Snowsong - Fleetclan Warrior

[quicksilver]

Name: Snowsong

Age:
14 moons

Gender:
She-cat

Alliance:
Fleetclan

Rank:
Warrior



Outer Beauty:
Snowsong's most noticable feature is her eyes. She has two, lovely crystalline blue eyes. Her brother was born partially deaf, but she lucked out, getting to keep her lovely lazuli irises and still have full capability as a warrior. They're noticable because her pelt is completely white, and her eyes, nose and mouth are the only thing different, giving her face an incredible looking contrast. At night, they glow an eerie silver when hit by the right angle of moonlight or starlight along with the average amber.

As for the rest of the she-cat's face, her nose as well as the insides of her ears are a dainty pink. Not a splotch of black is on her nose, and she's missing the interesting tannish splotch that her brother happens to have on his muzzle. It makes Snowsong stand out, being devoid of any markings on her face and pelt. Snowsong doesn't have the normal shadowing around her eyes, it being lighter and more pinkish than what it would be on some other cats. Even her whiskers are a pale off-white; making her face look almost flawless.

Her face may be flawless, but her other trait that stands out is her tail; which is far from so. Being a lovely cat that seems almost regal if you catch her at the right moments, it's expected to find a lovely tail to complete the look. . . but that isn't so. Snowsong's tail? Is a bob. She has the little fluffball of a bobcat, a trait that hadn't been seen in her family for a long while. But both of her parents must have carried the trait, because Snowsong was the only cat in their litter that happened to adopt the gene.

It doesn't bother the cat, but her balance is a bit off compared to most other cats. She can still run faster than most Eternalclan or Mysteryclan warriors; no matter what she was a Fleetclan cat. But she has to be careful of her sharp turns, not having a tail to serve as her rudder to swing in another direction.

She's pretty small, coming in at a height of eight inches, two shorter than most domestic breeds. Snowsong is also only around ten pounds, light weight and not meeting the average fifteen. Being a small cat isn't something uncommon in her clan, Fleetclan known for it's small quick warriors. But like every one of those cats, it's still a setback for Snowsong when in battle with other cats. Luckily, she's incredibly fast, and uses that to her advantage the best she cat. She has the small paws with tough padding needed to run long distances without tiring very quickly.

Inner Beauty: (( Trying a new way of writing this ))
+ Snowsong is sweet, lending a helping paw without question or doing a job that most cats would consider a bother. Growing up with a bunch of elders can do that to you; her kithood and apprenticeship made up from friendships with the old, somewhat disabled felines. They looked out for her and she looked out for them, sneaking in an extra vole or rabbit with a specific elder in mind.

- Though the she-cat has a nasty temper. When a cat pokes fun at her soft spot for her older cats or her upbringing? She will attack. Snowsong may be small, but she has claws and teeth, making her just as dangerous as the next feline. She's pretty good at controling this trait, but when she lashes out, she pretty much flies off of the handle until she's forced away from higher ups, the other cat is incompasitated or she simply realizes that she's made a mistake. The latter rarely happens, and when it does Snowsong is incredibly guilt ridden, sometimes forgiving herself slower than the cat that she fought with.

+ Snowsong is known to smile away her problems, laughing when she feels like crying and the like. So far? Life hasn't been too traumatizing, so she has nothing to be miserable about in her eyes. She would rather be the anchor for some cat that needs it than mope around and be a burden. When someone else is upset, Snowsong will offer a comforting lick or nuzzle, this being the way that she was comforted by her adoptive father/uncle. If the other cat would rather not be touched, she'll respect that, but sometimes the action is done more out of her subconscience than her conscious self.

- Because of her way of getting through tough times, her temper flares even faster. It might just be the feul to most of her fires, lashing out and letting her feelings out that way. It's a habit that she picked up as an apprentice, and still isn't sure whether she has it as bad as she used to. When lashing out, any cat that does something that she might dissaprove of is a target, no matter how close said cat might be to Snowsong.

+ Snowsong is good with kittens as well as elders. She can still connect with them as if she was a kitten herself. When confronted with a problem with younger cats, it's easy for her to put herself in both kit or apprentice's shoes and try and help them out. Usually she's pretty affective, her sense of fairness being excellent for a cat her age and status. The feline is often seen as easy to confide in, especially for personal problems. She doesn't use her family as a sob story, but isn't afraid to speak about it. When she does speak about being left behind, Snowsong is always positive about it, glad that she's a Fleetclanner and not a kitty-pet or loner. She also speaks kindly of her uncle and the other elders. Both the kittens and the elders seem to like that.

-As accepting as she is with kittens and elders, she has a bit of a problem with patience. It's almost to be expected, low tolerance with a terrible temper. If a cat comes to her with a shallow outlook, or when they've done something wrong and won't come to terms with it out of stubbornness or pride? She will point a cat out on it, no matter what their age. Though she doesn't yowl and screech when she's angered, Snowsong will do her very best to set a cat with a thorn up their butt straight.

Past:
"You want me to take care of her?" Thisledown blinked, the elder not believing what his brother wanted of him. He couldn't look after this kitten! He was old and tired and she was full of energy and needed someone capable to look after her. Someone fatherlike and young and someone that could keep her out of trouble. Someone, anyone that wasn't him. This was ludicrous, his younger brother must have hit his head of he thought that he would serve as babysitter while he ran off with a kitty-pet she-cat.

"How do you think that her life will be here? Do you think she will be happy? Her parents gone and all to take care of her an old cat that might as well be her grandfather?! How do you think the other warriors will treat her? Her mother a kitty-pet and her father too scared of what his clanmates say about him to stick around!" The tom was furious! His brother must have had him wrong if he thought he'd have anything to do with this sceme to leave an innocent kitten behind.

"We can't carry all three, and if we have to cross Mysteryclan territory to get out of here. It's safer if we leave her here! I'm trying to look after my entire family. The kittens need their mother, and their mother just. . .she isn't meant for clan life." Tundrawind couldn't leave his mate behind, or let her leave him behind for that matter. She was leaving with one kitten in the morning, and was hearbroken to leave two behind but. . . that seemed to be the only way that she would make it out alive. With both she and her kitten alive no doubt. They had to cross Thunderpath and get through Shadowclan territory afterward. There was no way that she could carry a kitten and keep the other one safe from harm.

"She needs her kittens, they're her only blood family left. Please, take care of Snowkit." With a last plea, Tundrawind begged his brother to do what he couldn't. The kitten was just as loved as her siblings, but the other two were so close. He couldn't break them apart without them growing up heartbroken. "She's a sweet kitten, and won't cause you any trouble. The girl has quite the spirit, in fact? She reminds me of you."

How could Thisledown argue with that?
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She grew up to be sweet, but more trouble than Thisledown could ever imagine. Everything that a kitten could get into, she did. She knocked over the fresh kill pile more times than twice, wandered off more times than the old cat could count, and gotten into arguments and even fights with the other kittens. Not to mention that she stayed in the dens with the elders. He wasn't proud of his status, knowing that he had enough fight in him to defend his clan. But he was five years old, and had hurt his back leg so badly that he was more a burden than a warrior on the battlefield.

"Snowkit, stay in camp this time. And try to get along with the other kittens." Thisledown licked the kitten's head and she giggled, nuzzling her uncle and running off. She was an oddball, despite the trouble she got in. With everything she did wrong, she rarely had maliscious intent. This of course minus the fighting, that she-cat would grow up to have quite the temper no matter what he did to raise her.

Which led to another problem. Thisledown had no clue how to raise a kitten. He had, no matter how much that he hated admitting it, never had a mate. He was too much of a loner, too unapproachable when he was younger to attract anyone to himself. Not to say that he didn't have friends; his clanmates were kind to him, and treated him as kindly as they would any stranger. Meaning he had not the expierience with kits that most elders did at his age. He was hopeless to the crying when she missed her parents and siblings; knowing how to do nothing but what he would do a friend; giving her a nuzzle and a good firm lick to the face.

Because of this, Snowkit learned to get over her problems quickly. A comforting gesture worked as well as a song or days of moping alone. She was a few months old when her parents and siblings left, and though she loved them dearly, she could already eat meat, and she learned to love her uncle just as quickly. The kitten would always miss her family, but her big old uncle Thisledown was irriplacable after she watched him work so hard to take care of her.

She missed having other cats there, not her family. Her was her adopted father now.
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That's why when she was an apprentice, moss duty? Wasn't soemthing that she complained about. She knew all of the elders by name and who they were related to. The she-cat was a good listener, and probably knew more about the old toms and she-cats that didn't fight anymore than they did eachother. It was a blessing and a curse really; rarely were the felines angry with her when she did something wrong, but withough knowing it, the other new apprentices were slowly getting annoyed. No matter what she did, she stayed on the most senile part of the clan's good side.

So Snowpaw had more friends that were older than she did her age. This was a pattern that she noticed, but dind't let bother her. As long as they didn't make fun of her or anything, then the young she-cat would continue her apprenticeship being friends with old farts like her uncle. It didn't bother her, she had done just fine so far.

When she was nearing the end of her apprenticeship, that's when she realized just how lonely she should have been. She came upon a bigger tom, though he was still an apprentice. He seemed to be nice from what she saw around camp, but apparently the little she-cat was wrong. He was mocking her! Surrounded by the cats that she called her clanmates. By then, Snowpaw knew the meaning of the warrior code, and though there wasn't anything against poking fun, he wasn't being very kind! So. . . the apprentice showed him a piece of her mind. . .

Thisledown wasn't sure how to punish his kit for something that she had never been through before. Most cats her age were all about drama and getting along and being angry at eachother. Snowpaw, well, she had no knowledge of what kittens did when they interacted. So Thisledown punished her the best he could, but told her that she needed to make friends with other kittens. Be nice to them, and when she was bored, she should go find a cat her age that looked like they might be a good time.

Her mentor? Well, he was much more pissed than her uncle was. Snowpaw was put on moss duty, but only with other apprentices. She learned to work with the cat she picked a fight with especially. He was a big old kitten that was all talk from what she found. . .no wonder she won that fight. The two never became attatched at the hip, but they learned to tolerate each other's company.

Listening to her uncle's advice, paired with her mentor's punishment tactic; Snowpaw did make friends. She also found out that she was fretty friendly. Though confused why apprentices were always play fighting and challenging one another, Snowpaw learned to do the same. She was a competitive kit, and once she was allowed to go on hunting patrols and battle practices, she fought to win. The she-cat won less than half the time, but she never gave up.
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As a warrior, Snowsong is a tough little she-cat in battle and puts her heart into everything she does. She's a bit new to her rank, but isn't the cat to let that bring her down in the least.

Kin:
Thistledown - Uncle
Frostgale - Brother
Tundrawind - Father
Honeyfeather - Mother

IC Sample: ((Don't need it, but it gives me a good feeling for the character. ))
"What are you doing Oakwhisper?" The warrior said, laughing all the while. It was the perfect day for goofing off, the sun high in the sky and patrols out to fill the fresh kill pile. The only thing that could make Snowsong's day better? Was catching the tom that ran not three foxlength's away from her.

The she-cat's mouth turned from her hard-working scowl to a smile. He couldn't run all day! He had been a warrior longer, but she was older; and had been running aimlessly since kithood. She hadn't known the older tom for very long. In fact, not a moon ago the black fur and amber eyes of the warrior before her were completely new to her when it came to friendship. He seemed to be the same as any other snooty, uptight warrior here in Fleetclan; but he was just, well, reserved.

That's what Snowsong got for judging a book by it's cover.

A very strange cover indeed.

Because upon black fur, were even blacker stripes; and those amber eyes had the slightest hint of green. He was the most interesting cat she had ever had the pleasure to meet. And hunt with, and chase around the forest like she was still a kit or wild apprentice. If only the leader could see her now, just three moons ago he had announced her worthy of being a warrior for this clan and she was goofing off on a patrol.

Pawpads pressed lighly against the ground, barely making a sound as the young warrior ran faster. Her breathing was starting to pick up, her heartbeat accelerating with the effort he was putting into this game of cat and mouse. Snowstar's small frame seemed to float barely hitting the ground in her sprint across the plain. The cat had that natrual grace that came with almost every Fleetclan warrior. She was strong, almost completely muscle with all the running she did upon open fields. Rabbits beware, when Snowsong went on a hunt? She always came home with something.

"Oakwhisper!" Snowsong lept, limbs outstretched as she closed in and almost landed on the tom's back. But he slipped from her grip, and she wouldn't take out her claws at a time like this. "I got you, it's over." Her tinkling laugh was as light in spirits as the rest of her at that moment, her blue eyes twinkling in as a grin quickly spread to the she-cat's face. That was something about the warrior, she was always so warm. To those that got the pleasure to know her; Snowsong was friendly and a lot of fun; giving whatever time and effort she had to be around a cat that she called her friend.

She was a cat that was pretty easy to please. A sweetheart in the sense that she knew how to put a smile on another cat's face. Meaning that the warrior was more likely to smile than frown, or grin and tackle a cat rather than yowl and pitch a fit over loosing; even with her competitive spirit. Just don't make her out to be less intelligent or less strong because of her loss, size or gender. As warm as her personality may be? Her temper was extremely hot. "Now help me hunt so we don't go home empty handed."

Did you read the rules?
*edited out*

[S C O R P I A]

Accepted. Locked. Moved.

Lovely history, very unique.