Post by gray on Feb 14, 2013 19:17:34 GMT -5
CEDARCLAW
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top] 30 MOONS male RiverClan warrior | [atrb=style, width: 296px; padding: 5px; background-color: e3e3e3; border-top: 4px solid #000000;] GENERAL INFORMATION NAME, Cedarclaw EXPLANATION, |
BRIEF DESCRIPTION, a brown tabby tom with mellow green eyes
FAMILY, Cypress, mother, deceased
Shallowstripe, father, living
Hemlock, sister, deceased
Snowfoot, half-sister, living
Birchclaw, half-brother, living
Reedkit, nephew, deceased
Pebblekit, niece, deceased[/div]
APPEARANCE
PERSONALITY
STRENGTHS/POSITIVES
Physically Strong
Determined & Decisive
Honorable
Smart & Practical
Hardworking
WEAKNESSES/NEGATIVES
Distrustful & Cynical
Selfish
Temperamental
Impatient & Anxious
Arrogant & Stubborn
LIKES,
[/font]Physically Strong
Cedar, though not necessarily bulky, is a strong and physically powerful cat. He is a formidable enemy in battle, fearless and tough. He can take on almost any opponent, and definitely prefers to work things out with a couple of good, solid swipes.
Determined & Decisive
Never one to quit, Cedar is a very persistent sort of cat. Once he makes a decision, he sticks with it until the very end, throughout the consequences and beyond. He won’t turn his back on a decision and he wastes no time in making them. Once his mind is made up, that’s it. There’s no going back. Cedar is a determined and resolute warrior with a clear-cut way of thinking.
Honorable
Don’t mix Cedar up with a rogue personality; he is an honorable sort of cat and lives by his own code, a leftover from his loner days, as well as follows the warrior code… for the most part. He may not always make the best choice or take the easy way, but he will stand for what is good and moral and could never be considered ‘bad’ or ‘evil’. He does he believes to be right and is a general decent sort. There are far worse cats in this world.
Smart & Practical
Although not diplomatic or good with his words, Cedar is still a very smart cat. He’s down-to-earth, realistic, and practical; he wastes no time with daydreams and other such nonsense. Cedar listens to his instincts and can keep a level head… until someone treads on his ego or unsheathes claws.
Hardworking
Cedar is a diligent and hardworking member of the Clan and despite his solitary past, does his best for the Clan. Not one for lying around or laziness, the moments in which Cedar can be found relaxing are few and far between. He prefers to always be doing something, even better if he can do tasks alone.
WEAKNESSES/NEGATIVES
Distrustful & Cynical
With all that loner blood inside of him, Cedar is a naturally wary and distrustful cat. He prefers to take care of himself and hates asking for or admitting he needs help. He may seem friendly or flirty, but in actuality, keeps himself to himself. He doesn’t give away personal information freely, and is quite tight-lipped. His business is his business. Going along with his natural distrustfulness is a jaded, cynical outlook. His tongue is nearly as sharp as his claws, and he always has a smart retort.
Selfish
Growing up with only himself to take care of, Cedar has a hard time remembering that he now has to take into consideration an entire Clan. He is self-centered by nature and selfish by circumstance; he forgets to pay attention to how others are doing and how they are feeling.
Temperamental
Never let it be said that being around Cedar is boring. He’s a cat full of personality, and the downside of that would be his impatience and moodiness. Cedar is a high-strung and temperamental sort of tom. He could just as easily smile at you as bite you. His temper sometimes gets the best of him, and he can get aggressive.
Impatient & Anxious
Cedar doesn’t like to wait for anything and actually doesn’t always handle stress very well. Although typically adept at hiding his emotions, Cedar secretly finds himself stressed out quite often. He has high expectations for himself and for those around him, and is frustrated when he and others fail to meet them. He’s an antsy sort of cat, always on the move or with some task. His energetic persona may be a good thing, but his energy often boils over into impatience, annoyance, rash decisions, or silly mistakes.
Arrogant & Stubborn
Cedar is a proud, determined cat. Unfortunately, his independence often becomes plain old stubbornness, and his pride into cocky arrogance. Tied together with his dominant, strong, and temperamental personality, his inflexibility and ego are a huge problem. Cedar could do some serious damage, and it’s always wise to tiptoe carefully around his superiority.
LIKES,
♥ physical work
♥ battle/fighting
♥ sunshine/green-leaf/daytime
♥ being alone
♥ simple conversation
DISLIKES,[/font]
✗ kits & apprentices
✗ idiotic/silly antics
✗ company
✗ snow & ice
✗ wasting time[/div]
HISTORY
Parents
Cypress was a pretty and vivacious loner, just the sort of cat that Shallowstripe would fall for, and fall he did. She was caught on RiverClan territory by a rather unfriendly patrol of warriors, teaching herself how to fish from the river—which caught Shallowstripe’s eye. After the patrol chased out Cypress, Shallowstripe went out later that night and tracked her. He befriended her, helped her, and eventually, fell in love with her. Cypress loved him back in her own way, and she birthed Shallowstripe’s kits: two she-cats and a tom. Cypress, unwilling to join RiverClan and terrified that Shallowstripe would try to take the kits and take them to the Clan, abruptly left about a moon before they were born without telling her mate. Cypress, alone, gave birth to four kits at the end of leaf-bare: three she-kits and a tom.
0-6 Moons
Cypress loved trees and named us all after them. She named the smallest kit Hemlock, the largest kit Poplar, and the one that looked like Shallowstripe she named Larch; me, she named Cedar. Now, Cypress loved my sisters and me, don’t get me wrong. She just had a very… interesting… way of showing that she loved us. She didn’t love in any conventional sort of way; I suppose you could say it was more of a tough love situation.
For our first moon, before we could see or hear or speak, Cypress simply fed us and watched over us, hunting only in the few fox-lengths that allowed her to keep us in her sight. She was constantly paranoid that we would be captured by RiverClan, or killed by a rogue or loner or some large animal.
When we began to move around and develop personalities—and burning curiosity –Cypress spent time teaching us how to do a basic hunter’s crouch. Mostly, though, we played—we were carefree, happy, playful, curious. Cypress encouraged our play but never let us stray very far from where she had made our home. She managed to feed us all somehow, kept us all healthy and fed, for the most part. But our peaceful, simple existence couldn’t last.
In our fifth moon, a large and ragged cat with a vicious sneer and yellow fangs stumbled upon our happy little home. He was huge and muscled and scarred, with a patchy, mangy grayish pelt and broken teeth and a gouged-out eye. He terrified my sisters and me. Cypress hid us, and hid us very well. We couldn’t even see, but we could hear, which was worse in my opinion. We heard every whimper, snarl, and tear of the flesh… until suddenly…
Silence.
Poplar and I kept Hemlock and Larch quiet for hours, though it felt like seasons. Finally, I dared to peak out from our hiding place. What I saw was terrible. I saw our mother lying on the ground, limbs splayed out at awkward and unnatural angles. She was lying in a pool of blood, and I would’ve bet anything in the world that it was her own blood. Poor Cypress never had a chance.
Using the few skills Cypress had managed to teach us, Poplar and I managed to catch prey every once in a while and fed our littler sisters. Hemlock and Larch soon fell ill, though, and Poplar and I didn’t know what to do. We tried as hard as we could, but we were only kits, and what could a pair of kits do with two sick siblings and no real skills?
6-12 Moons
Hemlock and Larch grew sicker and sicker while Poplar and I tried to keep us all fed. We were so lucky; by some fluke or stroke of brilliant luck, nothing else bothered us. We weren’t attacked or chased out by anything, neither feline nor other species. Contrasting this good luck, though, we lost Hemlock. Hemlock died when we were nearly seven moons old.
One day, after Poplar and I tried to convince Larch to try hunting with us, we encountered a strange scent. Suddenly, we found ourselves surrounded by large, sleek cats smelling strongly of fish. I knew instantly these were the scary RiverClan cats our mother had warned us about. I drew my sisters close to my side, poor sick Larch coughing weakly the whole time.
One of them stepped forward and introduced himself as Shallowstripe, saying that he was our father. I protested fiercely at first, but looking Larch, it was impossible to deny that this cat was our father. Larch was a small copy of the strange warrior, and Shallowstripe announced that we would be given a new home in RiverClan, and asked where our mother was. Poplar delivered the news that Cypress was dead, and without another word, the patrol of Clan cats picked us up and took us to their Clan.
Until we were nine moons old, we spent our time in the nursery, looked after by the medicine cat and nursed to full strength. Larch made a full recovery, and Poplar and I grew large and strong. When we reached out ninth moon, we were made apprentices. Poplar and I only grudgingly took on Clan names, but Larch was eager to start over and wash away her past. She accepted the name Smokepaw and refused to speak to us. I became Cedarpaw and my other sister became Poplarpaw—for my own sake and sanity, I will continue to refer to us all by our birth names.
Poplar and I remained close, speaking to no one but our mentors, and even then only speaking grudgingly. We proved to be adept at fighting and land hunting, while Larch became a strong swimmer and fisher. Poplar and I never looked to fit in with the rest of the Clan; I suppose Cypress came out more in us. We frequently talked about what things would be like had Cypress lived, or what Hemlock would think of the Clan had she survived. We all trained hard, Larch to be accepted as part of the Clan as Smokepaw, and Poplar to prove something to herself. As for me, I wanted to make sure that if Cypress were alive, that she would be proud of me.
Shallowstripe took on a new mate in a cat called Songfeather, and had a litter of two, a she-kit and a tom, and named the she-kit Snowkit and the tom Birchkit—birch, as in the tree, the only hint that Shallowstripe may have remembered Cypress. Larch fawned over them, but Poplar and I kept our distance. Shallowstripe never approached us, either, probably because we had refused Clan names. He’d have loved to forget everything, but Poplar and I wouldn’t let him.
12-20 Moons
I stayed with RiverClan until I reached my twelfth moon, the age at which most cats were named as warriors, but my sisters and I had to remain in training due to our late start. I was tired of the Clan, though, and I left as soon as I thought I had the skills to survive on my own. I tried to convince Poplar to come with me, but she refused, admitting that although she would never try to forget our past, she was settling into Clan life. I departed when the moon reached its zenith in the middle of green-leaf, alone, returning to our kithood home.
I hunted and fended for myself for many moons, even claiming a rather sizeable area of land as my own, chasing off any and all who disturbed me. Most would think I lived a terribly lonely and boring existence, but I liked it. I liked having no one to think of but myself, and not needing to listen to any rules but my own. In truth, I liked the solitude—it was rather peaceful, and quite an uncomplicated way to live. I lived that way, untroubled and undisturbed, until I reached my twentieth moon.
20 Moons-Present Day
In my twentieth moon, a large black-and-white tom found me. I recognized him from my short time in RiverClan—his name is Patchfur. My father came with him, much to my surprise—I had rejected him from my life when he rejected my mother from his. In a few short gasps from Patchfur, I managed to understand that he was Poplar’s—Poplarleaf’s –mate, and that she had just birthed two kits. The rest was a garbled mess, but I gathered that Poplar wasn’t doing well. I immediately agreed to go—this was the sister that had always stood by me, and I wasn’t going to let her suffer, especially not alone. I returned to the Clan with Patchfur and Shallowstripe.
On the way back, Shallowstripe quietly told me that Poplar’s kits had died shortly after birth, because they were born too early, and that my sister wasn’t recovering like she should. Patchfur tersely raced on, barely slackening the pace, until we reached the RiverClan camp. By then, four days had passed since Poplar’s kits had been born and died. We went to the medicine cat to see Poplar…
…and I saw her lying peacefully on the ground, completely still and silent. My sister was dead, and I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye to her. I suddenly felt much more sympathetic and friendly towards Patchfur, because he loved my sister, too. Shallowstripe rested his chin on my head and Patchfur and I pressed our noses to my sister’s still flank.
I agreed to remain with the Clan. I was given the name Cedarclaw. Smokefur still refuses to acknowledge me; Shallowstripe and I reached a quiet understanding. I will never fully forgive him, but I can’t be angry with him, either. What if I lose him, like I did my sisters? Songfeather accepts me grudgingly, because her kits Snowfoot and Birchclaw developed a liking for me. Patchfur became my friend. I stay as distant as possible from others, but I have lost my hatred for the Clan in my time away. I am much the same as when I left, but at the same time, I am vastly different.
Cypress was a pretty and vivacious loner, just the sort of cat that Shallowstripe would fall for, and fall he did. She was caught on RiverClan territory by a rather unfriendly patrol of warriors, teaching herself how to fish from the river—which caught Shallowstripe’s eye. After the patrol chased out Cypress, Shallowstripe went out later that night and tracked her. He befriended her, helped her, and eventually, fell in love with her. Cypress loved him back in her own way, and she birthed Shallowstripe’s kits: two she-cats and a tom. Cypress, unwilling to join RiverClan and terrified that Shallowstripe would try to take the kits and take them to the Clan, abruptly left about a moon before they were born without telling her mate. Cypress, alone, gave birth to four kits at the end of leaf-bare: three she-kits and a tom.
0-6 Moons
Cypress loved trees and named us all after them. She named the smallest kit Hemlock, the largest kit Poplar, and the one that looked like Shallowstripe she named Larch; me, she named Cedar. Now, Cypress loved my sisters and me, don’t get me wrong. She just had a very… interesting… way of showing that she loved us. She didn’t love in any conventional sort of way; I suppose you could say it was more of a tough love situation.
For our first moon, before we could see or hear or speak, Cypress simply fed us and watched over us, hunting only in the few fox-lengths that allowed her to keep us in her sight. She was constantly paranoid that we would be captured by RiverClan, or killed by a rogue or loner or some large animal.
When we began to move around and develop personalities—and burning curiosity –Cypress spent time teaching us how to do a basic hunter’s crouch. Mostly, though, we played—we were carefree, happy, playful, curious. Cypress encouraged our play but never let us stray very far from where she had made our home. She managed to feed us all somehow, kept us all healthy and fed, for the most part. But our peaceful, simple existence couldn’t last.
In our fifth moon, a large and ragged cat with a vicious sneer and yellow fangs stumbled upon our happy little home. He was huge and muscled and scarred, with a patchy, mangy grayish pelt and broken teeth and a gouged-out eye. He terrified my sisters and me. Cypress hid us, and hid us very well. We couldn’t even see, but we could hear, which was worse in my opinion. We heard every whimper, snarl, and tear of the flesh… until suddenly…
Silence.
Poplar and I kept Hemlock and Larch quiet for hours, though it felt like seasons. Finally, I dared to peak out from our hiding place. What I saw was terrible. I saw our mother lying on the ground, limbs splayed out at awkward and unnatural angles. She was lying in a pool of blood, and I would’ve bet anything in the world that it was her own blood. Poor Cypress never had a chance.
Using the few skills Cypress had managed to teach us, Poplar and I managed to catch prey every once in a while and fed our littler sisters. Hemlock and Larch soon fell ill, though, and Poplar and I didn’t know what to do. We tried as hard as we could, but we were only kits, and what could a pair of kits do with two sick siblings and no real skills?
6-12 Moons
Hemlock and Larch grew sicker and sicker while Poplar and I tried to keep us all fed. We were so lucky; by some fluke or stroke of brilliant luck, nothing else bothered us. We weren’t attacked or chased out by anything, neither feline nor other species. Contrasting this good luck, though, we lost Hemlock. Hemlock died when we were nearly seven moons old.
One day, after Poplar and I tried to convince Larch to try hunting with us, we encountered a strange scent. Suddenly, we found ourselves surrounded by large, sleek cats smelling strongly of fish. I knew instantly these were the scary RiverClan cats our mother had warned us about. I drew my sisters close to my side, poor sick Larch coughing weakly the whole time.
One of them stepped forward and introduced himself as Shallowstripe, saying that he was our father. I protested fiercely at first, but looking Larch, it was impossible to deny that this cat was our father. Larch was a small copy of the strange warrior, and Shallowstripe announced that we would be given a new home in RiverClan, and asked where our mother was. Poplar delivered the news that Cypress was dead, and without another word, the patrol of Clan cats picked us up and took us to their Clan.
Until we were nine moons old, we spent our time in the nursery, looked after by the medicine cat and nursed to full strength. Larch made a full recovery, and Poplar and I grew large and strong. When we reached out ninth moon, we were made apprentices. Poplar and I only grudgingly took on Clan names, but Larch was eager to start over and wash away her past. She accepted the name Smokepaw and refused to speak to us. I became Cedarpaw and my other sister became Poplarpaw—for my own sake and sanity, I will continue to refer to us all by our birth names.
Poplar and I remained close, speaking to no one but our mentors, and even then only speaking grudgingly. We proved to be adept at fighting and land hunting, while Larch became a strong swimmer and fisher. Poplar and I never looked to fit in with the rest of the Clan; I suppose Cypress came out more in us. We frequently talked about what things would be like had Cypress lived, or what Hemlock would think of the Clan had she survived. We all trained hard, Larch to be accepted as part of the Clan as Smokepaw, and Poplar to prove something to herself. As for me, I wanted to make sure that if Cypress were alive, that she would be proud of me.
Shallowstripe took on a new mate in a cat called Songfeather, and had a litter of two, a she-kit and a tom, and named the she-kit Snowkit and the tom Birchkit—birch, as in the tree, the only hint that Shallowstripe may have remembered Cypress. Larch fawned over them, but Poplar and I kept our distance. Shallowstripe never approached us, either, probably because we had refused Clan names. He’d have loved to forget everything, but Poplar and I wouldn’t let him.
12-20 Moons
I stayed with RiverClan until I reached my twelfth moon, the age at which most cats were named as warriors, but my sisters and I had to remain in training due to our late start. I was tired of the Clan, though, and I left as soon as I thought I had the skills to survive on my own. I tried to convince Poplar to come with me, but she refused, admitting that although she would never try to forget our past, she was settling into Clan life. I departed when the moon reached its zenith in the middle of green-leaf, alone, returning to our kithood home.
I hunted and fended for myself for many moons, even claiming a rather sizeable area of land as my own, chasing off any and all who disturbed me. Most would think I lived a terribly lonely and boring existence, but I liked it. I liked having no one to think of but myself, and not needing to listen to any rules but my own. In truth, I liked the solitude—it was rather peaceful, and quite an uncomplicated way to live. I lived that way, untroubled and undisturbed, until I reached my twentieth moon.
20 Moons-Present Day
In my twentieth moon, a large black-and-white tom found me. I recognized him from my short time in RiverClan—his name is Patchfur. My father came with him, much to my surprise—I had rejected him from my life when he rejected my mother from his. In a few short gasps from Patchfur, I managed to understand that he was Poplar’s—Poplarleaf’s –mate, and that she had just birthed two kits. The rest was a garbled mess, but I gathered that Poplar wasn’t doing well. I immediately agreed to go—this was the sister that had always stood by me, and I wasn’t going to let her suffer, especially not alone. I returned to the Clan with Patchfur and Shallowstripe.
On the way back, Shallowstripe quietly told me that Poplar’s kits had died shortly after birth, because they were born too early, and that my sister wasn’t recovering like she should. Patchfur tersely raced on, barely slackening the pace, until we reached the RiverClan camp. By then, four days had passed since Poplar’s kits had been born and died. We went to the medicine cat to see Poplar…
…and I saw her lying peacefully on the ground, completely still and silent. My sister was dead, and I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye to her. I suddenly felt much more sympathetic and friendly towards Patchfur, because he loved my sister, too. Shallowstripe rested his chin on my head and Patchfur and I pressed our noses to my sister’s still flank.
I agreed to remain with the Clan. I was given the name Cedarclaw. Smokefur still refuses to acknowledge me; Shallowstripe and I reached a quiet understanding. I will never fully forgive him, but I can’t be angry with him, either. What if I lose him, like I did my sisters? Songfeather accepts me grudgingly, because her kits Snowfoot and Birchclaw developed a liking for me. Patchfur became my friend. I stay as distant as possible from others, but I have lost my hatred for the Clan in my time away. I am much the same as when I left, but at the same time, I am vastly different.
OTHER INFORMATON
apologies for the very long history. I get very, very involved xD
Update:
-They now all have Clan names, although begrudgingly by the two. Cedar will always think of his sisters by their birth names, but he'll refer to them as their Clan names for the benefit of the other cats.
-Yes, Cedarclaw is aware of the war. His life has been a very self-concerned and isolated existence so far, so he only has the opinion of staying away from the fighting. His (rather loud) opinions will definitely be discovered through RPing.
-I usually do all my character bio histories in 1st person (developed from a time when I had a character with many secrets. She covered them all up, but I interjected 3rd-person omniscient notes to explain what really happened.) I will definitely RP in 3rd person.
Update:
-They now all have Clan names, although begrudgingly by the two. Cedar will always think of his sisters by their birth names, but he'll refer to them as their Clan names for the benefit of the other cats.
-Yes, Cedarclaw is aware of the war. His life has been a very self-concerned and isolated existence so far, so he only has the opinion of staying away from the fighting. His (rather loud) opinions will definitely be discovered through RPing.
-I usually do all my character bio histories in 1st person (developed from a time when I had a character with many secrets. She covered them all up, but I interjected 3rd-person omniscient notes to explain what really happened.) I will definitely RP in 3rd person.
ETCETERA
OTHER CATS,
HOW DID YOU FIND US,[/font] an ad on BP[/div][/td][/tr][/table]
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