Post by ADMIN~! on Aug 25, 2008 17:55:01 GMT -8
N a m e: Greywhisper
G e n d e r: Tom
A g e: Fifty-seven moons
C l a n: HorizonClan
R a n k: Senior Warrior
I m a g e: i33.tinypic.com/2wd3gg8.jpg
F a m i l y: Mother:; Birchtail [deceased]
Father:; Finchfur [deceased]
Sister:; Cloverfire
M a t e: None
K i t s: None
C o m p a n i o n:
With an ungainly hop and excited squeak, Greywhisper‘s Companion often pops out from behind him in the middle of a conversation, revealing herself as a tiny, crippled kitten called Ghost. She‘s owns a permanently fluffy pelt of white with orange splatters and a bright, curious blue eye. The other was swollen shut at birth and had extra skin growing over, deforming her face to something almost nauseating. However, that isn‘t the extent of her problems as she has a crooked nose and a lame paw, but she doesn‘t let it get her down. As far at the kit is concerned, she is happy to be alive, and with good reason.
Before she was a Companion, Ghost had been a real live kit years before Greywhisper was even born, with nothing wrong with her and even a gorgeous face. She was looked on by her mother who said she would have a great future, but was unfortunately murdered brutally by a vicious rogue at hardly the age of one moon. Taken away prematurely and in such a horrifying way, StarClan granted her one more chance at life as Ghost, though with the restrictions of her misshapen body and being part of Greywhisper’s soul. However, that didn’t bother her in the least.
On the contrary, being born again, and even the way she was, Ghost was happier than she had been before. She had a second chance at life and a duty to fill as the gentle Companion of her beloved Greywhisper. She alone holds the power to unlock his heart and make him smile when he’s feeling down, and to him, she’s like the child he never had. Laughing and tumbling, Ghost has kept the qualities of a kit such as the intense curiosity and the willingness to play whenever given the chance. To her, life is a big never-ending party that she never wants to leave.
Q u i c k . P h y s i c a l:
A rather unkempt-looking grey tom with dark grey-blue eyes and dark grey and black stripes.
F u l l . P h y s i c a l:
It‘s obvious by just looking at Greywhisper that he is older than the average warrior, but he doesn‘t let that get him down. Instead, he proudly shows off his scarred body, a testament against time and the harshness of the life of a warrior. This fur is an average grey, but is covered in dark stripes ranging from a smoke colour to black. It‘s mangled and marred looking, as if unkempt and grows is all directions around his scar tissue. It gives him a fierce look, almost a scary one which is only intensified by his quiet brooding.
He is fairly thin, almost painfully so, but he useless that to advantage while on the field. He can tread lightly through the forest and grasses, making hunting easier on his inability to hear things as clearly as he once did. It also allows him to move quickly and nimbly in battle while his razor sharp claws flash through the bloodlust; being a light in weight also disadvantages him though, as there is nothing heavy behind his attacks and he can be thrown off without much trouble. Of course, he is a tom and therefore larger than females, and his pawsteps are certain.
With dark blue eyes, Greywhisper‘s gaze can be hard to meet at times for the effect they create. One certain days, especially those that are cloudy, it‘s like he can stare right through you and see the personal deceptions, but of course, that‘s impossible. They‘re often smiling, but guarded with a barrier that is not to be crossed except for that of his Companion, Ghost. His gaze softens at the site of her, amplifying the smile to almost brilliant lengths. His muzzle is longer than most cats, creating a wizened look.
P e r s o n a l i t y:
For the most part, Greywhisper is a fairly quiet cat, serious in gaze and thoughtful in posture. After a life-altering fire that damaged his vocal chords, speech doesn‘t come easily and he is easily embarrassed through his garbled words that are hardly recognisable, therefore preferring to just sit on the sidelines and just watch. He is extremely attentive and an excellent listener, especially for those in need of an ear. He loves helping others, though even more so than helping others, Greywhisper loves the friendship he holds with his fellow cats. Call him old and a softie, but there is nothing more golden to him than those he loves.
He rarely shows his affection though, preferring to leave such outward displays of emotions to the younger generation. He had a mate once upon a time, a she-cat he loved very much, but she died after an unfortunate bout of greencough. Since then, after accepting her death, he found himself being more comfortable as a warrior who stayed very much at tail‘s length with everyone else. Not even his beloved sister, the only family he has left, can stir much more than a nudge of affection out of him. The only one able to really pull his heartstrings is his crippled, monstrous-looking kitten of a Companion, Ghost. Every time the small kit rubs against him, curling her small tail around his leg, he cannot help but crack a smile.
Being such a distant cat, Greywhisper often comes across as cold and stuck-up, even if it is quite the opposite. He can even be rather stern at times, especially when it comes to breaking the warrior code, a law and way of life he lives by to the T. In his opinion, rule-breakers should be punished severely so they may understand what being a warrior is about, but of course, such acts are rarely passed, not that he would do anything violent. For that reason, he can hold an air of superiority at times, though he tries not to. With the help of Ghost, he can usually soften towards others and sometimes join in on conversation. It can be hard, but being senior warrior, he has learned to steel himself forwards and don‘t look back. Never look back.
H i s t o r y:
Born to the loving and caring parents of Finchfur and Birchtail, Greykit know nothing but love and happiness as a kit with his sister, Cloverkit. He was like a typical kitten; curious; playful; willing to jump into anything including piles of leaves covered in mouse bile. He liked being in the nursery with the rest of his family and like some kits, had no urge to create mischief. He feared punishment from his parents and was perfectly content to play with what was provided. Like all kits though, he eagerly awaited the he would become an apprentice with his sister. The days seemed long and dragged on forever as he waited and waited, but finally, at the age of six moons, he was moved from the measly rank of a kit to that of one that really mattered: an apprentice. For the first time in his short life, he had responsibilities and things he was supposed to do, and he relished in the tasks. He had been assigned to a sweet, but fairly quiet she-cat named Lilyfur. He immediately fell head over heels for her delicate amber eyes and misty grey pelt, and tried his hardest to please her. Needless to say, it was a promising start for Greypaw‘s future.
However, the bright tomorrow was cut short as a forest fire raged through the HorizonClan one hot summer, devastating the clan and ruining their home. It was a tragic day as cats looked on with horror in their hearts from the other side of the lake, watching their home burn to ashes and then realising that an apprentice and an elder were missing. Unfortunately, the apprentice in question was Greypaw who had been coming back from a solitary hunt only to find everything ablaze. Terror struck his features, transfiguring them into something unrecognizable as he fought to find a way out. The scent of burnt prey and fear ran high, and he happened to stumble across an still body, the bracken pelt of Cherrystream. As he stared on to the face of one of HorizonClan‘s beloved elders, an eerie silence seemed to take hold of the forest while the fire still raged and a numbness slithered up his legs. His eyes were wide, and in that second, he knew he would die alone and among the seemingly non-existent heat. Beside him sat a bewildered and frightened Ghost, his Companion, and she was huddled against his side. His heart seemed to stop beating and time slowed to a halt, and then as he turned around, facing the fire, a great pulse echoed throughout the forest and he staggered over, breaking him leg. Just then, a grey-white streak leapt out of the fire and he recognized the form of Lilyfur.
It wasn‘t until a few days later that he regained consciousness and he held no recollection of the entire incident. In the Medicine Den he lay, on his side and covered in salves as most of his fur had burned away. Off in the corner sat Lilyfur, looking upset and dishevelled, but he immediately brightened at the sight of her. As he sat up to mew out a greeting, only a painful gurgling sound passed by his vocal chords and he relapsed into hacking and coughing, while the medicine cat leapt up to treat her patient. He was told that he was very lucky to have survived, but his voice had been badly damaged by breathing in so much smoke. He would need to return to the medicine den every morning for some herbs for about a month or so, and it would be about two before he regained his full pelt. Dismayed at the news, Greypaw nodded mutely and curled up beside his mentor to grab some sleep while she looked on in sadness. For the following months, it was a tough time for the small apprentice. Now rendered practically mute, he could no longer converse with his peers and without his fur, he was beyond ugly. Even Lilyfur tended not to look at him for long periods of time until it finally grew back. However, even by then, he felt different and alone. Ghost remained at his side, eternally loyal and supporting.
Clinging close to his mentor, Greypaw focused all his efforts in training and hunting, trying to please the clan and prove he was the same cat as before. His once broken leg had long since mended but was sometimes weak, especially after a long day. Lilyfur did her best to remain a friend and mentor, guiding him through life and towards the correct path. He was an attentive listener and good learner, and the grey-white cat felt a certain fondness for him. As the rest of his apprenticeship passed by, she, mirroring Greypaw‘s feelings, fell for his sweet heart and unwavering determination. As he became a warrior by the name of Greywhisper, in honour of his gentleness, they took on each other as mates. He loved her like no other and at times even the happy-go-lucky Ghost would become jealous. She was his entire life, his passion, his freedom. He never felt more alive than he did around her, even in the darkest of hours. Bright and happy like a butterfly I the air, the duo soared through life, only to be shot down mercilessly. On a hunting trip out at the north end of Eagle‘s Craig, a fairly desperate young eagle swept down and attacked the small female. After receiving devastating wounds and slaying the bird, she lay on the meadow, slowly dying, while Greywhisper comforted her the best that he could. Being no medicine cat and so far away from the camp, there was nothing he could do.
After that, his days were filled with sadness and it was if the world had greyed over. There was no life for him, no happiness, and not even his lifetime friend could cheer him up, no matter how hard she tried. He moped for almost an entire year before the leader finally approached him, saying that his abilities as a warrior were lacking and Lilyfur would not have wanted that. She had always been confident in his abilities, and he realised that the leader was right. Though it was hard beyond all measure, he rose out of the rut he had fallen into to serve his clan as Lilyfur would have wanted. As time passed and he got older, he moved up to the senior warrior, much to his delight and he knew then that he was forgiven. Lilyfur and StarClan had finally forgiven him for letting his love die, and feeling so dead himself. For the most part, nothing exciting has happened since then except for his new apprentice Goldenpaw, a lively creature that reminds him of his mate.
O v e r a l l:
The moment Greywhisper starts talking, it’s easy to realise that something is wrong with him and that something in past went wrong. The weathered, grey tabby tom has a hoarse, sometimes incomprehensible voice from breathing in smoke when he was younger from a forest fire. Luckily it wasn’t too much, and the Medicine Cat was able to save him, but his vocal cords were permanently damaged. Since then he’s been fairly silent, for the awkwardness his voice creates, but does chatter on occasion. His pelt is mangy, like he doesn’t take care to wash it regularly. His face isn’t exactly good looking, but it does have a particular handsome quality to it. He has a longer, grey-flecked muzzle, with intense, brooding near-black eyes, and his pelt is grey with darker stripes. His legs are somewhat stiff, but he’s incredibly fast and has claws like razors; his fighting skills are top notch. However, being over five years old, he can no longer scent things as well as he could, and his hunting isn’t great anymore. He prefers to leave that to the younger warriors, while he goes on patrols with his Companion, Ghost. Ghost is a small kitten of orange and white fur, deformed with a lame paw, crooked nose and only one functioning eye. She died as a kit, but was given a second chance by StarClan as Greywhisper’s Companion. She’s a happy-go-lucky little thing, and is like a daughter to the stern-faced tom. She brings out the sweetness in him, and will often pad beside him with perked ears, or try to ride his back while on a patrol, though that rarely works. The two love to curl up in the Warriors Den together, or watch the sunset from the Eastern Plains.
S a m p l e:
See Pinepaw.
C o d e . P h r a s e: Starlit Sorrows[/font]