Post by Kaitou on Oct 1, 2007 20:05:32 GMT -5
Name: Wraithgaze
Moons: 25
Picture: Gender: Tom
Rank: Warrior
Description:
Moons: 25
Picture: Gender: Tom
Rank: Warrior
Description:
Wraithgaze is of a long, slender build, possessing about his lithe frame a ghostly, dark grace almost feminine in its purity. However, Wraithstar proves nonetheless formidable for the relative slightness of his frame, quick and indisputably powerful. There is a certain bewitching harshness to every angle of Wraithstar’s body, his joints and muscles sharply defined angles beneath his glossy coat. His paws are large, almost disproportionately so; however, their broadness serves great purpose in the stability it grants his wiry frame when coupled with his long, thin tail. His legs are of uncommon length, sinewed and powerful, though still keeping with the lean trend of his body, providing a heightened degree of feline elegance to his bearing.Personality:
Wraithstar’s fur is short, neatly groomed and dark as evening shadow; a pure and shining ebony that cloaks the entirety of his frame. So dark is Wraithstar’s pelt that the light of waxing noontide tints the fur a ghostly blue, granting its bearer a startling ethereality that seems to defy the secular.
As to Wraithstar’s muzzle, it, like the rest of his body is distinct and angular. His ears are broad, pointed and keen, tufted at the tips with small projections of ashen fur. The Leader’s eyes are almond-shaped; a voided, milky white, a familiar trait of his family line. Despite his blindness, there is a certain spark in eye, from whence radiates a deep wisdom that belies his relatively young seasons. His teeth are white, keenly sharpened and long, often peeking over the crest of his lower lip in a devilish, charming grin.
For all the wraith-like allure of Phantomstar’s body there is matched in his demeanor a devilish charm. He is outspoken and rebellious, flirtatious and unsubmissive with a keen eye for the theatric. Since kithood he has refused to accept the leadership of the rogues and has strove to defy them in every meaure imaginable. Though yet unaware of his heritage, StarClan seems to have imbued the tom with the spirit of rebellion essential to avenging his father.History:
In regard to corporeal prowess Wraithgaze is an expert strategist, with a keen paw for hunting, finely tuned senses of touch and smell and a vast wisdom in regard to tact. However, being a hopeless self-critic the young tom rarely passes on such knowledge save when it becomes absolute necessity. His constant pursuit of physical improvement borders on the obsessive and, through near constant bodily exertion, the tom has achieved a state of almost impossible dynamism, something that has proved helpful in dealing with the grusomely artful punishments of WinterClan's current Leader.
As to the tom’s tendencies regarding companionship and romance, they remain mostly shallow and flirtatious. Though he is vibrant and talkative, Wraithgaze seems to have very few close friends, save his sister, and has never possesssed any vestige of a true love interest. Love for the dark warrior seems to lean toward the singular affections of infatuated young queens, feelings little valued or noticed by the shadowed warrior. Wraithgaze’s deepest and true yearnings are for relationships of substance, comprised of feelings deeper than simple, fleeting attraction.
Though Wraithgaze is yet unaware, he was as a very young kit rescued from the invading rogues and adopted by a young WinterClan queen named Minnowpelt. His true parents, Loststar and his mate Ravenwing, were slaughtered that night. Wraithgaze has grown up knwing no mother but Minnowpelt, who has loved and cared for him, nurturing the rebellious contempt he feels for the outlaws ruling WinterClan.Role Playing Example:
Wraithgaze was a very intelligent kit and apprenticed two moons early by order of the ruthless WinterClan Leader. He was quickly put under the harsh tutelage of the clan’s rogue Deputy who viciously tested and tortured the kit, honing him into a keen and hardened warrior.
Wraithpaw was not however tainted to the point of unkindness, and remained to his friends and family, a sweet and well-meaning young cat. A few moons after his apprenticeship their was a territorial skirmish and Wraithpaw, despite his useless eyes, proved invaluable to WinterClan. He was immediately afterward given his warrior name. He has served WinterClan, though not its Leader, with utmost loyalty ever since.
As a warrior Wraithgaze has made very clear his derision for the hierarchial order of his clan and quite blatantly defies the high-ranking rogues who rule over him. His young seasons have seen him subjected to numerous creative and sinister means of punishment to no avail. His will remains unbroken, an unconscious testimony to his noble heritage.
[[Behold, an excerpt from Loststar's past...]]Codeword: Kaitou
Lostpaw padded with the silence of StarClan through the darkened wood. He scented the air at measured intervals, casting milky eyes blindly about, ears twisting and twitching with each slight sound. His mottled grey body was tensed, muscles painfully discernible beneath his smoky pelt. There was a look of perplexed worry upon his face as he continued in his search and after several moments of taxing silence his mentor looked upon him in concern.
“We will find her, Lostpaw, believe me… We will not give up.”
The young, blind cat gave a distracted nod, “Yes, I know, Snowstep… It’s just not like Thistledown to wander off like this…”
The older, white tom shook his head, “She was quite upset about what your brother said, surely you know that…”
The apprentice nodded and spat vehemently, his mottled grey tail lashing irritatedly back and forth, “Mothpaw is a fool…” He sat at the base of a large oak and curled his tail about his paws, still regularly scenting the air. “Certainly size has no bearing upon one’s being made a warrior. Besides it is for StarClan to decide… Not for Mothpaw… And…” The apprentice trailed off sheepishly, paws scuffing at the loamy earth.
Snowstep sat down beside his young companion, “Not for your father?”
The young cat nodded, staring sightlessly into the forbidding wood about them. “I suppose…”
The warrior gave his apprentice a friendly shove, “You will be a warrior without equal one day, Lostpaw. Without your sight and certainly without your father… I see within you the courage of LionClan and the cunning of the ancient TigerClan. Greatness…”
Lostpaw looked up, embarrassed and was about to endeavor a reply before his sensitive ears detected a frightened mew. He stood, padding, without beckoning his mentor, toward the familiar sound.
Snowstep rose as well, surprised, “What is it Lostpaw? Lostpaw slow down! Wait!”
The young tom ignored him, pressing on, into a thicket of bramble bushes, just small enough for him to squeeze his upper body into. “Thistlepaw?”
There was a sniff in reply followed by the rapid swabbing of a paw against a dampened cheek.
“Come now, Thistlepaw, everyone’s looking for you…”
A little grey she-cat ventured out from within the makeshift grotto and turned to face Lostpaw, muzzle streaked with tears, “What’s the use, I’ll never become a great warrior, not like you will. Not like Snowstep… I-I’m to small.” Thistlepaw buried her nose in her tiny paws.
Lostpaw endeavored to wriggle a bit further into the little cave of brambles, scratching his shoulders; he resisted the urge to cry out and pressed closer to his sister. “How dare you listen to that idiot Mothpaw! What does he know of greatness? What of honor? Of the Warrior Code? Nothing! He is a fool. So small in his own eyes that he must insult others to feel even a bit strong…” He stretched forward a paw to touch his younger sister’s. “Do you think me skilled?”
The little she-cat nodded vigorously.
“And brave?”
She nodded once more, more fervently.
“And I have achieved such greatness in your eyes without my sight, have I not?”
Thistlepaw nodded her head yet again.
“Than why should size prevent your becoming an even greater warrior than Snowstep?”
The tiny she-cat looked up, appearing pleasantly bewildered for a moment. After a brief silence a purr bloomed in her chest, “Why… It shouldn’t… And it won’t will it?” She rose to her paws, her shoulder brushing the top of the tiny cavern.
“Certainly not. Now, come… Everyone Snowstep and the others will be happy to know you are safe.” He backed with no small amount of difficulty from the thicket, followed closely by Thistlepaw. Giving her a lick between her diminutive ears he sighed. “Now, to find--” The scent of blood gave the apprentice pause.
Thistlepaw’s horror-stricken yowl rent the cool night air as from, across a brief expanse of grass, she spotted the white body of Snowstep, alight beneath the full moon with the shimmer of crimson blood.
Lostpaw knew at once what had so startled his sister and he stumbled blindly to his mentor’s blood-soaked side. “No… Snowstep…It can’t--”
Thistlepaw began to cry again.
“Go get help…” Lostpaw said hoarsely.
His sister looked startled.
“I said go get help… Quickly!”
The tiny she-cat nodded mutely and dashed away.
With muted horror the blind apprentice nuzzled his mentor’s body, anguish weighing in his belly. He lay, caring little of the warm blood that stained his back, against the once snowy breast of his mentor and sobbed quietly beneath the full and garish moon.
From a nearby patch of scraggly trees there was a satisfied and malevolent purr as Cragheart, traitorous warrior of WinterClan surveyed his grisly work.
