Post by readysetdeath on Feb 19, 2017 22:52:41 GMT -5
Name: Lightningfoot
Age: 38 moons
Rank: Deputy
Gender: Male
Personality:
Lightningfoot is nothing short of proud and protective. He's not one to show outward affection much in public, and tries to give off an "I-don't-care" and "I'm-better-than-your-crap" attitude but he tends to fail at it, miserably. The easily offended tom is always ready to fight whoever insults him or those he cares about, though often only verbally. He's not afraid to unsheathed his claws, but never unless there's an actual physical threat - that doesn't mean he doesn't have a long list of comebacks to draw from. Despite his sometimes prissy attitude, he does care rather deeply for his clan and those closest to him, and even though he wishes that no one knew he cares so much, he knows the whole Clan knows anyways, and it's both oddly comforting and slightly infuriating.
All Lightningfoot ever wanted to do was to serve his clan well. A rock, if you will, a rock that just...moves very fast. He takes immense pride in his work as a warrior and, feels as if his title and role requires him to do just as much and more than everyone else - not just for the Clan, but for himself. He's not close with too many people, but he does put the Clan first. The prey he brings back and the borders he marks and defends are physical proof that he matters, that he's worth something; and nothing scares Boltstrike more than being a failure. He doesn't have friends, not many, but he does have his pride. The physical contributions he can make are proof he's not a waste of space after all - if he doesn't catch anything during leaf-bare, he's the first cat not to eat. If he did catch something and he's still not fed, however, well...he doesn't REALLY mind another cat getting his portion, he'd give it up anyway after he made sure EVERYONE knew just how much of a sacrifice he was making, but he'd definitely be sour for the rest of the day. Bitter, mostly, using annoyance and irritability to hide disappointment at himself - even if he had contributed, the clan was still suffering, so he should be the one to fix it, and he'd failed.
He did always want to be like his big brother. He was so good at everything, and Lightningfoot didn't seem to quite match up - maybe that's why he's so hard on himself, why he's so scared of failure. Once he earned his warrior name, however, he was determined to do whatever he could to make sure he could be the best warrior possible, and was almost more committed to his training than he had been as an apprentice (he was a rather moody apprentice, to be honest, so his commitment level fluctuated from time to time). And now, with the added rank of deputy, he's become even more hardworking, more protective, more critical of others and himself - he means well, but that doesn't mean he doesn't piss other cats off from time to time, but he's certainly there when it counts. Oh, and he certainly doesn't have too much time to lay around and socialize, which might be why he doesn't have any friends. Sitting idle bothers him too much.
Picture(Optional): N/A
Detailed Appearance: Lightningfoot is a mostly average-sized tom (he likes to insist he's slightly larger than average, but really, he's actually slightly smaller) with burnt orange eyes that are always moving too much for their own good. The same goes for his tail, the tip faded to a darker gold as opposed to the light yellow of his coat. His hair is slightly shorter than average, and the tips are just a bit lighter than the base. There are some darker stripes running along his back and sides, but they're few and faint enough that it's possible not to notice them in passing. His nose is a light pink, and his muzzle somewhere between white and dusty brown; his face is short and his left ear has a nick in it from when he scraped it on a sharp stick protruding from a bush when he was a few moons old.
History: Lightningfoot was born in a litter of three; one older brother and one younger sister. Growing up, ever so slightly taller than average, he was nothing compared to the size of his brother. What he lacked in size, he made up for in speed, however - he was certainly the fastest of the siblings, and lived up to his name. Thus, he grew to be insanely proud of his speed, capitalizing on it in any way possible as an apprentice and always trying to figure out how to improve it. Other cats tried to tell him there's more to hunting and fighting than just being fast, but it took him a while to realize that (and to be honest, he still doesn't believe them). He's fast, sure, but certainly not the fastest cat around - even so, his speed is a source of pride for him. Got his warrior name after a particularly memorable border skirmish where he joined the fray in the middle (he'd been hunting somewhere nearby) and struck "so fast they couldn't have seen it coming", as the story goes (but that was definitely more than a slight exaggeration).
Roleplay Sample:
Lightningfoot swiveled his ear backwards, listening as the chatter of the camp started to fade out behind him before turning his attention to the front. She had been one of the first ones to get food, and the last one to shut up, and now she was still taking a nap. Did she really have nothing better to do other than reject Ambernose? And oh, he had plenty to say about the sleezy, lazy tom, but that wasn't where his mind should be right now. He had set his mission to check the back border, where no one ever really went to much, before going on the hunting patrol. If he wanted to catch as much as he had been the past few days and still have time to remark the order, he'd have to stay focused. Nevertheless, his thoughts kept wandering back to the sleeping tabby and the sneaky tom...she hadn't even finished all her frog yet!
A cracking noise startled him out of his thoughts, and he whipped his head around at the noise. Whatever prey had been there was gone now (he was pretty sure he could see the outline of a vole darting between the trees), and he hadn't even realized it was there. Fuming, he stomped off in the other direction, ears flat against his skull. Stupid. Even if he WASN'T technically hunting at the moment, he still shouldn't have let himself get so careless. It could have been an easy catch, that he could have come and picked up later; that is, assuming she didn't wake up, steal it from him and pretend she caught it herself. Lazy, fox-brained-
No. He had to focus. Even though he was just marking a mostly unused border, he still should be alert. He should ALWAYS be alert outside the camp, just in case. Just in case something happened.
Oh, he's finally reached the border. The scent was starting to die out, but it didn't seem like any cats, loner or otherwise, had come near it...good. Less for the clan to worry about. He settled on rubbing against a nearby bush, beginning the slow going of marking the border. He wasn't particularly fond of border patrol, as there wasn't really a way to make it go faster, but he would at the very least be damn methodical about it. It would give him time to blow of steam, the eternal steam that never quite seemed to entirely go away.
Other: Making siblings for adoption thread
Number of Cats: 1
Age: 38 moons
Rank: Deputy
Gender: Male
Personality:
Lightningfoot is nothing short of proud and protective. He's not one to show outward affection much in public, and tries to give off an "I-don't-care" and "I'm-better-than-your-crap" attitude but he tends to fail at it, miserably. The easily offended tom is always ready to fight whoever insults him or those he cares about, though often only verbally. He's not afraid to unsheathed his claws, but never unless there's an actual physical threat - that doesn't mean he doesn't have a long list of comebacks to draw from. Despite his sometimes prissy attitude, he does care rather deeply for his clan and those closest to him, and even though he wishes that no one knew he cares so much, he knows the whole Clan knows anyways, and it's both oddly comforting and slightly infuriating.
All Lightningfoot ever wanted to do was to serve his clan well. A rock, if you will, a rock that just...moves very fast. He takes immense pride in his work as a warrior and, feels as if his title and role requires him to do just as much and more than everyone else - not just for the Clan, but for himself. He's not close with too many people, but he does put the Clan first. The prey he brings back and the borders he marks and defends are physical proof that he matters, that he's worth something; and nothing scares Boltstrike more than being a failure. He doesn't have friends, not many, but he does have his pride. The physical contributions he can make are proof he's not a waste of space after all - if he doesn't catch anything during leaf-bare, he's the first cat not to eat. If he did catch something and he's still not fed, however, well...he doesn't REALLY mind another cat getting his portion, he'd give it up anyway after he made sure EVERYONE knew just how much of a sacrifice he was making, but he'd definitely be sour for the rest of the day. Bitter, mostly, using annoyance and irritability to hide disappointment at himself - even if he had contributed, the clan was still suffering, so he should be the one to fix it, and he'd failed.
He did always want to be like his big brother. He was so good at everything, and Lightningfoot didn't seem to quite match up - maybe that's why he's so hard on himself, why he's so scared of failure. Once he earned his warrior name, however, he was determined to do whatever he could to make sure he could be the best warrior possible, and was almost more committed to his training than he had been as an apprentice (he was a rather moody apprentice, to be honest, so his commitment level fluctuated from time to time). And now, with the added rank of deputy, he's become even more hardworking, more protective, more critical of others and himself - he means well, but that doesn't mean he doesn't piss other cats off from time to time, but he's certainly there when it counts. Oh, and he certainly doesn't have too much time to lay around and socialize, which might be why he doesn't have any friends. Sitting idle bothers him too much.
Picture(Optional): N/A
Detailed Appearance: Lightningfoot is a mostly average-sized tom (he likes to insist he's slightly larger than average, but really, he's actually slightly smaller) with burnt orange eyes that are always moving too much for their own good. The same goes for his tail, the tip faded to a darker gold as opposed to the light yellow of his coat. His hair is slightly shorter than average, and the tips are just a bit lighter than the base. There are some darker stripes running along his back and sides, but they're few and faint enough that it's possible not to notice them in passing. His nose is a light pink, and his muzzle somewhere between white and dusty brown; his face is short and his left ear has a nick in it from when he scraped it on a sharp stick protruding from a bush when he was a few moons old.
History: Lightningfoot was born in a litter of three; one older brother and one younger sister. Growing up, ever so slightly taller than average, he was nothing compared to the size of his brother. What he lacked in size, he made up for in speed, however - he was certainly the fastest of the siblings, and lived up to his name. Thus, he grew to be insanely proud of his speed, capitalizing on it in any way possible as an apprentice and always trying to figure out how to improve it. Other cats tried to tell him there's more to hunting and fighting than just being fast, but it took him a while to realize that (and to be honest, he still doesn't believe them). He's fast, sure, but certainly not the fastest cat around - even so, his speed is a source of pride for him. Got his warrior name after a particularly memorable border skirmish where he joined the fray in the middle (he'd been hunting somewhere nearby) and struck "so fast they couldn't have seen it coming", as the story goes (but that was definitely more than a slight exaggeration).
Roleplay Sample:
Lightningfoot swiveled his ear backwards, listening as the chatter of the camp started to fade out behind him before turning his attention to the front. She had been one of the first ones to get food, and the last one to shut up, and now she was still taking a nap. Did she really have nothing better to do other than reject Ambernose? And oh, he had plenty to say about the sleezy, lazy tom, but that wasn't where his mind should be right now. He had set his mission to check the back border, where no one ever really went to much, before going on the hunting patrol. If he wanted to catch as much as he had been the past few days and still have time to remark the order, he'd have to stay focused. Nevertheless, his thoughts kept wandering back to the sleeping tabby and the sneaky tom...she hadn't even finished all her frog yet!
A cracking noise startled him out of his thoughts, and he whipped his head around at the noise. Whatever prey had been there was gone now (he was pretty sure he could see the outline of a vole darting between the trees), and he hadn't even realized it was there. Fuming, he stomped off in the other direction, ears flat against his skull. Stupid. Even if he WASN'T technically hunting at the moment, he still shouldn't have let himself get so careless. It could have been an easy catch, that he could have come and picked up later; that is, assuming she didn't wake up, steal it from him and pretend she caught it herself. Lazy, fox-brained-
No. He had to focus. Even though he was just marking a mostly unused border, he still should be alert. He should ALWAYS be alert outside the camp, just in case. Just in case something happened.
Oh, he's finally reached the border. The scent was starting to die out, but it didn't seem like any cats, loner or otherwise, had come near it...good. Less for the clan to worry about. He settled on rubbing against a nearby bush, beginning the slow going of marking the border. He wasn't particularly fond of border patrol, as there wasn't really a way to make it go faster, but he would at the very least be damn methodical about it. It would give him time to blow of steam, the eternal steam that never quite seemed to entirely go away.
Other: Making siblings for adoption thread
Number of Cats: 1
