Post by fawnpaw on Jan 6, 2008 23:49:54 GMT -5
Other Accounts: Trickstar && Thymerunner
Name: Fawnpaw
Age (in moons): 6 moons
Clan: Thundrclan
Rank: Apprentice
Gender: Female
Appearance: Shorter, spotted fur hangs over a long body. This fur is soft and slightly springy to the touch, repelling water but not always cold. Stripes line the inside of her front legs, thick and pointed. Large, triangular ears pick up many sounds as the smaller, black encircled pink nose picks up many scents. Light orage-gold eyes are set in a small triangular face. Her fore legs are lithe and short. Large muscles in her back legs make her a good hunter, with the power to spring fast. Her tail is fairly long, almost the length of her body, with faint stripes and a dark, black tip. She is rather skinny for an apprentice but what she lacks in weight, she makes up in strength. Short whiskers curve to the shape of her small head, accented by a series of patterns on her forehead.
Personality: Fawnpaw is a strong-willed and very spirited apprentice. By Spirited I mean she is very energetic and quirky, always running off before thinking or telling someone. She is very fun to hang around with, being funny and fun as well. Her strong muscles make her a great hunter and fighter. She learns fast and can perfect moves within a matter of days. Though she is a great student, she is always acting up or running off, quite a handful for any mentor. Fawnpaw will never stop talking, as she is always asking questions and bugging other cats. She respects the older warriors immensly and usually listens to them. She has a short temper and it takes almost nothing to set her off, so she is quite like a ticking time bomb. Though she can be very gentle and kind as well. She always wants to find out more, never satisfied with "Because."
History: A spotted kit flew through the nursery, throwing up leaves and rocks, making a mess. She squeeled as another kit came up to her and started to play fight. She pummeled his belly with sheathed claws, shrieking a high pitched war cry. Soon a queen came over and scolded the two kits, telling them that they shouldn't be playing in the nursery. Fawnkit glanced sheepishly at the other kit, who gave her a broad smile. She looked back up at the queen, a question burning on the tip of her tongue.
Why can't we fight in the nursery? Is it because we made a mess? Or is it because we might disturb the other kits? Can we go play outside, or is it too cold? What was the first thing you learned when you were an apprentice? When are we going to be apprentices?
The queen just smiled and lciked Fawnkits' head, murmuring something she couldn't quite catch.
Fawnkits' tail twitched in anticipation. She crouched near the camp enterance, quiet as a mouse for once. Her mouth was turned up in the unmistakable shadow of a grin. Soon she heard it; the distant thumping of a cats paws on cry ground. She let out an excited meow and waited. Soon the first warrior burst through the camp enterance and she pounced, landing squarely on his shoulders. She started to talk, eager to hear what had happened on the dawn patrol.
Did you meet Shadowclan? Did you catch anything? What was the weather like, was it cold? Was the sunrise pretty? I cant wait to see the sunrise. Did you find any dogs? Did they hurt you?
The warrior dropped his catch, a plump magpie and reached back to gently take Fawnkit by the scruff, placing her on the ground beside him. He said something about the fact that he needed to report to Trickstar and that he had to take the freshkill to the pile. She listened in awe, watching up through light orange-gold eyes. When he finished, she piped up, stealing a glance at the magpie.
Can I take your magpie to the freshkill pile? Please, pleeeeeeease?
Fawnkit pleaded, batting her eyelashes and smiling up at him. He smilld and nodded, running off to talk with the leader. She squeeled and took the prey in her jaws, still warm and juicy. She trotted over to the freshkill pile, tail straight up in pride. She gently placed the bird in it, sitting down to admire her work.
Picture:
Name: Fawnpaw
Age (in moons): 6 moons
Clan: Thundrclan
Rank: Apprentice
Gender: Female
Appearance: Shorter, spotted fur hangs over a long body. This fur is soft and slightly springy to the touch, repelling water but not always cold. Stripes line the inside of her front legs, thick and pointed. Large, triangular ears pick up many sounds as the smaller, black encircled pink nose picks up many scents. Light orage-gold eyes are set in a small triangular face. Her fore legs are lithe and short. Large muscles in her back legs make her a good hunter, with the power to spring fast. Her tail is fairly long, almost the length of her body, with faint stripes and a dark, black tip. She is rather skinny for an apprentice but what she lacks in weight, she makes up in strength. Short whiskers curve to the shape of her small head, accented by a series of patterns on her forehead.
Personality: Fawnpaw is a strong-willed and very spirited apprentice. By Spirited I mean she is very energetic and quirky, always running off before thinking or telling someone. She is very fun to hang around with, being funny and fun as well. Her strong muscles make her a great hunter and fighter. She learns fast and can perfect moves within a matter of days. Though she is a great student, she is always acting up or running off, quite a handful for any mentor. Fawnpaw will never stop talking, as she is always asking questions and bugging other cats. She respects the older warriors immensly and usually listens to them. She has a short temper and it takes almost nothing to set her off, so she is quite like a ticking time bomb. Though she can be very gentle and kind as well. She always wants to find out more, never satisfied with "Because."
History: A spotted kit flew through the nursery, throwing up leaves and rocks, making a mess. She squeeled as another kit came up to her and started to play fight. She pummeled his belly with sheathed claws, shrieking a high pitched war cry. Soon a queen came over and scolded the two kits, telling them that they shouldn't be playing in the nursery. Fawnkit glanced sheepishly at the other kit, who gave her a broad smile. She looked back up at the queen, a question burning on the tip of her tongue.
Why can't we fight in the nursery? Is it because we made a mess? Or is it because we might disturb the other kits? Can we go play outside, or is it too cold? What was the first thing you learned when you were an apprentice? When are we going to be apprentices?
The queen just smiled and lciked Fawnkits' head, murmuring something she couldn't quite catch.
Fawnkits' tail twitched in anticipation. She crouched near the camp enterance, quiet as a mouse for once. Her mouth was turned up in the unmistakable shadow of a grin. Soon she heard it; the distant thumping of a cats paws on cry ground. She let out an excited meow and waited. Soon the first warrior burst through the camp enterance and she pounced, landing squarely on his shoulders. She started to talk, eager to hear what had happened on the dawn patrol.
Did you meet Shadowclan? Did you catch anything? What was the weather like, was it cold? Was the sunrise pretty? I cant wait to see the sunrise. Did you find any dogs? Did they hurt you?
The warrior dropped his catch, a plump magpie and reached back to gently take Fawnkit by the scruff, placing her on the ground beside him. He said something about the fact that he needed to report to Trickstar and that he had to take the freshkill to the pile. She listened in awe, watching up through light orange-gold eyes. When he finished, she piped up, stealing a glance at the magpie.
Can I take your magpie to the freshkill pile? Please, pleeeeeeease?
Fawnkit pleaded, batting her eyelashes and smiling up at him. He smilld and nodded, running off to talk with the leader. She squeeled and took the prey in her jaws, still warm and juicy. She trotted over to the freshkill pile, tail straight up in pride. She gently placed the bird in it, sitting down to admire her work.
Picture:
