Post by !~Myst~! on Mar 23, 2010 10:25:30 GMT -5
Name: Frostbreath
Age: 12 moons
Gender: Male
Clan: Shadowclan
Rank:
Personality:
Age: 12 moons
Gender: Male
Clan: Shadowclan
Rank:
Personality:
Aggressive, sly, ruthless, but kind, understanding and forethought towards those who he considers friends.Description:
One moment he could be detached and faraway in memories, then snap back and talk with a barbed tongue towards others. Generally other cats leave him alone because they know when that when he fights he lives up to his self-proclaimed name.
He is also quick to judge and if you don't answer his questions the right way, he attacks and he doesn't do it very fairly either.
Mainly grayed pelt with small white blotches on his back. Ear was torn by a past battle with a cat much larger than him. Compact and swift on his spidery legs, and rather small for a cat of 9 moons. His canine teeth are larger than most and hang from his upper lip out.(It’s considered to be one of his most intimidating features)Clan Page Description:
Grayed pelt with white blotches, torn ear, compact and spidery legs. Smaller than most with large canine teeth.History:
His mother and father were both rogues from the streets of a twoleg city and they had to stick together to survive, then Brokenclaw was in the process of having kits. Frost was born in the middle of winter so he was brought into the world with snow about and no shelter, and little food. His father had told Brokenclaw to abandon him to the streets, but she didn’t and Frost barely survived, getting his name because of the frost that would stick to his thin fluffy pelt. It would chill him and he had been sick for the longest of times till new-leaf came about. Then when he was 4 moons old, his father was hit by a monster and killed. His mother died a moon after that because of her grief, leaving Frost to fend for himself.Rp Sample:
He’d fight anyone to make sure he would survive, and was often told before the other cat he was fighting on their last breath would describe how chilled to the bone they were fighting him. So he dubbed himself Frostbreath and wandered from the streets when he was 11 moons old and stumbled upon ShadowClan cats.
Frostbreath was stalking a rather juicy looking mouse. The first one he had seen in months, and it was already making him feel fuller just looking at it. Tentivly creeping up on the mouse, he pounced, snapping its neck in moments before it was able to squeal. Then he began to crunch the mouse on the spot, knowing none of the other wild toms would try and attack him. His reputation made him well known in the streets far and wide.
Gulping the fresh-kill rather quickly, he then took off, tired of this rarity, and hungered to be with cats like him. Quick, aggresive, strong, and plenty feared. Frostbreath knew he had a long journey ahead and let the other cats know he was going to leave. They had yowled about their good fortune for the top tom was leaving them finally.
