Post by stormphrax on May 27, 2007 17:49:42 GMT -5
Name: SandFire
Pelt: Gingerish, sandy (suprise, suprise) with ripples of red.
Age: A young Warrior. I'm not sure how many moons, it's all a matter of relativity.
Eyes: Her father's, icy blue.
Rank: Deputy
Gender: Female.
Clan: Sunclan.
Mate: None.
Sibling(s): None.
Apprentice: Onionpaw.
Personality: None. - Just kidding! Headstrong in slightly too nice a way to be truly arrogant. Self assured and self confident, almost to a fault. Decent at heart, possibly because she is not yet battle hardened.
History:
The queen licked the soft downy fur of her young kit with a strong rhythmic tenderness, delicately combing each strand of orangey red back into place. Its eyes were still not open, and it nudged its way around the nursery by smell and touch alone. It squeaked as her tongue scraped over the top of its frail head, and snuggled closer to her head. She had already decided on the name, it had been set even before the fur had grown…
The two cats romped playfully through the fields around the camp, the dried golden grass dried and cracking beneath their thundering paws. It was such a hot summer. The ground was packed and baked hard, making it perfect for games and races, and even the older cats were indulging. The white fur of the young warrior tom was stained orange, and his brown feet were browner than ever. The queen was young too, a playful smile splitting her muzzle, and lighting up her grubby face. He stopped, and she almost tripped over him. Then, in a place where the hard earth had been softened and worn down into a fine powder, some would say sand, we shall leave them out of modesty…
And that was why she was to be Sandkit. And why she was to be told everything. Most cats did not know or care too much about the identities of their parents, but this one would know. She loved the father far too much to ever lie, although modesty would prevent her from announcing to the clan off her own bat. And now he was leader. She would teach Sandkit to treat him with more honour and respect than any other cat. She wanted this kit, the union between them both, to be perfect, and to be the clan’s biggest asset. It was quite ironic then, that the father should have no idea of her existence.
Pelt: Gingerish, sandy (suprise, suprise) with ripples of red.
Age: A young Warrior. I'm not sure how many moons, it's all a matter of relativity.
Eyes: Her father's, icy blue.
Rank: Deputy
Gender: Female.
Clan: Sunclan.
Mate: None.
Sibling(s): None.
Apprentice: Onionpaw.
Personality: None. - Just kidding! Headstrong in slightly too nice a way to be truly arrogant. Self assured and self confident, almost to a fault. Decent at heart, possibly because she is not yet battle hardened.
History:
The queen licked the soft downy fur of her young kit with a strong rhythmic tenderness, delicately combing each strand of orangey red back into place. Its eyes were still not open, and it nudged its way around the nursery by smell and touch alone. It squeaked as her tongue scraped over the top of its frail head, and snuggled closer to her head. She had already decided on the name, it had been set even before the fur had grown…
The two cats romped playfully through the fields around the camp, the dried golden grass dried and cracking beneath their thundering paws. It was such a hot summer. The ground was packed and baked hard, making it perfect for games and races, and even the older cats were indulging. The white fur of the young warrior tom was stained orange, and his brown feet were browner than ever. The queen was young too, a playful smile splitting her muzzle, and lighting up her grubby face. He stopped, and she almost tripped over him. Then, in a place where the hard earth had been softened and worn down into a fine powder, some would say sand, we shall leave them out of modesty…
And that was why she was to be Sandkit. And why she was to be told everything. Most cats did not know or care too much about the identities of their parents, but this one would know. She loved the father far too much to ever lie, although modesty would prevent her from announcing to the clan off her own bat. And now he was leader. She would teach Sandkit to treat him with more honour and respect than any other cat. She wanted this kit, the union between them both, to be perfect, and to be the clan’s biggest asset. It was quite ironic then, that the father should have no idea of her existence.