Froziepie

[sammonroll]

NAME! Frozenkit - Frozenpaw
AGE! 8 moons
RANK! apprentice
GENDER! male
CLAN! RiverClan
SHORT DESC.! A lanky, silver tom with long whiskers and striking scar on his right side.

FULL DESCRIPTION!

Full body

Unusually skinny for a RiverClan cat, with an elfish face to match, his body type most resembles that of a silver Oriental cat. He is long and lean, appearing more fit for the WindClan plains than the cold RiverClan shores. He is relatively tall for his age but it's not noticeable, on account of his skinny, lurking presence. His pelt is mostly solid light gray, but there is a dark sheen on his longer hairs, giving him the impression of a silver fish when he sneaks around. His head and tips fade into a dark gray, as if touched by frostbite, earning him the name of Frozen.

And let's not forget the battered right side of him. Reaching from his shoulder to his flank is a very large, ragged scar, looking as if some very large and hungry teeth took a bite of him and ripped him open. His right paw is also in a rather pitiful condition, a scarred up mirror of his perfectly healthy looking left paw.

PERSONALITY!

Frozenpaw doesn't pay mind to anyone and has little to no motivation. Most cats blame his dull personality on the rough start he had as a kit, but honestly, even without the scar, he probably would have ended up the same, though likely less strange. But since everyone already makes up an excuse for his uncaring attitude, why bother changing their minds? He already feels like he has no purpose in life, but don't feel bad for him! He's not depressed at all, merely insolent. Many a cat have tried to whip him into shape, but all he does is aggravate them for their attempts. It's really...almost as if he's taunting them. Seeing how angry they can get at him, seeing if they could lash out at him. Because oh, wouldn't that be exciting? Bring a little...flash of bright, red color into his life.

Although he'll most certainly zone out in every conversation he has with anybody, Frozenpaw has a fantastic luck with guessing the conversation material. He manages to catch little snippets of sentences and can usually manage to piece them together. This confuses a lot of cats who think he's not paying attention (oh trust me, he's not), when he actually is (or pretends to).

From a vast majority of his kitten days being spent in the medicine cat's den, he has a general understanding of how to bring down fever and how to treat wounds. Not that he knows the names of the treatments, but he can sniff them out, if he really wants to. But he's by no means a medicine cat, so exactly what sort of skill could he possibly bring to warrior life?

HISTORY!

Frozenpaw's father, a very powerful swimmer, had died in battle before his kits were born. His mother has since passed away from all the wretched grief. He had a brother, once. As of now, only Frozenpaw remains of the family line, and it's looking like a gloomy future for his ancestors, who were looking for a strong, proud cat to continue their name.

Born an indifferent kit, he mainly cared for the warmth and sweet smell of milk inside the nursery den. He had some interest in play time, encouraging his mother who wanted to see active warriors that took after their late father. At 4 and a half moons, Frozenpaw's brother had run off for camp in search of playful adventure. Unfortunately, he found adventure of another sort and ended up face to face with a badger. Frozenpaw ran after him to scold, but only found himself in the same dangerous position. His brother died shortly, and Frozenpaw would have too if a patrol hadn't found him just in time, already bleeding half to death in the beast's jaws. His mother died soon after seeing what she thought was two dead sons.

After spending a couple moons in the medicine cat's den, Frozenpaw appeared no worse for wear, apart from the long, shining scar reaching over half his body. Because of all the time spent healing, he started his apprenticeship late. Many warriors were hopeful that he would be able to catch up with the rest of the group his age, but after seeing how he was in action, he would probably be late in becoming a warrior too... Not to mention, it seemed he always came into camp with mysterious cuts, and lame excuses to cover them.

RP EXAMPLE!

Frozenpaw sighed. He was an awful hunter, a sub par swimmer, and a terrible clanmate. It was a wonder why he even stayed in camp. Hardly anyone even acknowledged him anymore. Although, that was likely his own fault. Frozenpaw didn't exactly offer any scintillating conversation, and most of the time, he sulked away when another cat approached him. This was the life he made for himself.

The apprentice had just left the medicine den for the... well, he couldn't even count how many times he'd been there now. It's just, he went a little too far this time... He sat down right outside and licked his bloody right paw. The mangled paw was strange to the others at first, but after seeing it so often, everyone just started attributing it to the badger attack he encountered as a kit. It was bizarre that the wound should keep bleeding, but hey, they weren't medicine cats. No one questioned it very much.

As he licked his wound, he glanced up, seeing a warrior licking his own battle scar, received in probably some very important fight. The warrior was probably proud of it, in a certain way. Frozenpaw looked down at his ragged paw. If the warrior's wound was a medal of honor, Frozenpaw's paw was a medal of shame. "Are you proud?" he angrily thought to himself. But every lick with his scraping tongue made him feel a little better and the anger rushed away. It came to a point where he had to stop himself, lest he reopen the wound and make yet another visit to the medicine cat's den.

[tails//]

accepted; please post in the RC allegiances.