![[s].x.[p].x.[e].x.[l].x.[l] Avatar](http://infinitum-nihi.net/categories/Full%20Metal%20Alchemist/007.gif)
Post by [s].x.[p].x.[e].x.[l].x.[l] on Jan 25, 2008 0:06:33 GMT -5
Other Accounts: Rin Co.
Name: Frostberry
Age (in moons): 13 moons
Clan: RiverClan
Rank: Queen
Gender: She-cat
Appearance: Frostberry is a short-haired Chartreux-Tabby mix. Her pelt is a rich, smoky gray. Around her muzzle, and on the tips of the backs of her forelegs and back legs, a paler gray, not quite silver, tinges the fur there. Her build is lean, but not to the point of looking unhealthy. She has never been able to be described as "plump", even in new-leaf and green-leaf, but her health is reflected in the sheen of her fur.
For such a young she-cat, Frostberry's features are fairly developed. Her legs are long, and her paws have almost completely lost their kit-like pudginess. Frostberry's tail is long and thin, but it sticks out at an odd angle, as if once broken and never fully healed.
The most stunning feature of Frostberry would have to be her brilliant green eyes, that seem to burn through anything she looks at. She came to the area with a string of ripe red berries around her neck, which she replaces with the new ones she can find whenever the old berries become dry and wrinkled.
Personality: Though it may often come up as something she doesn't particularly enjoy doing, Frostberry devotes herself to being a good warrior for the Clan, and sticking to the warrior code.
She is a bit of the motherly type, and though she currently is pregnant; she wishes she wasn't though. She is looking forward to the right tom;
"I'll not have my kits being without a fantastic father ever again,"
;That may be some of the only times she sounds much older than she actually is. Most of the time, she has an uplifting laugh, and eyes that most often sparkle with mischief. She has a carefree nature and is quite enjoyable to be around.
Though she sticks to the warrior code as best she can, often when Frostberry is fighting of hunting, she wishes she is somewhere else, or gets distracted by thinking, and lets her foe get away easily. She would rather be thinking than looking at fish int he water, and she longs for an intellectual conversation with another understanding cat, instead of tearing through the flesh of some she-cat that may be a lot like her, or some tom who has kits to take care of.
This is not to say that she doesn't pack a bite; she will fight for her Clan and she will fight hard. Though this is yet to be determined, since we have not seen anything of this yet, but most of her Clanmates think that she would put her kits before her Clan, and they see this as a weakness.
Despite all of this, Frostberry follows the warrior code more than her own heart and instinct. The habit of always doing what the warrior code says she should most often wins her over, and though she doesn't much like this about herself, it is something she cannot change, no matter how hard she struggles.
Most of the time she is pretty easygoing, but if someone plucks a string of hers that she would rather have untouched, she will spring up and give whoever angered her a piece of her mind - not something you'd like, especially when most cats feel so downhearted when she stalks away without looking back, twitching her tail pointedly. Frostberry hides being pregnant well.
History: Bloomingbreeze was a very pregnant queen, headed to the Gathering. There were traces of ThunderClan scent, and rabbit blood, on WindClan's side of the border, and the whole of the Clan was tense. Bloomingbreeze was quite feverish - no one noticed.
The medicine cat had been busy with Sunpaw, an apprentice that had been slashed by a fox's claws - Sunpaw had tried treating the wound himself, but accidentally applied nettle to the wound instead of marigold, and was now slipping in and out of consciousness in the medicine cat den while the medicine cat anxiously watches his infection.
Bloomingbreeze's mate had been left back home, because he had a small cough, and no one wanted WindClan to look weak at a Gathering. Bloomingbreeze had begged them to let him come, but the leader just shook her head and sighed.
When they were about five fox-lengths from the Horseplace, Bloomingbreeze collapsed, her breathing labored. Her eyes were wild and she mewed, "My kits! My kits! Someone help my kits!" She became more and more delirious as the moments slipped by. "Help them!" She moaned, while the Riverclan deputy licked her first kit - A pretty light tabby she-cat, with a brown cloud-like tail.
"The fox! The fox is stealing my kits!" Her pleading made less and less sense, and an apprentice was licking the other kit, a small black tom with a shimmering coat.
Bloomingbreeze became eerily still. A tremor racked her body, once and then no more. Her eyes were fixed on Silverpelt, and her speech came out as a gurgling whisper. "Frostwind, Thrushfeather." She mewed her parents' names in a barely audibly murmur. Twice more, spasms shook her fragile body, and she closed her eyes.
A single drop of rain fell on the deputy's nose, and he bounded up to Swishstar. They dipped their heads and talked in low, inaudible mutters. Swishstar raised her head and mewed, "RiverClan, this tragedy bears us two new motherless kits. Frozenstream has told me what Bloomingbreeze's final words were, and we have agreed on a decision. The firstborn kit-" Swishstar paused to point at the slim blue kit. "-Will be Frostkit, after Bloomingbreeze's mother. The black tomkit will be Thrushkit, after her father."
There was some disagreeable murmuring among the Clan - surely that was a decision for their father to make? But the leader already chose two warriors to take the two kits back to camp, who just dipped their heads and were on their way, carrying the pitifully mewling kits in their mouths.
Frostkit grew up missing her mother, and stuck to herself mostly when she was a young kit. Her brother, on the other hand, was incredibly inquisitive, always poking his nose everywhere, exploring the camp and, most importantly, the medicine cats' den. He would constantly question the medicine cat, who would just trill with laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "What, did I commit a crime?"
Frostkit was happy for her brother, who seemed to always have a job with the medicine cat, and had a few friends that he stuck with and hung out with when he wasn't sorting herbs. Frostkit, on the other hand, had no one - which, for the time being, just made her crawl farther into her shell.
Eventually Thrushkit, outspoken as he was, marched into the medicine cat's den, head held high. "I want to be a medicine cat!" He blurted out.
The medicine cat just purred, knowing he had a knack for memorizing herbs, and already seemed to hold StarClan in the highest respect. "When you're older, Thrushkit," she promised.
As it so happens, when Frostkit and Thrushkit were turned into Frostpaw and Thrushpaw, Thrushpaw was accepted as medicine cat apprentice. He excelled in all aspects of it, and the entire Clan was both impressed and excited to have such a gifted medicine cat.
Frostpaw, it so happens, got Sunstripe as a mentor. She half-blamed him for her mother's death, but she had to admit that he was a good teacher, and she learned a lot from him.
During their apprenticeship, Thrushkit was instructed to go and fetch some comfrey. Unfortunately, he was the first to discover a badger that was living on RiverClan territory. It killed him almost instantly, and he died slowly, the comfrey to ease the infections on his wounds just out of reach.
His last two words?
"I'm sorry."
Frostpaw was anguished with her brother's death - hadn't she suffered enough already? Was StarClan punishing her for something? If there was anything she didn't know, and she cursed her ancestors for it. She skipped training for a quarter-moon, instead sulking in places only she knew of.
When she finally did feel a bit better, she began training again, but her heart was not in it. Sunstripe could see it, and he almost gave up on her, but he knew the Clan would not appreciate that.
After three more moons of training, Frostpaw was finally made a warrior, though she knew that her brother should be at the moonpool at this time, receiving his medicine cat name. Talking to his ancestors, yes. But not living among them.
Still, she did dedicate herself to being a good warrior, and eventually the scars faded. She is content, now, within her Clan, though she wishes she at least had a friend to share with. Her belly is plump with kits; that she should not be pregnant with.
Other: Speaks in LIME GREEN[/size]
Name: Frostberry
Age (in moons): 13 moons
Clan: RiverClan
Rank: Queen
Gender: She-cat
Appearance: Frostberry is a short-haired Chartreux-Tabby mix. Her pelt is a rich, smoky gray. Around her muzzle, and on the tips of the backs of her forelegs and back legs, a paler gray, not quite silver, tinges the fur there. Her build is lean, but not to the point of looking unhealthy. She has never been able to be described as "plump", even in new-leaf and green-leaf, but her health is reflected in the sheen of her fur.
For such a young she-cat, Frostberry's features are fairly developed. Her legs are long, and her paws have almost completely lost their kit-like pudginess. Frostberry's tail is long and thin, but it sticks out at an odd angle, as if once broken and never fully healed.
The most stunning feature of Frostberry would have to be her brilliant green eyes, that seem to burn through anything she looks at. She came to the area with a string of ripe red berries around her neck, which she replaces with the new ones she can find whenever the old berries become dry and wrinkled.
Personality: Though it may often come up as something she doesn't particularly enjoy doing, Frostberry devotes herself to being a good warrior for the Clan, and sticking to the warrior code.
She is a bit of the motherly type, and though she currently is pregnant; she wishes she wasn't though. She is looking forward to the right tom;
"I'll not have my kits being without a fantastic father ever again,"
;That may be some of the only times she sounds much older than she actually is. Most of the time, she has an uplifting laugh, and eyes that most often sparkle with mischief. She has a carefree nature and is quite enjoyable to be around.
Though she sticks to the warrior code as best she can, often when Frostberry is fighting of hunting, she wishes she is somewhere else, or gets distracted by thinking, and lets her foe get away easily. She would rather be thinking than looking at fish int he water, and she longs for an intellectual conversation with another understanding cat, instead of tearing through the flesh of some she-cat that may be a lot like her, or some tom who has kits to take care of.
This is not to say that she doesn't pack a bite; she will fight for her Clan and she will fight hard. Though this is yet to be determined, since we have not seen anything of this yet, but most of her Clanmates think that she would put her kits before her Clan, and they see this as a weakness.
Despite all of this, Frostberry follows the warrior code more than her own heart and instinct. The habit of always doing what the warrior code says she should most often wins her over, and though she doesn't much like this about herself, it is something she cannot change, no matter how hard she struggles.
Most of the time she is pretty easygoing, but if someone plucks a string of hers that she would rather have untouched, she will spring up and give whoever angered her a piece of her mind - not something you'd like, especially when most cats feel so downhearted when she stalks away without looking back, twitching her tail pointedly. Frostberry hides being pregnant well.
History: Bloomingbreeze was a very pregnant queen, headed to the Gathering. There were traces of ThunderClan scent, and rabbit blood, on WindClan's side of the border, and the whole of the Clan was tense. Bloomingbreeze was quite feverish - no one noticed.
The medicine cat had been busy with Sunpaw, an apprentice that had been slashed by a fox's claws - Sunpaw had tried treating the wound himself, but accidentally applied nettle to the wound instead of marigold, and was now slipping in and out of consciousness in the medicine cat den while the medicine cat anxiously watches his infection.
Bloomingbreeze's mate had been left back home, because he had a small cough, and no one wanted WindClan to look weak at a Gathering. Bloomingbreeze had begged them to let him come, but the leader just shook her head and sighed.
When they were about five fox-lengths from the Horseplace, Bloomingbreeze collapsed, her breathing labored. Her eyes were wild and she mewed, "My kits! My kits! Someone help my kits!" She became more and more delirious as the moments slipped by. "Help them!" She moaned, while the Riverclan deputy licked her first kit - A pretty light tabby she-cat, with a brown cloud-like tail.
"The fox! The fox is stealing my kits!" Her pleading made less and less sense, and an apprentice was licking the other kit, a small black tom with a shimmering coat.
Bloomingbreeze became eerily still. A tremor racked her body, once and then no more. Her eyes were fixed on Silverpelt, and her speech came out as a gurgling whisper. "Frostwind, Thrushfeather." She mewed her parents' names in a barely audibly murmur. Twice more, spasms shook her fragile body, and she closed her eyes.
A single drop of rain fell on the deputy's nose, and he bounded up to Swishstar. They dipped their heads and talked in low, inaudible mutters. Swishstar raised her head and mewed, "RiverClan, this tragedy bears us two new motherless kits. Frozenstream has told me what Bloomingbreeze's final words were, and we have agreed on a decision. The firstborn kit-" Swishstar paused to point at the slim blue kit. "-Will be Frostkit, after Bloomingbreeze's mother. The black tomkit will be Thrushkit, after her father."
There was some disagreeable murmuring among the Clan - surely that was a decision for their father to make? But the leader already chose two warriors to take the two kits back to camp, who just dipped their heads and were on their way, carrying the pitifully mewling kits in their mouths.
Frostkit grew up missing her mother, and stuck to herself mostly when she was a young kit. Her brother, on the other hand, was incredibly inquisitive, always poking his nose everywhere, exploring the camp and, most importantly, the medicine cats' den. He would constantly question the medicine cat, who would just trill with laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "What, did I commit a crime?"
Frostkit was happy for her brother, who seemed to always have a job with the medicine cat, and had a few friends that he stuck with and hung out with when he wasn't sorting herbs. Frostkit, on the other hand, had no one - which, for the time being, just made her crawl farther into her shell.
Eventually Thrushkit, outspoken as he was, marched into the medicine cat's den, head held high. "I want to be a medicine cat!" He blurted out.
The medicine cat just purred, knowing he had a knack for memorizing herbs, and already seemed to hold StarClan in the highest respect. "When you're older, Thrushkit," she promised.
As it so happens, when Frostkit and Thrushkit were turned into Frostpaw and Thrushpaw, Thrushpaw was accepted as medicine cat apprentice. He excelled in all aspects of it, and the entire Clan was both impressed and excited to have such a gifted medicine cat.
Frostpaw, it so happens, got Sunstripe as a mentor. She half-blamed him for her mother's death, but she had to admit that he was a good teacher, and she learned a lot from him.
During their apprenticeship, Thrushkit was instructed to go and fetch some comfrey. Unfortunately, he was the first to discover a badger that was living on RiverClan territory. It killed him almost instantly, and he died slowly, the comfrey to ease the infections on his wounds just out of reach.
His last two words?
"I'm sorry."
Frostpaw was anguished with her brother's death - hadn't she suffered enough already? Was StarClan punishing her for something? If there was anything she didn't know, and she cursed her ancestors for it. She skipped training for a quarter-moon, instead sulking in places only she knew of.
When she finally did feel a bit better, she began training again, but her heart was not in it. Sunstripe could see it, and he almost gave up on her, but he knew the Clan would not appreciate that.
After three more moons of training, Frostpaw was finally made a warrior, though she knew that her brother should be at the moonpool at this time, receiving his medicine cat name. Talking to his ancestors, yes. But not living among them.
Still, she did dedicate herself to being a good warrior, and eventually the scars faded. She is content, now, within her Clan, though she wishes she at least had a friend to share with. Her belly is plump with kits; that she should not be pregnant with.
Other: Speaks in LIME GREEN[/size]
