Post by Kite on May 23, 2013 0:51:49 GMT -5
NAME! Berk
AGE! 73 moons.
GENDER! male
TYPE! loner
SHORT DESC.! A ragged, scrawny tuxedo tom with vibrant green eyes.
FULL DESCRIPTION!
PERSONALITY!
HISTORY!
Did you purchase a trait for this character from the site store? Yes or no?:
AGE! 73 moons.
GENDER! male
TYPE! loner
SHORT DESC.! A ragged, scrawny tuxedo tom with vibrant green eyes.
FULL DESCRIPTION!
Oh my god the scars this guy has. Okay so let's start with time he got mauled by a fox so now the back of his neck is patchy as frick because of the sheer amount of scar tissue. Or how about the time a dog got at his throat but didn't kill him so he's got some scars there too. He also got attacked by a bobcat once and that big fella got his shoulder good with her claws; he's still got four long scars on his shoulder from that. Another cat ripped off his left ear, that was a fun time. Left him with clawmarks down his face so close to his eye it's a miracle he can still see out of it.
He also walks with a bit of a limp from an old injury: a hind leg that never healed quite right.
His eyes though. They're green, sure, but they're a mad, haunted green. They're glow-in-the-dark, radioactive green. They're striking, vibrant green. They're I-am-100%-done-with-your-bullshit green. Okay that's not a real color but I swear to you his patience is nonexistent. He's old, but he's that cranky, you-kids-get-off-my-lawn old that you can see just by looking at him. He's that WWII vet down the road that still has nightmares of the battlefield. And you can see that in his eyes.
Berk's not especially big. Take your average cat, keep him malnourished for most of his life, run him through hell, but discover he's hard as nails and just won't die. What you end up with his a scrawny, bony, tattered and ragged old cat like this one. Like Yellowfang, only with more loss and less guilt.
Berk's got a nifty tuxedo pattern going on with his fur. He's mostly black, but white in all of the following places: paws, tail tip, belly, chest, throat, chin, mouth. Keep in mind that when I say white, I mean that the fur started out white. Berk's not big on grooming.
In terms of build, you can still see the outline of the big, strong, powerful cat of the mountains he used to be. He's really slimmed down though, and to be honest a bit patchy. His ribs and haunches stick out from malnutrition and age. He's not quite skin and bones-- he's more lean and stringy. He's still got strength in those muscles.
Cool things about Berk: guy's got an accent. Anyone who's been to the mountains and met some tribe cats there could place it, but since I'm doubting anybody within the clans has made such a journey, he's just going to sound a little funny to you.
PERSONALITY!
Berk's got an attitude problem. He always has. He's an I'll-respect-you-when-you-earn-it-and-only-then kind of guy. Think bitter war veteran. He'll probably have some respect for a few other war veterans, but none at all for current soldiers unless they really wow him. He's a pessimist and a cynic. He's borderline paranoid; sometimes he thinks monsters are out to get him, but sometimes he's being realistic about the frequency with which shit actually does try to kill him.
Contrary to popular belief, Berk does know when to shut up. If he's in a sticky situation and shutting up is the difference between whether or not that pack of rogues is going to attack him, he'll keep his gob shut. It's just that unless it's truly a safety hazard, he chooses not to. He likes insulting others in the most colorful ways he can think of, and he's got enough power and fighting skill to back himself up. He taught a couple apprentice-aged cats some new swears once and was accused of "disturbing the peace." Yeah, he's that guy.
HISTORY!
Berk's life began in the loft of a barn. His parents lived out of a barn of horses, catching the mice and rats that frequented the area to live on. The humans that owned and rode the horses would often leave milk out for the cats as thanks for catching so many rodents.
While his parents and siblings were happy with their place in the barn, Berk was not. He set out young to explore the world and see what else was out there. He was the age of an apprentice when he had a nasty run-in with a fox that left him with the scars on the back of his neck.
Heavily injured, he was found by a tribe of cats living in the mountains. They took him in and fixed him up, allowing him time to heal before he left. He stayed long enough for them to offer him a place among them, and out of gratitude for what they had done for him, he accepted.
Life with the tribe was much harder than in the barn, but he rose to the challenge. He eagerly learned to fight off eagles and other predatory creatures. His soft pads grew hard and calloused. His weak muscles grew strong and powerful. He became a cat of the mountains.
However, Berk was not the most charming individual. He was frequently disrespectful to his elders and generally obnoxious and arrogant. He made few friends and a great many enemies within the tribe.
The tribe eventually learned that they were not the biggest cats to inhabit the mountain. A mountain lion stalked the tribe cats for moons before striking, but when it did strike, many tribe cats died. Berk was seriously injured fighting off the monster of a cat; it took his ear and scored his face with the claws of one paw, and marked his shoulder with the other. And still their ancestors were silent; no one would come to save them. As more of their number were killed, their leader decided the tribe would have to leave the mountains and find a new home.
The journey was hard, especially since the tribe cats were not trained to fight off other cats. Learning was difficult. After moons of travel, the tribe came to a lake and saw mountains in the distance across the moor; different mountains than those from which they came, but hopefully mountains that did not harbor mountain lions. The tribe stopped by the lake to rest for several moons, as the land around the lake seemed deserted of other cats. Some members of the tribe began to question whether or not they should even continue on, since the lake seemed like a good place for them to stay. Prey was plentiful, and there were no other cats.
The tribe put off making a decision, effectively settling down even further. Their temporary camp became less temporary as the cats found bedding for nests and moved brambles for walls. They had to learn how to fight foxes and badgers out here.
In their seventh moon by the lake, badgers attacked their camp in force. The tribe had had no warning, and was obliterated. Only the leader and healer had been left standing, due to his having hid away rather than fight. After the badgers left, he tried to heal those who still lived, but only Berk lived through the next moon.
Berk and his leader left the lake when Berk was well enough and his old leader was strong enough. "I know a place where we can be safe," Berk told him. "There's a barn full of mice we can go. It's shelter, and there's food, and no one minds at all that you're there." He'd had no idea if he could find his old barn again. He just wanted to keep moving. After the badgers, he was half convinced that nowhere but that old barn was safe.
After many moons of walking, they pair of them did find the barn. Berk's siblings were still there, but they didn't recognize him. They welcomed him and his healer in all the same. When the older cat passed away, Berk found he couldn't stay there anymore. Just like in his youth, he left to explore the world.
And now here he is.
Did you purchase a trait for this character from the site store? Yes or no?:
Only if I have to buy the missing ear.
