Post by »twigclaw« on Jul 27, 2009 10:10:34 GMT -5
Name: SouthfangGender: Tom
Age: 29
Clan: Leafclan
Position Auditioning for: Deputy
Appearence: He's sleek, but aren't all Leafclanners? He's not short, though. His height cuts through the wind and towers over his peers. His muscles aren't really in his front legs, but rather his back legs. His tail is very long, too, compared to others, but it's just his body proportion. He has sickly looking yellow eyes that pop out in the night and seem to almost emanate light when he's feeling strong emotion. His short fur itself is a tabby color, with browns, greys, and blacks, all melding into twisting stripes. He gets his namesake, though, from his teeth. Oddly enough, they curve into his mouth instead of just the slight curve, though, it's majorly. This has ups and downs. It's a little harder to bite things, for one negative, but if he does get a grip, there's no chance of the bitten being let go of.
Personality: Southfang is always on his toes. He's extremely hostile to outsiders who aren't from the clan. His hateful attitude doesn't stop there, either, he also is suspicious of clanmates. He's so loyal to the warrior code that he becomes fanatical, and over-obsessed so much that he doesn't trust anyone but himself. He's prideful and usually only gives himself credit for deeds he's done. Most of the cats in the clan don't like him, but what can they say? He's an excellent fighter and an overall good warrior.
Mate: n/a
Other: His father was killed when he was a kit when a couple of warriors turned against the clan.
RP SAMPLE:
They never understood him. He knew they looked past him, obeying his orders, but never quite warming up to him. His teeth ground together, the bottom canines scratching the strange shaped top ones, and the top incisors cutting into the roof of his mouth. The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth and he stopped, but a grimace stayed on his face. The cats trooped after him, sniffing and marking the territory every so often. Southfang found his thoughts racing. They were all against the clan, he knew it. He couldn't trust any but a select few. His gleaming yellow eyes glanced back, narrowing.
There was a young apprentice in the group, but, how could he know. He kept walking forward, trying to shift his thoughts back to the border patrol at hand. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he couldn't forget that it was a little moonhigh, the perfect time for a raid on the clan. His mind whirled through memories of his father. He hadn't seen him die, but he'd known the warriors who'd killed him. He felt a acrid rage and sorrow well up in his throat, but he swallowed it down, replacing his weak emotion with paranoia. He would never forget his father, Triggerspeed. His mother was, but that was because she wasn't like him. Nobody was like him. Southfang was different. Everyone else wasn't. Everyone else were suspects. He became more and more paranoid by the second. The tom suddenly stopped and stuck his nose to the ground, sniffing the ground madly, trying to scent any chance of danger. Randomly, he turned around, his eyes suspicious.
"Stop slacking! I want to see you protecting your clan actively." His eyes shot to the apprentice like a poisonous dagger, "Don't think I didn't see you talking."
The sensible part of his mind told him that the apprentice had simply been asking his mentor a question, but the irrational part told him he was planning something; something bad. His fur was bristling at these ideas and he struggled to calm his emotions. Slowly, he turned back around, not too fast, but not slow enough to look queer. Concentrate. He looked at the spare trees in the Leafclan territory, and investigated every shrub he came to, yet there was nothing. They were back near camp, and yet nothing had happened. It was like an itch he couldn't reach, though. Something was wrong, he knew it. Southfang just had hunches like that. He looked around swiftly, letting his tabby pelt bristle fully....and there was a cry. He leaped, for it had come from the nursery. His legs took him so quickly the ground flew over him, but when his head popped through the nursery...it was nothing but a kit. Withdrawing, he was looking around for the night guard warrior of the camp to tell him to get someone else and get some rest when he heard from a distance, that young apprentice saying:
"Yeah, Southfang is crazy. He just needs to take a nice, long sleep.."
A triumphant smile upon the deputy's face. He knew that apprentice was a traitor! He'd keep an eye on him. Content, he curled asleep in the Warriors' den later that night soundly.
Age: 29
Clan: Leafclan
Position Auditioning for: Deputy
Appearence: He's sleek, but aren't all Leafclanners? He's not short, though. His height cuts through the wind and towers over his peers. His muscles aren't really in his front legs, but rather his back legs. His tail is very long, too, compared to others, but it's just his body proportion. He has sickly looking yellow eyes that pop out in the night and seem to almost emanate light when he's feeling strong emotion. His short fur itself is a tabby color, with browns, greys, and blacks, all melding into twisting stripes. He gets his namesake, though, from his teeth. Oddly enough, they curve into his mouth instead of just the slight curve, though, it's majorly. This has ups and downs. It's a little harder to bite things, for one negative, but if he does get a grip, there's no chance of the bitten being let go of.
Personality: Southfang is always on his toes. He's extremely hostile to outsiders who aren't from the clan. His hateful attitude doesn't stop there, either, he also is suspicious of clanmates. He's so loyal to the warrior code that he becomes fanatical, and over-obsessed so much that he doesn't trust anyone but himself. He's prideful and usually only gives himself credit for deeds he's done. Most of the cats in the clan don't like him, but what can they say? He's an excellent fighter and an overall good warrior.
Mate: n/a
Other: His father was killed when he was a kit when a couple of warriors turned against the clan.
RP SAMPLE:
They never understood him. He knew they looked past him, obeying his orders, but never quite warming up to him. His teeth ground together, the bottom canines scratching the strange shaped top ones, and the top incisors cutting into the roof of his mouth. The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth and he stopped, but a grimace stayed on his face. The cats trooped after him, sniffing and marking the territory every so often. Southfang found his thoughts racing. They were all against the clan, he knew it. He couldn't trust any but a select few. His gleaming yellow eyes glanced back, narrowing.
There was a young apprentice in the group, but, how could he know. He kept walking forward, trying to shift his thoughts back to the border patrol at hand. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he couldn't forget that it was a little moonhigh, the perfect time for a raid on the clan. His mind whirled through memories of his father. He hadn't seen him die, but he'd known the warriors who'd killed him. He felt a acrid rage and sorrow well up in his throat, but he swallowed it down, replacing his weak emotion with paranoia. He would never forget his father, Triggerspeed. His mother was, but that was because she wasn't like him. Nobody was like him. Southfang was different. Everyone else wasn't. Everyone else were suspects. He became more and more paranoid by the second. The tom suddenly stopped and stuck his nose to the ground, sniffing the ground madly, trying to scent any chance of danger. Randomly, he turned around, his eyes suspicious.
"Stop slacking! I want to see you protecting your clan actively." His eyes shot to the apprentice like a poisonous dagger, "Don't think I didn't see you talking."
The sensible part of his mind told him that the apprentice had simply been asking his mentor a question, but the irrational part told him he was planning something; something bad. His fur was bristling at these ideas and he struggled to calm his emotions. Slowly, he turned back around, not too fast, but not slow enough to look queer. Concentrate. He looked at the spare trees in the Leafclan territory, and investigated every shrub he came to, yet there was nothing. They were back near camp, and yet nothing had happened. It was like an itch he couldn't reach, though. Something was wrong, he knew it. Southfang just had hunches like that. He looked around swiftly, letting his tabby pelt bristle fully....and there was a cry. He leaped, for it had come from the nursery. His legs took him so quickly the ground flew over him, but when his head popped through the nursery...it was nothing but a kit. Withdrawing, he was looking around for the night guard warrior of the camp to tell him to get someone else and get some rest when he heard from a distance, that young apprentice saying:
"Yeah, Southfang is crazy. He just needs to take a nice, long sleep.."
A triumphant smile upon the deputy's face. He knew that apprentice was a traitor! He'd keep an eye on him. Content, he curled asleep in the Warriors' den later that night soundly.
