into each other, and the dark red and smoldering hues of ire that scream on out to everyone. She’s constantly kept her eyes closed, or to the near state where they could be mistaken for such. Her eyes aren’t out of the ordinary in size, so they’re labeled as average as they could possibly go.

What else is there to know, mama? Tell me, oh please! Midnight is just as any other feline in regular ways, as her claws are as sharp as razor blades and her teeth shine as white as the snow in Leaf-bare. Light gray specks dapple her claws and her teeth have found to have ashen yellow lines scraping into them from the long moons of feasting on prey, the moons she’s been alive. This she-cat’s paws are special, you see, they’re very big, in fact, larger than any other cat her age’s. Tufts of dark charcoal fur seeps through her individual pads, due to the length of her fur altogether. Speaking of pads, hers are thick, strong and dark with a layer of callas grown over them from her long travel. Midnight’s tail is long, too, and at its end it expands out into a sheen and silky conclusion, to lay down the fact it’s wider nearest its end rather than closer to her body. She’s a beautiful cat, but every apple has its rot, and right over her left shoulder is a long, distinct scar, waned by time stretching from her breast bone up to her shoulder blade. It’s a pale pink now, but she has hopes it will fade in time, or at least vanish to the slightest. Her muzzle isn't long, or short, it's about average, but her ears are tall, and at their peaks are extra strands of hair, gleaming darkest as ever.

History:

Midnighthowls history is extremely complicated, I think we'd all do better without knowing this. xD.

I'll let you in on a few, though.

I thought her up originally as a Clan Deputy, but then it faded off so she was mainly a very maladjusted cat who was without guidance. Fueled by hatred. Her family line's tradition to grow up and to show they were ready was made for the parents to make the kits leave to live on their own at six moons. Ice, Midnight(this was her name before she joined any Clan) -- yes, she was born rogue entirely; her mother Ice, had kits with a Loner named Berley. And he knew what was supposed to happen to the Kits Ice had (she could only have one litter, and she did, and she had a son and a daughter) once they were six moons. It was also tradition that the father take the toms, and the mother took the she-cats. So Midnight kept to her mother and Twig, her brother, went with Berley. Well, moons progressed and Ice was keeping in order, but Berley wasn't. At the age of seven moons, Twig still remained with his father and Midnight hated her mother for forcing her to leave when her brother had been given an option. And then she grew, and etc. I did her appearance and personality how I would see it when she was younger, but I'm going to write her post [rp post here] of her on memories. C:

Roleplay:

The large black she-cat moved with such elegance, it was hard to believe she had been a matted rogue with a thirst for killing, to feed her hatred and remorse. In her dark, bloody past of sorrow and anguish. And now, Midnighthowl was a ShadowClan warrior. For her, it was hard to believe she was equal to her 'Clan mates' when every time she looked at them, or more so, past them, her mind reeled to murdering them. Oh, so honey sweet. Her ocher eyes darted from side to side, in case she ran into a patrol around now. It wouldn't be surprising, with her luck. The day was ending, and the wind was cold with the black night to fuel it's ice. She shuddered under her ebony coat. It was crisp outside, like the frost of the sundown would bite her paws and give her the same feeling she had so many moons ago. It reminded her steadily. Don't look back on it, Midnight! It's no good, I swear it! It's going to hurt you, and you know it so . . . the voice tuned out, and though her vision did not blur and she didn't lose sight of the path she was taking, everything went blank before the screen lit. She winced sub consciously.

The cold wind blew hard against the sewer, where Midnight and her mother had taken shelter. The dew was freezing, into a frost that gripped the black cats paws with a force that couldn't be undone. She let out a cry to Ice, her mother, who was inches away staring out the end into the darkness that hardly welcomed her. What was she doing? Had she seen something down there? With a small mew, she drew closer. To hopefully snuggle to warmth in the russet tabby's coat which was as soft and heated as the rising sun. "Mother, my paws hurt." Midnight started, her ocher eyes blinking slowly as she resisted the pain that was running up her limbs. There was no reply from the queen. Nothing that had let her daughter know that she had heard her. "Mother-"

"Midnight. Quiet now." Ice hissed with a sudden anger that flashed in her golden gaze, and the black she-cat shrunk back in fear. What had she done to make her so upset? Silence took advantage of their pause. Midnights mother broke it with a growl, that progressed into more words. "You need to leave. Go hold your own, I cannot support you anymore, Midnight. You know this." She added, though her tone was more so pained in anguish to have to say such a thing. In the depth of Midnights mind, she knew it was true. But she loved her mother, she loved her for everything she had done. To bring life into her own world, and take care of her only daughter, her only kit, the way that counted. Her voice was cracked with surprise and sorrow when she replied, "Why now? Mother, it's cold out. I don't want to leave!" She argued, though it was useless.

Ice whipped around to snarl, the only way to make her see sense and obey. "You will survive the cold. You are my daughter and you are strong enough, and smart enough to live on your own. After all, you'd much rather live alone...than not at all? If not, something can be arranged." The small black cat let out a gasp, because she knew. She knew what her mother was implying: that she would kill her if she didn't leave. But was she serious? Or was she just trying to get her daughter out. To get her to leave. As much as she didn't want to, she would have to. And right now. She couldn't be sure Ice would really harm her, but she knew well enough in her own safe mind that she wasn't volunteering to find out. Rising to her paws, noiselessly, she frowned and started towards the entrance to the cold and dark pipe. "Then I suppose...this is goodbye..." she choked, her yellowy brown optics glistening with tears, and glazed over in remorse. Ice didn't answer and Midnight didn't know if that was because she was too sad to speak, or didn't wish to say another word to her filthy kit. She padded out into the dark night, and disappeared. To never see her mother again. Who would have known?

I shouldn't be surprised. That she would make me leave.. Midnighthowls thoughts droned, and she felt guilty almost. If not for the fresh sadness that had washed over her. The guilt and regret from not listening to her voice. She knew that it was protecting her, just making sure she was kept in line. She would eventually drop out, which they both knew. The lust she had, the need to kill to let out her emotions was strengthening every day. Every second. And there was nothing she could do to put it's restless hunger at bay. Hunting was nothing. It was like breathing, and she had no basic opinion that lasted long enough to think about it. Two, three seconds and she had several bodies to feast upon with mere distaste. No. We both hadn't expected it, but look, you have become beautiful and have taken care of yourself. What she did was for your well being and interest. It chimed like a bell, and when the warrior didn't reply mentally, it continued for a heartbeat. Unless.. you'd rather have stayed, to be helpless without your mommy to hold your hand. The smugness in it's tone..there was no mistaking it's purpose. Midnighthowl knew what it was doing, it was trying to make her annoyed so she would feel better about leaving that day, and it was working. But she still wished, wished that she had not left. And would have been killed by her own mother. Maybe she wouldn't have to put up with this. This stupid love of bloodshed and death. Oh, shut up. If I had stayed, she would have killed us. Would you have wanted that? She growled back silently, her claws unsheathing as a reflex. How can you be so sure she would have killed you? Ignoring it she focused on something else.

Wondering, if Vampirefang was keeping up alright. She wasn't even sure how long it had been since they left Fourtrees, only that the Thunder path was drawing up, somewhere ahead, and then they would make an easy trot through ShadowClan territory to get to camp where strangers would welcome her once again. The sun was gone. Long set under the hills and trees, she noted, watching her breath escape her maw in wisps of cold induced puffs. The freezing night would drag on, and then tomorrow would greet them with blinding light and a warm touch from the great ball of fire. What was the point of caring anymore? Everything repeated itself. Just as day and night did so. The ShadowClan leader would exile her, when the time came that she no longer could hold off her love of killing. "Oh well. Nothing new." She murmured, to herself. Not being bothered if the large tabby tom had been close enough to hear her. She wondered now vaguely how he was able to track her. Was her scent that familiar? Or did he have really good ears? Pah. I wish she had. Maybe you wouldn't have come to me; I'm so sick of your jibes. She grumbled, clearly displeased by it's existence. The fumes of the road drew up ahead, and she screwed up her face against the scorching scent that burned the back of her throat.

The hard concrete that made her paws ache every time she laid one down, it's awkwardly smooth surface. But it's acrid taste, so bitter on her tongue. She couldn't wait to cross it. To get to the marshlands already, though they didn't smell much better. She mused with a smirk. No monsters came, thankfully. Until after she had slipped to the safety of the weeds that flanked the black stinky stone. This place felt sort of like home, though she couldn't exactly label it as such a thing. She was a traveling murderer, and simple, little happy things like "happily ever after" never came to her. On life saving prices. Translation: Nothing good happened unless she killed someone and took what they had. Thief. She was one of those too! And you said it didn't bring a smile to your face. If I wasn't here to remind you of the pleasant memories, who would you thank? The voice started out of the blue, another of it's amazing stunts. She let out a laugh, the humor of her comeback she could see. I didn't say anything, you just assumed. She spat, though her eyes gleamed with a delight she was joyed to greet. Though the black she-cat wasn't sure she was finished, something about her reply left her a little plain. And I wouldn't thank anyone. You're a pain in my butt. Perfect. That was the reply she had been working on. She just hoped that her silence wasn't mistaken for a lie. Don't be such a sour tart. You ruin the better of MY days, and your own. No wonder-I never asked for a response! You can't tell between self opinion and an actual purposely spoken reply to you! Just be quiet for once. And for a change, it listened. With the time of day, and the voice arguing with her inside her own head she remembered back when...

"Twig! You cheated! That doesn't count as a win." Midnight hissed, though her angry response became a mrrow of laughter at what her brother had done. The light tabby tom had brought back a half way gone piece of crowfood, and they were supposed to be hunting food. When her father, had told them that whoever brought back the most could get their fill first. Her excitement was at it's peak. Since she had found her aunt, she had been reunited with her father and her younger brother, the ones she never knew she had. Her paws tingled. So far, she had probably two mice, a vole and a thrush. But everything else seemed to be gone, like they had heard the muffled screams of the victims and decided to hide until they felt it was safe to come out from their burrows. Twig wasn't having as much luck as she was, all he had brought back to their gathering spot was a stringy squirrel, a crow and half a rabbit. Which smelled really really bad. She leaned away from it with distaste. "Why not? It's still prey." He joked, prodding it with a paw. Surely, he could see that nobody was going to eat that. Yuck. If it wasn't so flat, and empty, it's belly would be alive with maggots. But if it wasn't right now, then that was saying something. Not even the flies were interested in the rancid tang of rotting flesh that was illuminating off of it in waves. Waves about the size of tsunami's.

Clearly, he seemed to agree with her after a moment. Because he looked up, his milk chocolate brown eyes creasing with disappointment that I wasn't giving in to his offer of a nice, gross rabbit. "Oh, fine. I'll go get something better, if that's what you want." He grumbled, but there was a small light in his eyes that let Midnight know he wasn't holding anything against her for not wanting that -she glanced in the direction of the roadkill- on their food pile. As much as she had gathered, she found the softness in herself willing enough to help him get something decent. Though he owed her later! This was counting against him in every way possible. She giggled under her breath. They were heading out to the meadow, that surrounded the barn. Which was where they had taken shelter that particular week. Or moon. They shifted homes every other month, or so. Not really surprising. Her father said it was to keep them hidden, and safe. Lurking in one place could pose a threat to other animals or cats who had claimed it long before they had. They were more for the peace. The black she-cat had just remembered, from the dark space of her mind, that her father had strictly told them to stay away from hunting in the field. Despite it's bulge in prey, there were dogs that came out often. She shied away, a little flushed. "Uhh, Twig.. Didn't father say not to hunt around here? There could be dogs." She reminded him in a worried, silky tone. Though, he shrugged. "I doubt it. Besides, he said there could be dogs, he wasn't admitting to being absolutely sure. We'll be fine." He replied, sounding a bit more laid back about it.

But of course he was. He was Twig. He was the brave, courageous tom cat who would risk their lives to replace the ugly half gone rabbit he'd brought in with such pride. She winced mentally. As much as she wanted to argue with him, she was quiet and just followed his lead. He usually knew what he was doing. She trusted his judgment like she trusted her gut. But how good was that? Her trance had been all she was working on, and she wasn't really paying attention to what her brother was doing. Until he let out a yeep and broke off into a swift run. He was chasing a rabbit. Oh, so he was going for the living ones now. That was good. But something was wrong, not only were they close to the Thunderpath, but a rising growl was emitting from the trees beside them. And it sounded dangerous. She shrunk back into the field, hoping to be masked from view. Fear gripped her chest and her ocher eyes grew wide. In a heartbeat, a massive ginger dog had began a sprint after Twig. Her brother was fast, but the dog was faster. And it gained on the tabby tom with such a lust, a desire she let out a cry. It was then, that Twig realized what was chasing him, and he whipped his head around to see the beast in all it's entirety. But those last moments were too short, when her brother turned his head back a moment too late, to see where he was. Unable to see that the dog had abruptly stopped. The lights of the monster blinded Midnight, and she heard a crash of the brakes that slid over the Thunderpath in an instant. But as soon as it had done so, it stopped and the blue monster drove away just as it came around the bend several moments ago. The dog was heading away, triumphant. Her breathing accelerated. And she hurried up to the edge of the road, only to see the rabbit, safe, dart away. There he was. His twisted, mangled, lifeless body in the center of the Thunderpath. "Twig!" Her cracked, and grief-filled voice echoed off the Highstones. It had been his own fault, that he didn't listen to her, hadn't been careful enough. And now he was dead.

It had been his fault anyway. That he went after it, and ignored what she'd said. She was surprised, by the small drop of a tear that rolled down her cheek by the bittersweet memory. Maybe she should have let him keep the crowfood anyway. It would have saved his life if she'd just sucked it up like a rogue, a rogue that she was and let him be. ShadowClan camp was still a bit away, but the familiar scents of the terra welcomed her and she felt peace overcome her sadness. The fresh grief she felt now at even the memoir of his passing. It hadn't been fair.

[Splashy]

Cat's Name: Dappledfur
Cat's Rank: Warrior
Cat's Age: 15 and a half moons
Personality: Very efficient with words, doesn’t like being wordy or talking for long periods of time.
Highly gullible, if you told her mice were falling from the sky she’d believe you. Very efficient hunter, just like when she speaks. Doesn’t like to go into long dramatic stories, but prefers to just cut to the chase.
Description: Golden-brown she-cat with dark brown dapples here and there. Has lighter paws, ears, and tail. Claws aren’t highly long, neither are her teeth. Eyes are yellow-orange. Whiskers are quite long, but not abnormally so.
History: When born, a typical birth without any death. Dappledfur was part of a litter of three, with her brother Elmclaw and sister Willowkit. Before they were apprenticed, their camp was struck with an epidemic of greencough, and her sister Willowkit died. She was mentored by Speckledpelt, a tortoiseshell she-cat now an elder. Has never mentored an apprentice.
Roleplay: There it was. A scrumptious, juicy rabbit. One just waiting to fall into my paws. One step at a time. Don’t scare it away yet! Just keep on going… These were the frantic thoughts going through a slender cat’s mind. The sun shone on her fur, the moors providing no cover. The rabbit raised it heads, sniffing the air gingerly. Finding an itch behind its ear, it decided it had seen nothing of the cat planning to take its life. As the rabbit scratched, the dappled she-cat broke into a run, the rabbit bounding away also. The sunlight bounced off of the rabbit’s glossy fur as it tried to get back to its home, protection from this predator. The rabbit had realized too late. Catching up to the rabbit, the cat quickly gave it the swiftest end it could have by her kill. She gave a fast bite to its neck, and placed it on the ground.
“Thank you StarClan,” murmured the she-cat, before burying her fresh-kill and moving on to find other prey.

The moors were long, and she had lots of land to search for fresh kill. Scenting the air, her yellow eyes glinting in the sun, she scented the smell of her brother, Elmclaw.
"Hi little sis," he mewed, walking over, his green eyes glinting.
"You're only a few heartbeats older than me you snob," mewed Dappledfur curtly, rubbing against her brother's side. The tom chuckled and scented the air.
"Caught a rabbit did you? That's why I couldn't catch any prey. You hunt so loud any prey within the whole territory is gone in a flash," joked Elmclaw, licking his sister's ear.
"Oh shush," snapped Dappledfur, "We should be getting back to camp."
"You're right," said Elmclaw, sniffing around. He unburied a nearby vole as Dappledfur dug up her rabbit. The two, tails intertwined, walked towards the large rock marking their camp entrance.

[cricketsong]

Cat's Name: Briarpaw
Cat's Rank: Apprentice
Cat's Age: 7 moons
Personality: Briarpaw is like most other cats his age: He wants to be the best appretince, greatest warrior, bravest deputy, and someday, a great leader. Maybe you could say he's a little more ambitious than other cats. At the moment, there's hardly a thing Briarpaw wouldn't do to become a better apprentice. Even if it means more bedding for the elders, delivering fresh-kill to the queens, or even helping collect herbs, Briarpaw has his sights set. He doesn't want anything to get in the way of his dream. Sometimes, this causes some rocky friendships because of his supreme dedication. There's hardly a moment when Briarpaw's paws aren't working toward his goal. He's sometimes less attentive to other cats' problems because he's probably trying to do something else at the same time he's supposed to be listening. Sometimes, when he's alone, Briarpaw wishes he had better friendships and such, but the next day during training, he seems to forget. This trait also causes Briarpaw's disobedience to the medicine cat. He never wants to stop helping RiverClan, even when he's sick. This usually makes him sicker, or a paw sorer, but hardly even whitecough could stop Briarpaw. Many cats believe Briarpaw's ambitions are too strong. They wonder if it could ever drive him down a sinister road that has only been touched by evil... But Briarpaw cherishes RiverClan and his Clanmates far too much to kill to get where he wants to be. He's going to do things the right way, and claw his way to the top fair and square.

Description: Briarpaw is rather large for an apprentice his age. His broad shoulders and height have him often mistaken for a much older cat in the other Clans. His paws would be a little large for most cats near his age, but they match perfectly with his build. This also gives Briarpaw great balance, despite his slightly shorter tail. His claws aren't unusually large, despite his paw size, but should still be feared as well. Briarpaw's coat is a mottled tortoiseshell of mostly shades of brown and a little black here and there. In fact, one of the small splotches of black are on both of Briarpaw's front paws. The color stays consistent up to his chest on his right but stops on the ankle of his left paw. Another rather large amount of black is most of Briarpaw's face and ears. His chest and stomach have small, evenly distributed patches of white among the darker colors. Briarpaw's eyes are a simple amber, with a slightly darker glow to them, contrasting his coat just a little bit. His tail fades to black until the very tip, which is the darkest black on his body. Up until the end, it has browns mixed in until you can hardly notice another color than black about half-way.

History: Briarpaw was his parents' only kit, and was blamed for his mother's death. Sharpthorn, his father, shadowed his every pawstep as a kit, despite his surrogate mother's dislike of the tom. When Briarkit's mother, Moonshine, died almost as soon as he was born, Sharpthorn began to hate his only son. He looked upon his every fault as failure, even if it was a stumble or something Briarkit accidentally forgot. Constantly being stalked by his father, Briarkit often snuck out of camp. He would explore the reeds and stretch his legs, sometimes even trying to hunt when he got too bored. All of Briarkit's explorations were when the moon lit the sky, and after he made sure every cat but the warrior on watch was sleeping, he'd sneak out from behind the nursery. The real reason he snuck out at night when the moon was shining was because he felt closer to his late mother. He'd ask for her help in how to live the life all the other kits did; Carefree and joyous. Whenever he was found, this only made Sharpthorn even more furious, but Briarkit relished his moments outside of the camp that enclosed him.

About a moon before Briarpaw was apprenticed, Sharpthorn disappeared. No cat knows to where, how, or if he died. His body was never discovered on RiverClan territory, or anywhere else as far as they know. Briarpaw felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and his world expanded. But there was still something that haunted him. His father's urge for him to always be his best has never left him. Briarpaw doesn't feel as though he owes it to his father to be great, he wants to be great. There's just something about the way his father was that a little piece of him still wants to make him proud. Much more than that, he wants to make Moonshine proud of her only kit. A deep, hidden part of Briarpaw still thinks he'll never be good enough. Not for his Clan, not to be a warrior, and not even for StarClan.

Roleplay: Briarpaw crept along the moonlit path, keeping his tail and ears low. The moon shimmered with an icy light, despite the warm, leaf-green air that hung over RiverClan's territory. The tortoiseshell tom made his way through the tall grasses, sneezing every once and a while, having just gotten over a cold. He shook his head impatiently as he tread the path he hadn't walked on for nearly three seasons.

Glancing around cautiously, Briarpaw spotted his old, makeshift den. For nights upon end as a kit, he had sought refuge in the small enclosure of reeds from his controlling father. He opened his mouth slowly, checking the scents around him... Nothing. Not even so much as a vole had taken up residence inside of the den. Briarpaw's tail ceased it's worrisome twitching, and he threw a glance to each side once more before stepping into his den.

His shoulders having widened and legs grown longer, the RiverClan apprentice could hardly fit all of his fur in the den. Nonetheless, he curled his tail around his body and closed his eyes. It was as if all the moons had never passed and he wasn't a sunrise older. Briarpaw felt that old, trapped feeling come over him, and he winced. His eyes flashed open, hating feeling visibly vulnerable. He glanced up to where the moon shone brightly and was again reminded of the mother he'd never known.

Closing his eyes again, this time Briarpaw felt a wave of security wash over him and it was as if he'd known his mother his whole life.

[shiningheart]

((Not sure if we're allowed to do more than one cat at once, but this is when I posted with two of my cats, so...*shrug* Suppose it doesn't matter, I'll lose anyway.))

Cat's Name: Shiningheart/Blizzardshard
Cat's Rank: Deputy/warrior
Cat's Age: 19/21

Personality:

Shiningheart

To her friends, Shiningheart is a playful, mischievious, carefree warrior. To the cats she doesn't care much for, she's just plain annoying. Shiningheart is adventerous, almost to the point of recklessness. As a kit, she constantly tried to sneak out of camp. And because of that, she was constantly getting in trouble. Like the time she got caught in the thorn barrier. Despite the pain of thorns piercing around her body, she was still able to laugh at her sister's distress. Shiningheart is a leader. She gets annoyed when other cats don't follow her lead, but she doesn't complain and respects their choices.

Blizzardshard

Despite his size, Blizzardshard is quick witted and funny. His mum and dad are one of the biggest grumps in ThunderClan, so he took his training seriously. But when he wasn't training, he was by the nursery, playing with Shiningkit and Venomkit. As much as his mum hates it, Blizzardshard has a soft spot for the two younger she-cats. When he was in the nursery with them, he was the logical and rule abiding one of the group. But somehow both Shiningkit and Venomkit made him do some of the stupidest things.

Description:

Shiningheart

Shiningheart's eyes are a light, crystal blue. When she's happy and having fun, they sparkle with happyness and playfulness. When she feels a negative emotion, (i.e. Anger, sadness, or seriousness) her eyes are hard chips of ice. Shiningheart has short, pure white fur. No markings fur earth mar the perfect pelt. She's small for her age. She's small when compared to her sister, Venomwind. When she's next to Blizzardshard, she's tiny. Her tail is short and fluffy.

Blizzardshard

His amber eyes are look more like dried mud when he's glaring. When his eyes are soft, they look more like the soft amber of a maple leaf. Blizzardshard is a long-furred tom. His pelt is mainly white with patches of light gray and light blue. Blizzardshard is a big cat. Bigger than a cat his age should be. And he knows how to use it. In battle, this cat's big frame, quick reflexes, and sharp claws make for a dangerous enemy.

History:

Shiningheart

Her father was killed by a fox when she was two moons old. He was Rattail, of ThunderClan. Her mother, Darkpelt, comes from ShadowClan. Her Clanmates despise her because of her half-clan heritage. But that never dampened her spirits. Like the one time she got caught in the thorn barrier trying to sneak out of camp. Despite the pain of thorns piercing her flesh all around her body, she was still able to laugh at her sister's distress. When Shiningheart fought in a battle against RiverClan, she almost got killed. Blizzardshard was the only reason she survived. He stayed beside her, pressing stray cobwebs into her wounds until a medicine cat could take over.

Blizzardshard

Blizzardshard's mother, Moonfrost, never treated him like a kit. When he wasn't where he was supposed to be, he was punished. When he was late, he got no food. She treated him more as an apprentice than a son. His father, Brackentail, was no better. Brackentail hardly ever visited him in the nursery, and only ever saw him as a future warrior of ThunderClan. His only friends were Shiningkit and Venomkit. But they were enough for him. As an apprentice, he fought in a battle against RiverClan. He saved Shiningheart's life by pressing what little cobwebs he could into her wounds. Since then, he's been a bit protective of both his friends because of how much the thought of losing either she-cat scared him.

[glow=blue,2,300]Roleplay:[/glow]

Shiningheart lay in one of the nests in the medicine den. Her bandaged side itched something fierce. But she dared not itch it, lest it reopen her stinging wounds. Her ears perked up when Blizzardshard came into the den, carrying a mouse and two voles. "Wow." She meowed, her eyes wide. "That's the most fresh-kill I've seen in a while!"

Blizzardshard put down the rodents and smiled at Shiningheart. "I know." He nudged one of the voles toward her. "This one is for you." Then he separate the remaining vole and the mouse. "The other vole is for Mosspelt. I chose the mouse for myself." He glanced over the body and watched Shiningheart's expression nervously. "I wasn't sure if I was allowed to eat with you or not, seeing as how you're still recovering..."

Shiningheart purred at him and pulled the vole closer to her. Then she frowned down at it. It actually had some meat on it. "What did the queens and elders get?" She asked thoughtfully.

Blizzardshard purred at her concern. "The queens each got a pigeon, and the elders got the biggest rabbit in the fresh-kill pile." Her shocked look drew a bark of laughter from him.

"It's a pile?" She asked, voice dripping surprise. "Normally, it's just scattered remains of what the patrols could find! Who caught it all?" She didn't miss the flash of pride that swept across his face.

"Your apprentice. Venomwind and I have been taking turns training her." He answered in confident tone. "I've been watching her progress, along with her sibling. Nectorpaw is becoming an awesome hunter, and Moonpaw is an impressive fighter." He shook his head and bent forward to take a bite of his mouse. "Mosswhisker doesn't seem to have a lot of confidence as a mentor, but that will come in time."

[Mousey Tiki Dogrock and more]

(ooc: might join site later but please dont destroy this post or anything beause im not yet a member

Cat's Name:Fadedkit
Cat's Rank:Lame Defective, and Mostly Hopeless Kit of RiverClan
Cat's Age: 5 moons, same as his brother
Personality: A depressed, lonely kit with hidden dreams and little hope; wishes he weren't the way he was. Feels his fate is confined to the elders den. Hates being catered to. Feelings make him tend to think negatively
Description: Dark ashy-gray base, with lighter stripes. Faded dull grey-blue eyes, with a hint of ice. Blind and deaf, lame left hindleg that drags behind him and lots of scars on his hind, and especially long one on his lame leg. Scars not very noticible. Can tell what cats are saying through voice vibrations if touching them.
History: Was born in RiverClan blind and deaf, at 1 moons there was a fox attack, and even though his parents protected him, he was wounded on his left hind leg. His father was killed by the fox. He spent 2 moons in the med cat's den, but even they could do no more for his leg. Cats always try to help him whereever he goes, though he tries to show them he can walk around fine, having made a mental map of the camp.
Roleplay:

The small kit yawned, sharp teeth showing in his mouth. He closed it and stretched, though his eyes were still closed. His muscles relaxed, he sat up and gave himself a brisk shake, before finally reminding himself to open his eyes. Dull, slightly icy orbs appeared on his features at last, though in reality it didn't matter to him. All he ever saw in his world was darkness, endless and penetrating no matter what he did. He'd never seen what other cats described to him as color, never known what they meant when they said "blue as the sky" or "gold as the sun". Even his dreams weren't much different than his waking moments, except that one was reality, and the other fiction. And as far as he was concerned with color, what did it really matter? He'd never seen the sun rise over the trees, or hear the hawks screech in the air, nor did he ever expect to. He half-considered keeping his eyes closed, unnerving the cats for no reason whatsoever, but rejected it. He wasn't in a mad at the world kinda mood today. Sighing, he straightned his posture. Another day of dreadfulness. He was getting closer and closer to 6 moons, and every day unnerved him even more. He was positive that Spanningstar would send him with the elders, just like every other cat in history. But he was scared of the day it would come. Though he would never admit it to anyone else, deep down he secretly hoped to become an apprentice. A warrior. And perhaps, even deeper down, though he would never admit it, something else. Leader.

A thump of vibration through the ground made him turn his head sharply, in the direction of the nursery entrance. Faker and Stalk's scents wafted under his nose. He sighed, as the vibration waves continued. Play-fighting. Something he'd never been very good at , due to his lame leg. Though his blindness and deafness had some effect as well, he guessed. He didn't mind he wasn't good, didn't really care at all. But every time he tried to pad up, to join in the sport, it broke up. Long silences. Quick scattering. Everyone always though he was a freak; only his brother Pawkit ever actually tried playing with him. They thought he should be confined in a nest or something, that it was unnatural for him to be able to walk around and talk to you, much less play around. He flicked his tail irritably as excitment drove off the two kits in waves. If he didn't have to deal with his leg..................

He was padding around the side of the nursery, playing with a blade of grass he'd found. He smelled his mother nearby, and his brother was on the other side of camp, being granted permission to come with his dad. Suddenly there was a great roar of vibration in the bushes not far away from him, and he smelt fear from someone across the camp. Suddenly an awful, bloody stench flooded his nose. Even though he was only 1 moon old, and even though he still took milk, he knew instantly what it had to be. Throbbing waves waves went through the ground, and he squeaking in terror, running as fast as he could away as it chased after him. He yelped as its jaws snapped at him, grazing his leg. Red covered the ground as he. He tripped, he fell at the base of the trunk, it was coming closer, he couldn't escape it. Suddenly his world was blotted out in a storm of anger, as his father's scent filled his nostrils. Blood tinted the air as Sternfall attacked the fox, the fox that almost killed his son.................

The scent of herbs filled the space as he stirred sleepily, unfamiliar with the den. Honeysalve, the medicine cat he'd met only once, was hovering over him; he could feel her sigh of relief brush his face. Pawsteps rushed over, and his mom's soothign tongue swept over his face, her scent comforting. Where's Sternfall? he'd asked, angling his head up at his mom curiously. There was a pause, he guessed his mom was saying something to the medicine cat, before she curled up around him, making sure that Fadedkit would be able to understand what she said. He instantly knew something was wrong. What is it? His mother sighed, before gently telling him what had happened............[/i][/color]

He shook the memory from his mind, his stomach growling hungrily. Smelling prey, he quickly located it to the fresh kill pile and heaved himself up, his leg dragging behind. Though he couldn't really tell where his leg was unless he touched it, since he had lost all feeling of it in the accident as well. He limped over to the middle of the camp, before stopping at the pile of prey. He bent down and nosed through it, looking for something to fill him up. The smell of vole met him, and he quickly found it, grabbing it between his teeth. He didn't feel like bothering to take it anywhere, so he swung his head and dragged it away from the rest of the prey,before dropping it. He let his hind paw fold under him, and gripped the prey between his paws. He lowered his head and took a bite, chewing the meat slowly as he thought about how he would probably end up with the elders. Did the leader even KNOW what was the worst thing about elders? It wasn't the constant ticks, or the fresh bedding, or even snappy behavior! They were always catered on, day and night. Hungry, you got a piece of fresh kill. You itchy, make an apprentice get mousebile for you. Need to cross a river? There will always be a warrior there to help you swim. It almost sickened him all the attention they got. And of course, it was a chore that no one wanted. But matter how much you protested, they always insisted that you get helped with every little thing you need to do. It how elders got their reputation for being snappy. They don't WANT to be helped. They just want to be left alone to live their lives out any jolly good way they want to. They were always fine before they became elders, why weren't they allowed to take care of themselves now? He snorted as he finished the last of his vole. He wouldn't even have old days stories to tell when he joined their ranks. Most were probably sentanced there unwillingly in the first place. Why shouldn't he? Finished, he pushed aside the empty carcass, pausing as tremors went through the ground. Everyone seemed to be gathering around High Rock. He flicked his ears as he rose back up to his paws, his legs happy for the change of position. Probably another stupid announcment. It couldn't possibly be time for the apprentice ceremony yet.Curious in spite of himself, he sprint-limped up to the circle, sniffing for a familiar cat. He smelled pawkit in the middle of the circle, most likely playing around. Spotting Dungeonflare, he padded up, sitting down with their pelts brushing. He didn't like it, but it was the only way he could understand his vocal vibrations. What did she say? he asked, wanting to know what was going on. He waited, but there was no response from the warrior. Impatient and think he had not been heard, he started to repeat his question...
But apparently the older cat had just been listening to what the leader was saying, for he suddenly, turned his head and nudged the kit unwillingly forward. "Go on! she just said your names!" Fadedkit's eyes widened as his claws slid out, ready to root themselves in the ground and hold on for dear life. No, it couldn't be........................

Fate had arrived.

[;;Mousefang;;]

This bio belongs to me and me only. If stolen I will harm you with great force D<

Cat's Name:
Mousefang

Cat's Rank:
Windclan Deputy[really is on GC]

Cat's Age:
30moons

Personality:
Mousefang his personality is very unique. He is not a player and will not lead other she-cats on if he has a mate. He is kind and sweet to all unless you anger him. His anger is like a black cloud. It follows him about and he tends to snap at others. Just lets say do not mess with him when his mood is foul. Otherwise he can walk about camp and chatter with each cat over something or another. He always has a topic at hand and a quick conversation starter. Very outgoing and charming to everyone. He helps around the clan like he should and settles down to listen to any complaints given. After a complaint is given he does his best to fix it and please the cat. He loves to please everyone and thats sort of tough sometimes but he does it. His voice is smooth and very entrancing. At times he can be a bit bossy but only if you have snapped at him or said something mean. He is not afraid to stand up for others simply telling the cat just to stop it or they will be face with a punishment. The punishment simply is just doing extra things around the camp or hunting to provide more food.

Description:
He has a slim short spiky gray fur and wide bright blue eyes. Large gray paws with long sharp ivory claws ready to hunt or battle at any chance. His claws are unusually thick and very hardy. It is hard to break one unless you physically bite it with hard chomp. A slim athletic figure he is quick and smart. A silver gray belly and a dark gray body. Small triangle shaped ears set on his head just right. The placement of his lovely ears make it simple for him to listen and be able to hear whatever he wants. A long smooth luscious tail. Broad powerful shoulders and a good amount of muscle. Belly always pressed low to the ground unless he cares to stand tall. Very small but quick on his large paws. His short spiky fur is smooth and sometimes after a good run through briar's is ragged and torn in pieces making him appear tough. Light whiskers feather from his face like a patch of bristles. Dark gray eyebrows over his light gray face. His mouth is small and cute looking and he has a brilliant smile. Two small fangs poke out making him look fierce.

History:
The brave tom that now lives in Windclan had always been Windclan. Long ago he was left on the riverbank of Riverclan, his parents where Windclan. His mother gray with green eyes his father black with blue eyes. His own blue were open his brother Gray beside him crying. His mother had nudged him and meowed in his ear," Farewell Mouse." With that his parents ran off into the forest. A Riverclan patrol found them but instead of taking them in left them on Windclans borders. Shootingstar had taken in the kits as the clan was needing more cats as two warriors had disappeared with their kits. Mouse had managed to squeak his and his brothers name out. Shootingstar named them Mousekit and Graykit. Instantly befriending most of the other kits they played and played. Never caring why their parents left them. Their world was perfect it seemed even without parents to guide the. Soon they were named apprentices Mousepaw and Graypaw. Mentors where the stern Hareleap and the sweet Mistynight. They trained hard and proved to their mentors that their bloodline even not clanborn was loyal to this clan. They grew into young handsome toms all she-cats eyes on them.They received their warrior names Mousefang and Graythroat after a huge battle with Shadowclan. Mousefangs mentor Mistynight was killed and he watched it in horror. Running to her side he was shoved aside by her mate Thornbush. Mousepaw had turned and sprung onto his mentors killer with fierce rage. Leaving some damage he soon realized his brother fought beside him. The two were smarter then the cat and soon chased him off. Shootingstar spotted this in the midst of the hectic battle. The next day they held their vigils. Then the incident happen an incident no one speaks of. A Windclan elder had approached them one day and told them that they were not loners. They were the missing kits of the two warriors who ran off long ago. Indeed they were pure Windclan blood.Only now Mousefang was left alone his brother now a loner as he felt betrayed by his clan. He was low on the rankings once more but fought hard never giving up till he proved himself worthy. Perhaps that was why Shystar had announced him deputy.

Roleplay:
With wide bright blue eyes he studied his apprentice. What was running through her mind. He wondered over it as silence fell upon them. His heart thudded in his chest and just wanted to nudge her. To make sure she wasn't in shock or perhaps passed out.
He sighed as the question formed. Speak of the former leader surely he did. Or did he not? The question haunted him he was unable to think of a time he had spoken of the past leader. Perhaps it was that he himself never grieved for the leader. Simply pushed on to become the best deputy he could for Shystar.

At the time he was needed. Needed to show the clan the way home. He had been shaken but taken charge. He mumbled a few words to the body before hurrying off to help calm the frazzled Shystar who seemed anxious over being the new leader.His heart lurched in his chest as he knew why.

They never spoke of Flamestar because of how horrible the journey had been. Kits taken by hawks and his clanmates drowning or moving to a new clan. Shaking away the cold shiver he began to form the words. "We don't speak of him for a good reason. Each memory we have of him leads us to think of the horrible journey we faced. Kits were lost, clanmates died. It was bad Breezepaw." His body began to warm once more but the chill remained on his nose it seemed.

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[Raintalon]

Cat's Name: Moonsong/Starfrost
Cat's Rank: SkyClan deputy/SkyClan warrior
Cat's Age: 22 moons/23 moons
Personality: Moonsong is usually calm and caring, though her gaze can pierce like a claw. Overprotective. When angry, you can expect death or serious injuries in her fury./Starfrost is caring, and would've become medicine cat if he hadn't let his little brother take that path. Like Moonsong,is deadly when angry.
Description: Moonsong is Silver with slightly darker spots, and blue eyes that reflect ice shards in battle. She has one shredded ear, the tip of her tail is gone, she has a large scar across her belly, three scars on her front right paw, one scar over her left eye, and her left back leg has a HUGE scar all along it. Proof of a hard life./Starfrost is a silver torbie(Tortoiseshell tabby) with a large scar running all around his neck.
History: Moonsong was a playful kit until her sister, Lunarkit died. After that is when she became her serious self. The RP part will explain the wounds./Starfrost was named because he was born at night on an open moor. His brother, Nightgale, was named because as soon as Starfrost was born a gale stirred up and covered the stars.
Roleplay:

Moonsong:

[blackie]

Name: Brackenpaw
Gender: Tom
Rank: Apprentice of Shadowclan
Short Description: Brackenpaw is a mottled brown tom with stunning blue-green eyes
Description:
Pelt Length/feel-His hair is medium length, however in the winter it tends to be longer than usual. It keeps him warm in the winter, however in the warmer weather it can be a burden to carry around. Sometimes he gets over heated. If a human hand were to touch the fur of Brackenpaw, it would have a sleek, silky feel because of his diet which consists of fish, and other water beings.

Pelt color-His pelt consists of many shades of brown. The darkest shade is like a black that takes of most of his pelt, however it breaks up into lighter colors such as lighter browns, and under his chin there is a smudge of tan. Even though it cannot be seen very well. On one of his toes on each paw there are small white strands of fur. However this is only noticeable if you look closely in bright light.

Eyes-His eyes are oval and pointed on the sides. They are a little closer together than most Riverclan cats would be, however it isn't to noticeable. When you stare into his eyes, you can see the distinct colors of blue and green. The blue is like the sky, and when it mixes with the green it turns into a nice color of the ocean.

Personality:

Loyal-He does not like rouges joining into clans. He finds it silly. He does not respect cats like that and think they will only be loyal to other rouges. He also finds that cats who have forbidden loves aren't loyal to their main clan. He is a ratter and tends to tell the leader when things like this are happening. He himself doesn't strictly obey the warrior code, but small pieces of it he enforces.

Fierce-He isn't the kindest cat you will ever meet. In battle he is a powerhouse, however he isn't the brightest. He likes to go for a straight attack. He isn't the nicest to the other cats in his clan. Anyone who has the time to sit around all day and not get anything done is a cat who he will not respect. The hard workers are the cats he appreciates the most.

Charming-Believe or not, this time is quite popular with the she-cats. He thinks they are the hardest working in the clan. They have to take care of kits, they hunt, they train apprentices, he gives them the most respect. Perhaps this is why he likes the she-cats so much. He is the nicest to them, and their kits as well. Maybe that's why he is respected by she-cats from most clans.

Flirt-What tom doesn't flirt once in awhile? He is a good looking tom. Sometimes he uses it to his advantage. However he knows where to cross the line. Yes he is popular with the she-cats, but he has yet to take on a full mate. He says that flirting with another makes a she-cats personality come out. That's how he knows whether or not she's worth keeping.

Headstrong-Brackenpaw is still considered young. He has always been a headstrong kind of tom. He never thinks he is wrong. When it comes to the clan, everything he does is the right thing. He generally doesn't go to war , but even given advice, he will not take it. He knows he looks good and tends to use it to his advantage. Even if he is "ALWAYS" right and "NEVER" wrong he is still a loyal cat to Shadowclan

history
Kit hood- He grew up with a Mother known as Birdcloud, she was a gray she-cat with lovely brown markings, and a father known as Bramblesun, a mottled brown tom with fiery amber eyes. He was lucky enough to have two other siblings, a sister named Dawnkit, now known as Dawnpaw, and an older brother named Rockfall. He always stuck around his brother, it was cool to have an older brother who was a warrior. He knew that he wouldn't have any other siblings since his mother had always talking about her frail joints, and his father had always talked about is horrid eye sight. The thought of being a kit and your own father couldn't play with you was rather disappointing. However when the young tom turned 4 moons old, he would gain the personality that no cat would want to see. Arrogant, mean, fierce, all because he would lose someone who meant so much to him, that when he died it was the most tragic event that the young tom would have to go through.

When he turned four moons old, Shadowclans leader talked about a threat coming from the possible clan across the marshes. Also known as Riverclan. Shadowclan's sent Rockfall, Soulpaw, and a few others out as a warning. Apparently they had been crossing boarders in order to get prey that the clan apparently needed to stay alive and be one of the four clans in the forest. Out of the group one didn't come back. The one cat that at the time Brackenkit feared losing in that battle. Rockfall had been killed by a Shadowclan warrior. Yes his death was avenged but not in the right way. When Brackenkit got this news, he unsheathed his claws and promised that his death wouldn't have been for nothing.

Apprentice hood- He trains for his brother Rockfall. He can't stand to see or hear all the cats still talk about this battle even though it has been 6 moons since. He wants to be a cat like Rockfall. He knows his arrogance to the cats and cats who are weaker then him wont get him anywhere but he has to try. Maybe one day he will turn out like his brother. A cat that would be the first in battle just to protect his clan. His brothers last words were."Let me die first so the clan and its warriors and apprentices stay safe." He indeed was the first to die, and he will be the only cat that he ever loves to die again. Maybe one day he will be the first one to die for the safety of his clan. Maybe he will realize that a clan works together its all one unit. Not a bunch of separate ones. He trains today to be strong, to get the cat who killed his brother. However with revenge swimming in his mind, he will get no where

Roleplay

"What are you doing out so early Brackenpaw?" His blue-green eyes stared at her. Prehaps for a moment to long. Up and down, he traced the outline of her body, ignoring her for the moment. Did she really remember Rockfall? His eyes turned to slits, not anger, but sorrow. Even though it had been 6 moons since his death, the memories of him were stronger then anything. He still respected him, and no one else. That was how this tom worked."I could ask you the same don't you think?" He spat and wrapped his brown tail around his paws as he sat straight up watching the sun rise.

He gave her the cold shoulder. What a stupid question. Didn't she know that he did this every morning. It didn't matter if he wasn't home. He would wake up every morning before the sun rose, look to the sky and find his brother's star. He knew what one it was. That was easy. It was the one right next to the star that the clan leaders called the North star. Apparently the four north stars represented Shadow, Thunder,Wind, and River, the founders of the clan. Rockfalls was right near there. He knew it. He was more respected as a warrior then anyone else. At least, that's what Brackenpaw thought. It was the star below the four, there were a few other stars above his, and around, but Rockfalls, his was right there. He could point it out to everyone. He would watch the star fade, and the great burning fire take it's place. He knew his brother was still watching. Except now, Brackenpaw could not watch him. He did the same thing, yet the silly she-cat didn't know this yet?

He stood up straighter now. He was much larger then he had been 6 moons ago. A mirror image, that is what he was. A mirror image of his brother. Same eyes, same pelt. Everything was the same. He could have sworn that one day, he heard his leader call him Rockfall.He would train each day until the two moons from now when he got his warrior ceremony. Once he got it, he would dig his claws into the warrior who killed his brother. He would dig his claws into the cats throat. Then he would watch them die....

"Brackenkit, Come here now!" The voice boomed across the clearing. His large build stood above the others. His tail whipped back and forth. He wasn't angry, he was worried. He knew something that no one else did.

Skipping across the clearing Brackenkit looked up. He had been in a frisky game of tag."Hold on guys, my big brother wants me." He always bragged about him being his brother. Who didn't want a brother like Rockfall.

"Dewstar wants me to go on a battle patrol against Riverclan. Apparently they are stealing our prey again. However, I sense something wrong. Like Riverclan had a reason to do this. I can't promise blood wont be shed. However I promised Dewstar I would risk my life first before the others. I am the head of the battle line. You my little luck charm are to protect the clan if I do not come back." The tom bent down and gave the top of the kits head a swift lick." I will be quick I promise..."

Brackenkit just nodded and watched him go. A few other warriors were with him. Oakstorm was one, Soulpaw, and another. He sat outside the clan entrance waiting patiently for his return. His tail flicked back and forth. However, he never came. Rain started to fall in sheets, it was like bullets penetrating the skin. He whimpered as the lightning flashed. Almost every cat but him told him to go back into the dens were to keep in but he refused.

"Come little Brackenkit."Birdflight mewed. "You will catch a chill. What will Rockfall think when he can't be your mentor because your ill until your ready to be a warrior?"

Brackenkit glared."He said he would be back quickly. I am not moving until he comes back!" He looked to see his mother shake her head and go into the nursery where Dawnkit was as well."He will be back.... wont he?" No one was able to answer. A brown tom came in as the lightning crashed. A she-cat followed, a frown on her face."Oakstorm died?" He thought the large tom was Rockfall who dragged in the body.

Brackenkit sprinted forward and came face to face with who he thought was his great brother. He always had like to make an entrance."Rock-!

"I'm not your brother Brackenkit."The tom turned around, Oakstorm grimaced. His eyes fell on the dead body."That there....is Rockfall."

Brackenkit whimpered. His eyes filled with tears for the first time."NO! Thats not Rockfall!" His body was dragged to the center. By then the rain had stopped. Brackenkit nosed the toms flank. When he looked up, another star was in the sky."Who ever did this to you.... I wont forgive them!" His eyes looked directly at Stringpaw."SAVE HIM!!!! You and your mentor save him!" He wailed. However in the back of his mind, he knew there was nothing that they could do.

Brackenpaw sighed. He missed him so much."I miss Rockfall so much. I just wish he was still around...."His memory of that night was so distinct. He could see the sadness in everyone's eyes. Rockfall could have been deputy one day. Did the tom know that he was going to die that night. His eyes flashed, and he looked back at Stringflight."Do you think that he knew it was his time? Do you think he knew that he was going to die that night?

[Raintalon]

Cat's Name: Moonsong
Cat's Rank: SkyClan deputy
Cat's Age: 22 moons
Personality: Moonsong is usually calm and caring, though her gaze can pierce like a claw. Overprotective. When angry, you can expect death or serious injuries in her fury.
Description: Moonsong is Silver with slightly darker spots, and blue eyes that reflect ice shards in battle. She has one shredded ear, the tip of her tail is gone, she has a large scar across her belly, three scars on her front left paw, one scar over her left eye, and her left back leg has a HUGE scar all along it. Proof of a hard life.
History: Moonsong was a playful kit until her sister, Lunarkit died. After that is when she became her serious self. The RP part will explain the wounds.
Roleplay:

Moonsong:


"Hey, Starfrost, I'm getting bored hunting all the dumb mice that just stand there licking their filthy brown pelts with their ugly little dirty pink tounges. Why don't we go after some tasty rabbits down by the bottom of the gorge?" I could see from the moment the words left my mouth that he doubted my plan would pull through. But he still agreed, although grudgingly, to my idea. After all, I was the deputy.

"Well then, let's get a move on! I'm hungry for prey that actually moves around!" I said when he nodded.

I bounded down the stone path carved by our ancestors, and our ancestor's ancestors, my paws hitting the rocky ground lightly after each leap. I really don't understand exactly what happened; I think I got a little overconfident on the third jump down. My back paws landed squarely on the rock while my front landed on air. I fell down, my left back leg getting caught in between two rocks. Instantly, blood began pouring out of the wound.

Starfrost screamed,"Moonsong!" and began running down to save me. He was too late. I heard a cracking noise, and looked at my leg just in time to see one of the stones break. I streched out my left front paw to catch myself, and it tumbled under me. Some rocks that had loosened hit my right ear. Then, something worse happened as a rock landed on the end of my tail, but I was going so fast that it ripped the end off.

I was nearing the bottom now; I thought that it would surely lead to my death. Until my head tumbled under me, and recieved a nasty scratch over my eye. I came to the bottom siding on my belly, and as Starfrost bent down beside me I closed my eyes and prepared for the end.

5 hours later:

"Moonsong, are you awake?" I couldn't hear as well, but it was still Starfrost.

"You've lost a lot of blood, you should rest some more." That was the medicine cat and Starfrost's brother; Nightgale.

"Okay..." I said faintly, and closed my eyes once more.

[Swifttail]

Name: Swifttail

Clan: Thunder

Age: 30 moons

Gender: She-cat

Peltage: Swifttail is an orange ginger she-cat with blazing green eyes. The tip of her tail is white, and so is one of her paws, her back right. Her claws are really sharp, and so are her teeth. Swifttail's head is perfect, along with her paws, and ears. Swifttail's eyes attract the toms, but she already has a mate.

Personality:
Helpful
Swifttail is extremely helpful. She will help any cat, Clanborn or not. She can always solve an arguement, she has never encountered one she can't. Swifttail tries not to argue with anyone, if she does, she always makes the other cat see reason. She is also a big help to her med. cat, because she can always get cats to eat nasty herbs.
Kind
Swifttail is kind to all cats- except intruders. She hates them. But, Swifttail always tries to be nice to cats. If they annoy her, she just grits her teeth and shows them why they are wrong or whatused to impress apprentices from her Clan and others.
Swifttail dreams of being ThunderClan leader someday.
ever. She also is very kind to kits.
Tough
Swifttail can withstand things you wouldn't believe. That is why she is a valuble cat in battles. Any time she gats a scratch or scrape or anything like that, she ignores it and goes back to what she is doing.
She is a bit short-tempered.

History: When Swifttail was a kit, she was born into the Clan. Her mother was Lizardpelt. Her father was Wolfshadow.
When Swifttail was an apprentice, she trained the hardest. She was the best hunter, and she could swim well. Which is obviously odd for a ThunderClan cat. She is an amazing climber, and she


IC: Swifttail padded out of the warriors den. The camp was quiet. Suddenly, a yowl came from across the clearing.
"Swifttail!" Swifttail spun around, but no cat was there. An apprentice stared at her funnily.
"I thought someone called my name!" She spat.
Swifttail walked out of camp glanceing around. Suddenly, she heard a rustle in the bracken. Out stepped a starry cat. Swifttail stared in disbelief. A StarClan cat?
But then, just like the cat had appeared, it vanished. After it, Swifttail's name was echoed about the forest.
So that was who was calling my name, she thought.
She ran back to camp, slowing at the entrance. She stepped through the thorns.
The apprentice that had been staring at her earlier was play fighting with a friend. As she passed, it whispered in the other apprentice's ear, another tom, and he also stared at her. Swifttail just gritted her teeth as she passed.
The sun was low in the sky, so Swifttail walked back to the warriors den. Suddenly, she felt weight being pushed on her from behind. That stupid apprentice and his friend! She whipped around, furious, and then once more saw the starry cat. It growled, then disappeared.
Feeling odd, Swifttail curled up into her nest. She dreamed that the star cat was a leader from another Clan. She took it's last life.

It had been four moons since Swifttail dreamed of the star cat. She hadn't seen the cat since. Tonight was the Gathering Night.
As Swifttail walked away from the log leading to the Island, she noticed the ShadowClan cats were being a bit shifty.
Nothing new, she thought to herself. But something seemed worse than usual.
There was a yowl from the Great Tree, and the cats in conversations broke apart to listen to the leaders. Swifttail saw a cat from ShadowClan that she didn't recognize. He spoke first.
"Hawkstar is dead." he announced. Shocked mews rippled around the clearing. "I have taken his place," the tom continued. "I am now Moonstar, leader of ShadowClan."
There was a chorus from ShadowClan, supporting their new leader. The other Clans' were silent. Then, Moonstar went on, "Hawkstar died without anyone able to see why. We are mourning for his loss."
Then, Swifttail realized something. It was a Clan leader she had killed in her dream. She did not speak, just waited until the Gathering was over. Then she returned to camp with her Clanmates.
OOC: This is more like a story, but it's all I could think of. Sorry.