Post by willowfoot on Aug 28, 2014 15:42:26 GMT -5
Name: Fennelpaw, later Fenneltail for his agility
Age: Seven moons
Gender:
Tomcat
Allegiance:
GrassClan
Picture: Right here.
Appearance: Fennelpaw is a lithe, light-golden tom with green eyes. He has a dash of white on his chest, while the bottom of his muzzle is also white. His tail is also unusually long and rather disproportionate to the rest of his body, but he has better balance that way.
Personality: Fennelpaw is known as being endlessly optimistic, always seeing the bright side of every situation. He doesn't believe in evil and is confident that if one looks closely enough, they would be able to see the good side of every cat. True to his word, Fennelpaw is very friendly with everybody, though this can make him come off as naive. The apprentice is not a fan of violence, though he will grudgingly fight when ordered to.
Despite his carefree demeanor, Fennelpaw is also surprisingly stubborn when he needs to be, especially when his notions of right and wrong are violated. He is a committed apprentice and a loyal one, too, and is willing to die for those he loves if it comes to that.
History: Fennelpaw was born in the middle of leaf-fall to the pretty she-cat Honeyface. Unfortunately, his mother died early on in Fennelkit's life as she had lost far too much blood during the kitting, and therefore he and his sister were raised under the watchful ministrations of the other queens in the nursery at that time.
His sister, Tansykit, had been weak and runty from the start, and at the age of four moons old at the height of leafbare, both Fennelkit and Tansykit were infected by a harsh bout of whitecough that nearly killed the two of them. They managed to survive just barely, though it was noted that afterwards Tansykit became slightly asthmatic. After their near-brush with death, Fennelkit became fiercely protective of his beloved sister.
Despite the fact that the two of them were eventually separated by opposing borders, Fennelkit, now Fennelpaw, still loves his sister dearly and always anticipates Gatherings, where he can meet up with his littermate once more.
RP Sample: Swanpaw could see that StormClan had been the first ones to arrive. Scurrying ahead of SmokeClan's group, Swanpaw was soon trotting onto the Gathering island, ears pricked and eyes wide. Despite the fact that he was a senior apprentice, the sheer immensity of the clearing and the number of cats present never ceased to amaze him.
The weather hinted of rain. Swanpaw settled himself comfortably on a nice, thick patch of clumped grass and wound his tail around his paws, fluffing out his fur in preparation of the oncoming weather; rain never truly bothered him due to the thickness of his white pelt, but some sixth sense warned him that it would be a fierce onslaught. He gazed around the clearing and couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the cats of StormClan; strangely enough, they seemed quite thin, and on some data he could clearly see the ribs through their pelts. Some cat near him even jerked their head down and coughed harshly, and Swanpaw flinched away as the expelled air nudged at his fur, swiftly getting to his feet and searching for a different place to sit.
He spotted a clump of the two Clans' apprentices and waved his tail in brief gesture of greeting as he sat down within the group. He watched with head tilted as the others chattered amongst themselves - like starlings, he recalled the term - and enjoyed guessing at what topics they were talking about. At one point, however, one of the StormClan apprentices - Amberpaw, if he remembered correctly - let out a harsh sneeze as a raindrop fell onto her nose. At first Swanpaw dismissed the gesture, but then a very strange scent, originating from the aforementioned apprentice, wafted to his nose.
Frowning, Swanpaw leaned in surreptitiously and took a quick whiff at her pelt, and nearly recoiled at the sour stench. For some reason it was vaguely familiar; he searched his mind for the possible source of this memory and finally settled upon the painful reckoning of Laurelkit, his sister that had died at less than a moon old. A very similar sour scent had come from her very pelt when she had been dying of whitecough! Was Morningstar bringing sick cats to the Gathering? Not only could whitecough easily advance to greencough or even blackcough, but SmokeClan themselves were also in danger of catching it from StormClan if they weren't careful.
He was about to sign to Amberpaw to ask if she was sick when unexpectedly, all the cats in the clearing turned as one to face the leaders; Swanpaw looked as well and realized that the Gathering was beginning. He settled down into a more comfortable position and mentally steeled himself as the rain began falling in huge sheets; it was as if the river itself was tumbling from the clouds.
Everything went smoothly until unexpectedly, some announcement of Morningstar's caused a collective response of shock to ripple through the clearing, and Swanpaw blinked in surprise, having forgot to ask someone to translate the spoken words to him. He did notice, however, that even the calm-faced Owlstar's claws sank slightly into the leader's tree, and knew that Morningstar's request had to be something drastic. He thought of the skinny cats in usually well-fed StormClan and chanced a guess that StormClan's leader was most likely asking for territory; at the thought of this, he bared his teeth and curled his lip up into a snarl at the StormClan apprentices.
Check 1: [x] Leah
Check 2: [x] Cobalt
