Post by Lightbulb on Jul 11, 2011 8:35:50 GMT -6
Name:
Misthawk
Age:
44 moons
Gender:
She-cat
Alliance:
MysteryClan
Rank:
Deputy
Outer Beauty:
The first thing that most cats see when they look at Misthawk is a small cat. They tend not to notice the sturdy, lean build and wiry muscles beneath her layers of feathery fur. They miss the battle scars, the nocked ears, the sharp and deadly look in her silvery eyes. The places where claw marks have left her fur growing white from the damaged skin. They see a little she-cat with an impeccably groomed pelt and immediately think of weakness. Misthawk is all too often dismissed as a threat.
No one ever does that twice. By the second meeting, they know very well who Misthawk is. While she is extraordinarily small, leading to her sometimes being mistaken for an apprentice, Misthawk has proven herself over and over again to be capable of holding her own. She is fast, she is agile, and she strides straight into danger without flinching, explaining many of her scars. Although since she is admittedly light as far as weight, she adapts by moving fast and in unexpected ways, in order to keep her enemy from getting a good grip on her.
Looking at Misthawk objectively, one could consider her pretty. She is surrounded by a carefully-groomed, layered aurora of long blue-grey fur, ticked with silver, and with white streaks marking her worst scars. Her eyes are a pale, silvery blue-grey, and quite striking, although they normally have an ominous look to them. Misthawk moves with the careful grace of a dancer, both on and off the battlefield, and she walks with confidence and pride.
Inner Beauty:
Misthawk is, first and foremost, in all she does, a deputy. Her Clan is her life, and every breath she takes is expended on furthering the interests of MysteryClan. She is single-minded and devoted to the point of obsession. She has no personal life, no close relationships with any cat, as all of her relatives are dead. Mutual respect is about as friendly as she gets with anyone.
Misthawk is, despite her stature, quite intimidating. She relies on her attitude and actions rather than appearance to earn respect, so she makes sure that those things are worthy of respect. The deputy is almost never loud, and always deadly serious, speaking in a low, almost monotone voice. She does not joke, and if she uses sarcasm it is extraordinarily unusual. Misthawk does not make idle threats, and neither does she lie unless her duty to her Clan mandates it.
Since she has no patience for slackers or fools, Misthawk helps run a very tight ship in MysteryClan. She greatly appreciates order and neatness, including in one's appearance, which is why she keeps herself carefully and neatly groomed at all times. She is uncomfortable with kits and avoids them whenever possible, and she is often harsher on apprentices than most other cats, expecting more of them and criticizing or punishing them more sternly. Misthawk is not a friendly cat, focusing more on accomplishing tasks than on socializing. If she has time to chat, she would rather spend it hunting or organizing patrols.
Misthawk is also an excellent strategist and tactician. She is constantly working on new battle techniques, and keeping close track of the political situation among the Clans, making her an apt and useful advisor to the MysteryClan leader. As deputy, she has made it clear in MysteryClan that her orders are to be obeyed unquestioningly, and she does not take kindly to other cats undermining her authority. Misthawk answers only to the leader and to StarClan, meaning that she follows and enforces the Warrior Code very strictly.
She is often asked to teach new apprentices the basics of her style of fighting, since as it is built around her small and light stature, it is ideal for the diminutive apprentices. Although she is very tough on those apprentices that make it through her classes, those that do earn her respect, and are more likely to survive attacks early in their apprenticeships. Thus, while she avoids kits like greencough, Misthawk does interact a good bit with them once they become apprentices.
Misthawk is supremely logical and will always do what she believes is best for her Clan. Despite her harsh attitude, she would give her life in a heartbeat for any member of MysteryClan. She is careful, circumspect, observant, and quiet, which means that she finds out a lot and reveals very little. She loathes those who she perceives as breaking the Warrior Code, and will show no mercy to anyone who does.
Past:
Misthawk was born as part of a litter of two, to a pair of extremely dedicated and loyal MysteryClan cats. Her mother's name was Greyfoot, and her father was Bitterleaf. Bitterleaf was an earnest, if not especially skilled warrior, who worked hard and always had a kind word for everyone. Greyfoot was a sweet-tempered she-cat and a very young queen, especially considering that Mistkit was part of her second litter. Her first litter contained only one kit, Cloudkit, who was born very small and weak and died after only a couple of moons. Mistkit's sister Fogkit was strong and of good size, much to her parents' relief, but Mistkit was like Cloudkit had been, small and weak. Sadly, her parents resigned themselves to the loss of another kit.
However, Mistkit held on, and after a while became just as active as her larger sister. Greyfoot and Bitterleaf were hugely relieved, and doted on the kits. However, Misthawk always seemed more distant from them despite their babying of her, stemming perhaps from the emotional distance they kept for the first couple moons of her life, when they thought that she would die.
It soon became apparent to Mistkit that no one expected as much of her as they did of Fogkit. Fogkit was a lively, well-liked cat, similar to her parents. The bigger kit was encouraged to play actively, while Mistkit was told to sit quietly and play without overexerting herself. Mistkit hated this from the start, often sneaking away to play by herself. Very soon this play turned into practice for apprenticeship, as Mistkit was eager to become a great warrior and to serve her Clan well. This hard work increased exponentially when Mistkit overheard her parents discussing delaying her apprenticeship, or even canceling it altogether!
Mistkit felt betrayed by her parents, who did not believe in her, and she was determined to outdo her naturally talented sister. Luckily for her, the MysteryClan leader saw this potential in her, and allowed her to be apprenticed at the same time as Fogkit. Mistpaw impressed her mentor, a warrior named Pebblefur, by working longer and harder than the other apprentices, and by spending her free time volunteering for extra hunting or patrol duties, or working on her fighting techniques. Pebblefur helped Mistpaw develop the beginnings of her current fighting style.
However, when Mistpaw was 10 moons old, Pebblefur died of sickness, which also took Mistpaw's mother, Greyfoot. Mistpaw was given a new mentor, Yellowtail, who was vicious-spirited and dishonorable. Mistpaw detested him, and spent the next couple of moons attempting to avoid him while picking up the rest of her warrior training on her own. His cruelty, carelessness and abuse helped to undo the good that Pebblefur's kindness and faith had done for Mistpaw.
Shortly before Mistpaw and Fogpaw reached 12 moons of age, they were on a patrol with Yellowtail, Fogpaw's mentor, and Bitterleaf when their patrol was attacked by rogue cats. Bitterleaf, who was not a talented fighter, was killed almost immediately, his throat ripped out by a huge rogue tom. Fogpaw and her mentor fought together, but Yellowtail ran for his life, leaving Mistpaw to fend for herself. While most of the rogues focused on the seemingly greater threat of a warrior and a large apprentice, and a few raced after the fleeing Yellowtail, one large tom attacked the tiny Mistpaw, who was forced to put the techniques that she and Pebblefur had worked out to the test for the first time.
The rogue tom was large and unwieldy, and he underestimated her strength and speed, allowing Mistpaw to practically run circles around him, clawing and snapping at the soft areas of his throat and stomach. When her opponent ran away bleeding and caterwauling, Mistpaw looked to Fogpaw and her mentor. To her horror, Fogpaw's mentor was trying to fight off two rogues, while a third one had Mistpaw's sister pinned down.
Mistpaw hurtled to her sister's aid, making a massive leap and barreling into the side of the rogue on top of Fogpaw. The tiny apprentice used all her force to knock the rogue off-balance, then went for the throat before the enemy she-cat could react. The rogue fell dead, but Fogpaw was already breathing her last rattling breath, a pool of blood spreading around her. Mistpaw cried out in sorrow, but raced to help Fogpaw's mentor. Together they drove off the remaining rogues, and eventually located Yellowtail's body, where he'd been run down and slaughtered.
Mistpaw was given the warrior name Misthawk just after that battle, for her incredible attack, which Fogpaw's mentor said had resembled that of a diving hawk.
Misthawk worked hard as a warrior, although she never grew close to anycat after the death of her father and sister. She continued to go above and beyond the call of duty in her everyday life, and to serve MysteryClan loyally. She was given one apprentice, a cat named Pondpaw, who is now a warrior named Pondgrass. Although Pondgrass respects Misthawk, he was always too afraid of her to open up, and so they never had a close relationship.
At the age of 36 moons, Misthawk was chosen as deputy, and ever since she has been applying all her skills and time to ensuring that her Clan remains fed, dry, warm, and safe.
Kin:
Mother- Greyfoot, deceased
Father- Bitterleaf, deceased
Sister- Fogpaw, deceased
Brother- Cloudkit, deceased
IC Sample:
It was foggy out today. Foggy days were special… Fog obscured things. It made the familiar unfamiliar, ghostly. It was fitting, Misthawk had always thought, for MysteryClan, the clan of unknowns and secrets. One saw things in the fog, shapes, dreams. It was unsettling, really.
The camp was dead quiet, no one else awake this early in the morning. Misthawk, diminutive deputy of MysteryClan, sat silently at the entrance to the warriors' den, looking out into the swirling mist that clung to the ground and curled up in wisps and airy curves. Her feathery tail of blue-gray, silver-tipped fur was curled neatly around her paws, and she stared out straight with her clear silvery eyes, at nothing at all. It was a moment of peace before she threw herself into work for the day. Even this most devoted of deputies allowed herself that, now and again.
What Misthawk saw in the fog was a memory… A memory of long ago, when Misthawk was still Mistpaw, and when the gray she-cat still had a family.
"Mistpaw, wake up!" It was the familiar loud voice of Fogpaw. "We have morning patrol!" Fogpaw took after their father, mostly white with slate-grey on her head and tail, and she looked filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, not an unusual state for the rambunctious apprentice.
Mistpaw sat up with a start. "What?" she asked, bewildered. "Yellowtail never said anything!"
Fogpaw flicked her tail. "He probably forgot or something," she offered, generously giving the ill-tempered mentor much more credit than he deserved. "But come on, we're going to be late!"
Mistpaw got to her feet quickly, muttering to her sister as she wriggled her way out of the apprentices' den. "Who else is coming?"
"Father's coming, and so is Darkthroat, of course." Fogpaw named her mentor, an affable but capable cat.
Mistpaw looked up as she exited the den and saw them assembled. First there were Darkthroat and Yellowtail, arrayed against one another as if put there just for the contrast. Darkthroat had rich chocolate fur, fading to near-black at his head, tail, and feet, and in personality he was almost ideal, although Mistpaw still thought her old mentor Pebblefur superior. Then there was Yellowtail, a plump, pale-furred cat with a vicious personality and a cruel streak. Still, maybe it was better that Misthawk had ended up with the detestable mentor. Mistpaw was stronger than Fogpaw- the smaller sister knew that, even if no one else did- and where Fogpaw would have broken down under Yellowtail's taunts and his verbal and physical abuse, Mistpaw just took it and kept on going. Life had thrown a lot at Mistpaw- she bounced back, she always did.
Then there was her family. Since their mother Greyfoot had died in the same outbreak of illness that had stolen Pebblefur away, Fogpaw and Bitterleaf, their father, were all the kin that Misthawk had left. They were so much alike, the father and his larger daughter, in looks and personality, that Mistpaw often felt left out anyways. Of course, that was nothing new. One would think she would be used to it by now.
"I apologize for my lateness." Mistpaw dipped her head to the warriors who had been forced to wait while Fogpaw went to wake her up. "It will not happen again."
While the other warriors nodded back in acknowledgement, Yellowtail just snorted and shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently. "Can we get going? It's too cold to be out for long."
"Let us go, then," agreed Darkthroat, and the patrol moved out into MysteryClan territory. Mistpaw brought up the rear, hoping that things would go all right today. Hoping that Yellowtail wouldn't ruin everything. Again.
Sighing, Misthawk shook her head and glanced back over her shoulder, into the den, to see if she could spot any signs of movement, of waking warriors. If they slept for too much longer she would wake them up, but for now the cats of MysteryClan needed their rest. Misthawk would lead the morning patrol herself today, and they would have to be extra thorough due to the bad visibility.
After all, who knew what could be lurking out there in the mist?
Did you read the rules?
*edited out*
Misthawk
Age:
44 moons
Gender:
She-cat
Alliance:
MysteryClan
Rank:
Deputy
Outer Beauty:
The first thing that most cats see when they look at Misthawk is a small cat. They tend not to notice the sturdy, lean build and wiry muscles beneath her layers of feathery fur. They miss the battle scars, the nocked ears, the sharp and deadly look in her silvery eyes. The places where claw marks have left her fur growing white from the damaged skin. They see a little she-cat with an impeccably groomed pelt and immediately think of weakness. Misthawk is all too often dismissed as a threat.
No one ever does that twice. By the second meeting, they know very well who Misthawk is. While she is extraordinarily small, leading to her sometimes being mistaken for an apprentice, Misthawk has proven herself over and over again to be capable of holding her own. She is fast, she is agile, and she strides straight into danger without flinching, explaining many of her scars. Although since she is admittedly light as far as weight, she adapts by moving fast and in unexpected ways, in order to keep her enemy from getting a good grip on her.
Looking at Misthawk objectively, one could consider her pretty. She is surrounded by a carefully-groomed, layered aurora of long blue-grey fur, ticked with silver, and with white streaks marking her worst scars. Her eyes are a pale, silvery blue-grey, and quite striking, although they normally have an ominous look to them. Misthawk moves with the careful grace of a dancer, both on and off the battlefield, and she walks with confidence and pride.
Inner Beauty:
Misthawk is, first and foremost, in all she does, a deputy. Her Clan is her life, and every breath she takes is expended on furthering the interests of MysteryClan. She is single-minded and devoted to the point of obsession. She has no personal life, no close relationships with any cat, as all of her relatives are dead. Mutual respect is about as friendly as she gets with anyone.
Misthawk is, despite her stature, quite intimidating. She relies on her attitude and actions rather than appearance to earn respect, so she makes sure that those things are worthy of respect. The deputy is almost never loud, and always deadly serious, speaking in a low, almost monotone voice. She does not joke, and if she uses sarcasm it is extraordinarily unusual. Misthawk does not make idle threats, and neither does she lie unless her duty to her Clan mandates it.
Since she has no patience for slackers or fools, Misthawk helps run a very tight ship in MysteryClan. She greatly appreciates order and neatness, including in one's appearance, which is why she keeps herself carefully and neatly groomed at all times. She is uncomfortable with kits and avoids them whenever possible, and she is often harsher on apprentices than most other cats, expecting more of them and criticizing or punishing them more sternly. Misthawk is not a friendly cat, focusing more on accomplishing tasks than on socializing. If she has time to chat, she would rather spend it hunting or organizing patrols.
Misthawk is also an excellent strategist and tactician. She is constantly working on new battle techniques, and keeping close track of the political situation among the Clans, making her an apt and useful advisor to the MysteryClan leader. As deputy, she has made it clear in MysteryClan that her orders are to be obeyed unquestioningly, and she does not take kindly to other cats undermining her authority. Misthawk answers only to the leader and to StarClan, meaning that she follows and enforces the Warrior Code very strictly.
She is often asked to teach new apprentices the basics of her style of fighting, since as it is built around her small and light stature, it is ideal for the diminutive apprentices. Although she is very tough on those apprentices that make it through her classes, those that do earn her respect, and are more likely to survive attacks early in their apprenticeships. Thus, while she avoids kits like greencough, Misthawk does interact a good bit with them once they become apprentices.
Misthawk is supremely logical and will always do what she believes is best for her Clan. Despite her harsh attitude, she would give her life in a heartbeat for any member of MysteryClan. She is careful, circumspect, observant, and quiet, which means that she finds out a lot and reveals very little. She loathes those who she perceives as breaking the Warrior Code, and will show no mercy to anyone who does.
Past:
Misthawk was born as part of a litter of two, to a pair of extremely dedicated and loyal MysteryClan cats. Her mother's name was Greyfoot, and her father was Bitterleaf. Bitterleaf was an earnest, if not especially skilled warrior, who worked hard and always had a kind word for everyone. Greyfoot was a sweet-tempered she-cat and a very young queen, especially considering that Mistkit was part of her second litter. Her first litter contained only one kit, Cloudkit, who was born very small and weak and died after only a couple of moons. Mistkit's sister Fogkit was strong and of good size, much to her parents' relief, but Mistkit was like Cloudkit had been, small and weak. Sadly, her parents resigned themselves to the loss of another kit.
However, Mistkit held on, and after a while became just as active as her larger sister. Greyfoot and Bitterleaf were hugely relieved, and doted on the kits. However, Misthawk always seemed more distant from them despite their babying of her, stemming perhaps from the emotional distance they kept for the first couple moons of her life, when they thought that she would die.
It soon became apparent to Mistkit that no one expected as much of her as they did of Fogkit. Fogkit was a lively, well-liked cat, similar to her parents. The bigger kit was encouraged to play actively, while Mistkit was told to sit quietly and play without overexerting herself. Mistkit hated this from the start, often sneaking away to play by herself. Very soon this play turned into practice for apprenticeship, as Mistkit was eager to become a great warrior and to serve her Clan well. This hard work increased exponentially when Mistkit overheard her parents discussing delaying her apprenticeship, or even canceling it altogether!
Mistkit felt betrayed by her parents, who did not believe in her, and she was determined to outdo her naturally talented sister. Luckily for her, the MysteryClan leader saw this potential in her, and allowed her to be apprenticed at the same time as Fogkit. Mistpaw impressed her mentor, a warrior named Pebblefur, by working longer and harder than the other apprentices, and by spending her free time volunteering for extra hunting or patrol duties, or working on her fighting techniques. Pebblefur helped Mistpaw develop the beginnings of her current fighting style.
However, when Mistpaw was 10 moons old, Pebblefur died of sickness, which also took Mistpaw's mother, Greyfoot. Mistpaw was given a new mentor, Yellowtail, who was vicious-spirited and dishonorable. Mistpaw detested him, and spent the next couple of moons attempting to avoid him while picking up the rest of her warrior training on her own. His cruelty, carelessness and abuse helped to undo the good that Pebblefur's kindness and faith had done for Mistpaw.
Shortly before Mistpaw and Fogpaw reached 12 moons of age, they were on a patrol with Yellowtail, Fogpaw's mentor, and Bitterleaf when their patrol was attacked by rogue cats. Bitterleaf, who was not a talented fighter, was killed almost immediately, his throat ripped out by a huge rogue tom. Fogpaw and her mentor fought together, but Yellowtail ran for his life, leaving Mistpaw to fend for herself. While most of the rogues focused on the seemingly greater threat of a warrior and a large apprentice, and a few raced after the fleeing Yellowtail, one large tom attacked the tiny Mistpaw, who was forced to put the techniques that she and Pebblefur had worked out to the test for the first time.
The rogue tom was large and unwieldy, and he underestimated her strength and speed, allowing Mistpaw to practically run circles around him, clawing and snapping at the soft areas of his throat and stomach. When her opponent ran away bleeding and caterwauling, Mistpaw looked to Fogpaw and her mentor. To her horror, Fogpaw's mentor was trying to fight off two rogues, while a third one had Mistpaw's sister pinned down.
Mistpaw hurtled to her sister's aid, making a massive leap and barreling into the side of the rogue on top of Fogpaw. The tiny apprentice used all her force to knock the rogue off-balance, then went for the throat before the enemy she-cat could react. The rogue fell dead, but Fogpaw was already breathing her last rattling breath, a pool of blood spreading around her. Mistpaw cried out in sorrow, but raced to help Fogpaw's mentor. Together they drove off the remaining rogues, and eventually located Yellowtail's body, where he'd been run down and slaughtered.
Mistpaw was given the warrior name Misthawk just after that battle, for her incredible attack, which Fogpaw's mentor said had resembled that of a diving hawk.
Misthawk worked hard as a warrior, although she never grew close to anycat after the death of her father and sister. She continued to go above and beyond the call of duty in her everyday life, and to serve MysteryClan loyally. She was given one apprentice, a cat named Pondpaw, who is now a warrior named Pondgrass. Although Pondgrass respects Misthawk, he was always too afraid of her to open up, and so they never had a close relationship.
At the age of 36 moons, Misthawk was chosen as deputy, and ever since she has been applying all her skills and time to ensuring that her Clan remains fed, dry, warm, and safe.
Kin:
Mother- Greyfoot, deceased
Father- Bitterleaf, deceased
Sister- Fogpaw, deceased
Brother- Cloudkit, deceased
IC Sample:
It was foggy out today. Foggy days were special… Fog obscured things. It made the familiar unfamiliar, ghostly. It was fitting, Misthawk had always thought, for MysteryClan, the clan of unknowns and secrets. One saw things in the fog, shapes, dreams. It was unsettling, really.
The camp was dead quiet, no one else awake this early in the morning. Misthawk, diminutive deputy of MysteryClan, sat silently at the entrance to the warriors' den, looking out into the swirling mist that clung to the ground and curled up in wisps and airy curves. Her feathery tail of blue-gray, silver-tipped fur was curled neatly around her paws, and she stared out straight with her clear silvery eyes, at nothing at all. It was a moment of peace before she threw herself into work for the day. Even this most devoted of deputies allowed herself that, now and again.
What Misthawk saw in the fog was a memory… A memory of long ago, when Misthawk was still Mistpaw, and when the gray she-cat still had a family.
"Mistpaw, wake up!" It was the familiar loud voice of Fogpaw. "We have morning patrol!" Fogpaw took after their father, mostly white with slate-grey on her head and tail, and she looked filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, not an unusual state for the rambunctious apprentice.
Mistpaw sat up with a start. "What?" she asked, bewildered. "Yellowtail never said anything!"
Fogpaw flicked her tail. "He probably forgot or something," she offered, generously giving the ill-tempered mentor much more credit than he deserved. "But come on, we're going to be late!"
Mistpaw got to her feet quickly, muttering to her sister as she wriggled her way out of the apprentices' den. "Who else is coming?"
"Father's coming, and so is Darkthroat, of course." Fogpaw named her mentor, an affable but capable cat.
Mistpaw looked up as she exited the den and saw them assembled. First there were Darkthroat and Yellowtail, arrayed against one another as if put there just for the contrast. Darkthroat had rich chocolate fur, fading to near-black at his head, tail, and feet, and in personality he was almost ideal, although Mistpaw still thought her old mentor Pebblefur superior. Then there was Yellowtail, a plump, pale-furred cat with a vicious personality and a cruel streak. Still, maybe it was better that Misthawk had ended up with the detestable mentor. Mistpaw was stronger than Fogpaw- the smaller sister knew that, even if no one else did- and where Fogpaw would have broken down under Yellowtail's taunts and his verbal and physical abuse, Mistpaw just took it and kept on going. Life had thrown a lot at Mistpaw- she bounced back, she always did.
Then there was her family. Since their mother Greyfoot had died in the same outbreak of illness that had stolen Pebblefur away, Fogpaw and Bitterleaf, their father, were all the kin that Misthawk had left. They were so much alike, the father and his larger daughter, in looks and personality, that Mistpaw often felt left out anyways. Of course, that was nothing new. One would think she would be used to it by now.
"I apologize for my lateness." Mistpaw dipped her head to the warriors who had been forced to wait while Fogpaw went to wake her up. "It will not happen again."
While the other warriors nodded back in acknowledgement, Yellowtail just snorted and shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently. "Can we get going? It's too cold to be out for long."
"Let us go, then," agreed Darkthroat, and the patrol moved out into MysteryClan territory. Mistpaw brought up the rear, hoping that things would go all right today. Hoping that Yellowtail wouldn't ruin everything. Again.
Sighing, Misthawk shook her head and glanced back over her shoulder, into the den, to see if she could spot any signs of movement, of waking warriors. If they slept for too much longer she would wake them up, but for now the cats of MysteryClan needed their rest. Misthawk would lead the morning patrol herself today, and they would have to be extra thorough due to the bad visibility.
After all, who knew what could be lurking out there in the mist?
Did you read the rules?
*edited out*
