Jul 30, 2018 0:44:36 GMT
Post by bear on Jul 30, 2018 0:44:36 GMT
age • twenty eight moons
gender • cis male
sexuality • bisexual
clan • thunderclan
allegiance • a black smoke maine coon tom with yellow eyes
full • a built, large, tom due to being a maine coon. his coloring is that of a black smoke, although he has no white anywhere on his body. with this comes yellow eyes, long whiskers, and a dark colored nose.
positives (at least three)
negatives (at least three)
etc. (can be fun facts, likes/dislikes, neutral traits, etc)
please remove non-applicable family members. behind the bullet please choose/replace the appropriate title (sibling > brother) and if more than one, create another line for it
mother • spots, kittypet, cis female, unknown.
father • ruddy, kittypet, cis male, unknown.
siblings • unknown siblings.
adoptive mother • gooseberry, rouge, cis female, deceased.
mentor • larkbelly, cis male, alive.
tw animal cruelty and neglect.
pixie. that's how this whole thing started, was with a small black she-cat named pixie. your mothers' brief, although good, friend. she came around during the early years of your mothers pregnancy with her first litter, you being a part of it. she wanted to check in on your mother, and your father, though your mother was her main concern. she offered your mother company, and conversation, only to leave at night to wherever it was that she called home; often it was around the same time your mother was called back in.
only a couple weeks into the visit did your parents twoleg approach pixie. but, the approach wasn't a friendly one. your mother, and your father, watched as she was picked up and put into a burlap sack after a few soft strokes got her accompanied to human touch. your parents watched as the twoleg put the burlap sack containing pixie into the monster, and drove off. a couple hours later and the twoleg returned with a wet burlap sack and no pixie. it was assumed that their twoleg drowned her, but neither of your parents could figure out why or what she had done except that they knew their twoleg didn't do this to any cat; only a black cat. it made them scared that one of their kittens might be drowned if they turned out to be black or relatively dark furred too.
that's when gooseberry came into the picture. gooseberry was a rouge who lived out in the oak-tree forest [as this is not the two-leg place that borders shadowclan, or shadowclan's pine forest territory]. occasionally gooseberry would come into their yards, make conversation, eat some of whatever the two-legs put out, and leave back into the forest she came from. no one knew where she came from, though there was speculation that she was born a stray who left to the woods for better sources of food and less worry about being caught as she didn't want to be a kittypet although she didn't mind the food.
your parents sought her out for her help, and her advice. gooseberry spun them tales about how two-legs were superstitious of black cats, so the assumption that pixie was drowned was correct. that two-legs didn't like black cats, and they were hard adopt because of that. that, even if their twoleg didn't give a black cat the same fate as pixie, that they may never have a home to call their own; left to live with their parents, which wasn't a bad thing, but your parents wanted you to have a comfy life of your own.
armed with this information, your parents asked if gooseberry could take any of their black kits to live with her in the forest. surprisingly, she readily agreed. she claimed she always wanted kittens of her own, and wouldn't mind taking in a kitten or two from your parents if they turned out to be black cats. but, your parents didn't see her again until the evening when you and your littermates arrived. she claimed she had been getting a nest and such built, and taken herbs from some old senile cat that roams the forest to kickstart milk production.
you, unfortunately, were the only black cat of your litter. your sisters were torties, your brothers were tabbies or some other sort of smoke. but you, you were the only black smoke. no white on your body, which could have saved you. only hours later were you taken by gooseberry, out into the forest, to her makeshift den. you lived a cozy life for your first two or three moons with her. you met your parents a few times, though you only knew them as "ruddy" and "spots"; gooseberry didn't tell you that they were your biological parents until she moved you away because she didn't want you to get attached. your parents were okay with it this way.
at about two moons you were weaned, and after your third moon gooseberry told you to get moving- other times you were carried by her. your adoptive mother, the only one you knew to call "mom", had said she was growing tired of the mandatory interactions with your parents. she enjoyed the kittypet company, but she detested the fact that it had grown to be a mandatory part of her life. so, she wanted to leave, and find a new place to lay down at night.
this place didn't come for a long time. the first moon or so of being considered a "rouge" was stressful, but you at least got half of whatever was killed by gooseberry and got to get that half before she got hers since she continued her hunt. you got cuffed around your ears when you ate the whole thing. she'd chide you in that motherly tone although laced with hostility, "lamb, you ate my half! what did i tell you? if there would be more, you'd get some of it. no patience, i swear," she'd say each time, although never the same wording.
lamb was your name. although it wasn't fitting for a scrawny black maine coon, gooseberry said it was fitting for what you were named after. whenever she told you stories of how you came to be, she'd say you were "like a lamb to a slaughter". innocent, not knowing the dangers that would have been waiting for you had you stayed with your birth family which is why they let her take you in, and named you "lamb" appropriately after that saying as she said it fit the situation you had been in.
you learned to hunt around five months, although your primary source of food still came from whatever gooseberry would scrape up. she said you weren't very good at it because you were clumsy and your aim was off and that you still had a lot to learn, but when the two of you weren't in a dire need for food she'd let you try your paws at it again and again to let you get better at it. it wasn't until you were about eight months old did you get the hang of it and had a fairly good success rate, but gooseberry was still better at it having been a seasoned hunter. she was better at hunting than she was at fighting, and ironically you'd become better at fighting than you'd be at hunting.
fighting more or less became a way of life. you and her would occasionally stumble through something or someone's territory, and she'd get a good lashing for it. sometimes it was you that got the lashing if gooseberry wasn't around or didn't block you quick enough. whenever you got a lashing, a fight would break out from her intervening. you learned how to use your teeth and claws to defend yourself and later her as she aged. you didn't know any moves or strategies like a clan cat would, but it was enough that by the time you were about seven months you could at least keep yourself from getting the worst end of it. you only got better with it as you aged, excelling in it at about thirteen months. you became better at it than gooseberry, but gooseberry was getting old and she was getting tired.
it was around your sixteenth or so moon that you entered what the four clans called "rouge lands" with gooseberry. wide fields with a river for a fresh source of water. it bordered singed woods that led to the "sundrowned place", oak-tree forest that had a group of cats known as "thunderclan" inhabiting it was north. north of the rouge lands where you settled with gooseberry was more wide plains that had a group of cats known as "windclan". west of the clan, and your home, was the horseplace but gooseberry didn't let you go near there. kittypets, she said, and she didn't want to deal with any more of those.
it was only a month later when new leaf went into full swing that gooseberry had gone missing from the makeshift shelter you and her had made. a few days later you found her body, she had died from some stray fox when she had gone hunting. you weren't sure what to do with yourself, you had never been on your own before. you grieved for her of course, for a few days, but your rumbling stomach forced you to leave her side to hunt for food. your search led you into the singed forest, and you found yourself being pulled to the oak-tree forest where thunderclan resided. it reminded you of your first months, the place you had considered home before your travels began.
you went into their territory, regardless of knowing that they may chase you out, just so you could have a brief moment in a place that reminded you of what home had been. that brief moment because longer than you expected as a patrol found you, and you gave yourself up. you asked them if you could stay, just for a little while, but the patrol took that as you requesting to join the clan so you were marched to their camp.
you didn't really have any intentions of joining the clan that day when you trespassed, but after a talk with the leader it was a decision that you came to with their permission. that oak-tree forest that reminded you of home became your home as an apprentice ceremony was held for you. your name went from "lamb" to "wolfpaw", and you thought it was a rather odd but interesting name. it fell in place with all the names the cats had around you. naming rituals would be something you had to get use to.
larkbelly, a senior warrior who was well-versed in clan life, was assigned to you to teach you the ropes. he explained to you that, while you were way older than most apprentices and you were about the age of a young warrior, they wanted to make sure you knew the warrior code- primarily. they also wanted to teach you how to fight properly, and wanted to make sure the hunting skills you were taught were also considered proper. it took about four moons, your hunting techniques were corrected but you still weren't as good as other warriors. it was fighting that you excelled in, becoming one of the better fighters in the clan. partially because of skill but also because of your build that began to fill out. the sporadic, and random, meals- sometimes going days without, became a bit more steady and let you gain a little weight although not much. you learned to feed the kits, the queens, the sick, and the elders before yourself. you were also more than willing to share your fresh-kill with warriors when it came your time to eat.
at twenty two moons, almost five months since you joined the clan, you were given your warrior name of "wolfcreek". -creek was an unorthodox suffix, supposedly, but it worked for such an unorthodox cat. a kittypet turned rouge turned thunderclanner was an odd case indeed. it was given to you because your nature mimicked the gentle flow of the water in a creek. you seemed like a big old cat that was bitter and stand-offish, even a bit scary, but to anyone who knew you, they knew you as a gentle giant that grew to like taking care of others. who enjoyed, and longed, for company because you never really had been alone before. who was merciful in battle, not beating other cats within an inch of their lives or killing them even if you were capable to. you wanted them to return to their families, although you knew better than to sympathize with the enemy. that was partially because of gooseberry. you didn't want to kill a cat that meant a lot to another.
wolfcreek was a name you began to like, and you began to wear it with pride. you grew out of the name "lamb" almost as quickly as you received the name "wolfpaw". and you settled well into clan life, it became something you enjoyed and you wouldn't trade it for the rouge life even if you could.