Post by Silentheart on Feb 19, 2011 9:03:15 GMT -6
My name is Breezechaser
My gender is Tom
My alliance is with WindClan
My age is 24 moons
I know you want to see me; So click here
And now for a mental image you can hold dear; Breezechaser is a WindClan cat through- and through, his build assuring everyone of that. He is a long legged, lithe tom, and one of the tallest cats in the clan, standing high on tall, thin legs like little stilts. They make him one of the fastest cats as well, using them to propel him over the moor in pursuit of rabbits and enemies alike. He his a sandy gray and tan tom with extremely faint tabby markings along his back, the only real stripes showing being the black bands that wrap along his tail and down his notable legs.
His eyes seem constantly glowing, their colour so highly unusual, such a bright yellow with just hints of orange below his slit-like pupils, like burning embers within his sandy face- but they aren't the only thing marring his colour. Across his body lie scars, lots of them, all throughout his face and down his sides, the bright pink marks showing through his fur, signs of his countless battles, even for such a young cat.
Now you've seen me and keep it in, but know me now for who I am; Breezechaser has experienced great loss in his life, and somewhere deep inside, where no one ever sees, lies coldness, hatred, and a dark hybrid of every blackened emotion, bundled up and bursting at the seams, or so it would seem, but he does more than a fair job of keeping them tucked away, aside from maybe a fight with ThunderClan.
On the outside, what everyone sees, however, is a loyal cat. A loyal, hard-headed, cocky cat. With all of his scars, Breezechaser seems pretty certain that hes unbeatable, although he knows his limits well, he also seems to believe at times that he is StarClan's gift to WindClan, thinking to be a prophecy cat, just waiting for a prophecy. He also seems to think that, despite his scars, he is the most beautiful, handsome, gorgeous cat alive and that every she-cat swoons for him- but few ever find out the truth, the anger he hides, the sorrow and grief, few ever learn that this stuck-up cat is really just using this ploy to cover up his darker side, sometimes it makes you wonder if hes simply forgotten that his personality is forced. He may have forgotten.
And with it, unravel my past;Breezechaser was born Breezekit to beaming WindClan parents- and instantly the camp was thrown into chaos. He was the wild-child of the clan, constantly slipping away from his absentminded mother, skirting from the warriors, and taking off out of camp, and exploring. It was annoying, but never really an issue, they'd drag him back into camp, plop him down, and giving him a mighty tongue-lashing for his insane ways. He'd always appease them with a sweet, innocent, honey like apology, they'd give up and hand him over to his parents, and within a few days, he was out again. Rinse and repeat.
Once he was about four moons old, he wandered far from camp, over the ThunderClan line, and was attacked by a ThunderClan apprentice- a fairly new one, but the only fighting Breezekit knew was what he had watched WindClan apprentices using- and he used them, his long, gangly legs giving him a burst of speed that he used to shock the apprentice into at least no longer harming him. The fight over, the ThunderClan cat began threatening him to leave- and Breezekit was more than happy to comply, until a ThunderClan warrior approached, eyes like sheer venom, and without warning, whacked him, hard. Stunned on the ground, bleeding from wounds that would be his first scars, he was certain he would die- that the ThunderClan cats would kill him, if not for his mother. She was like a bat out of hell, attacking the Warrior with a fierceness that only a mother could have. He couldn't watch the battle, and could only comply when his mother told him to run, staggering to his feet and carrying himself as fast as he could back to the Clan, his eyes wide and his body shaking as he told his leader what had happened. A patrol took off to help, but it was too late. His mother would never come back from that fight.
Distraught and brokenhearted, he didn't leave camp again, although inside, a deep, burning hatred for ThunderClan formed, so when he was given an apprentice name, Breezepaw, he didn't hesitate training- and he trained hard, for as long as his mentor allowed, earning more scars along the way. His experience as a kit seemed to have sobered him, within time, he relaxed back into a mischievous apprentice- but even that didn't last when he was thrown into his first battle, against ThunderClan. He fought as bravely as his mother had, with every intention of avenging her death, even after so many moons. He had done well that day, and was praised for it, earning his Warrior name at the age of twelve moons, Breezechaser, in honor of his great speed, and so again, there was a personality change. From wild kit, to cold apprentice, to dertermined, kind apprentice, into what he is now. Happy-go-lucky, full of himself, Breezechaser, who still burns with hidden hatred.
My gender is Tom
My alliance is with WindClan
My age is 24 moons
I know you want to see me; So click here
And now for a mental image you can hold dear; Breezechaser is a WindClan cat through- and through, his build assuring everyone of that. He is a long legged, lithe tom, and one of the tallest cats in the clan, standing high on tall, thin legs like little stilts. They make him one of the fastest cats as well, using them to propel him over the moor in pursuit of rabbits and enemies alike. He his a sandy gray and tan tom with extremely faint tabby markings along his back, the only real stripes showing being the black bands that wrap along his tail and down his notable legs.
His eyes seem constantly glowing, their colour so highly unusual, such a bright yellow with just hints of orange below his slit-like pupils, like burning embers within his sandy face- but they aren't the only thing marring his colour. Across his body lie scars, lots of them, all throughout his face and down his sides, the bright pink marks showing through his fur, signs of his countless battles, even for such a young cat.
Now you've seen me and keep it in, but know me now for who I am; Breezechaser has experienced great loss in his life, and somewhere deep inside, where no one ever sees, lies coldness, hatred, and a dark hybrid of every blackened emotion, bundled up and bursting at the seams, or so it would seem, but he does more than a fair job of keeping them tucked away, aside from maybe a fight with ThunderClan.
On the outside, what everyone sees, however, is a loyal cat. A loyal, hard-headed, cocky cat. With all of his scars, Breezechaser seems pretty certain that hes unbeatable, although he knows his limits well, he also seems to believe at times that he is StarClan's gift to WindClan, thinking to be a prophecy cat, just waiting for a prophecy. He also seems to think that, despite his scars, he is the most beautiful, handsome, gorgeous cat alive and that every she-cat swoons for him- but few ever find out the truth, the anger he hides, the sorrow and grief, few ever learn that this stuck-up cat is really just using this ploy to cover up his darker side, sometimes it makes you wonder if hes simply forgotten that his personality is forced. He may have forgotten.
And with it, unravel my past;Breezechaser was born Breezekit to beaming WindClan parents- and instantly the camp was thrown into chaos. He was the wild-child of the clan, constantly slipping away from his absentminded mother, skirting from the warriors, and taking off out of camp, and exploring. It was annoying, but never really an issue, they'd drag him back into camp, plop him down, and giving him a mighty tongue-lashing for his insane ways. He'd always appease them with a sweet, innocent, honey like apology, they'd give up and hand him over to his parents, and within a few days, he was out again. Rinse and repeat.
Once he was about four moons old, he wandered far from camp, over the ThunderClan line, and was attacked by a ThunderClan apprentice- a fairly new one, but the only fighting Breezekit knew was what he had watched WindClan apprentices using- and he used them, his long, gangly legs giving him a burst of speed that he used to shock the apprentice into at least no longer harming him. The fight over, the ThunderClan cat began threatening him to leave- and Breezekit was more than happy to comply, until a ThunderClan warrior approached, eyes like sheer venom, and without warning, whacked him, hard. Stunned on the ground, bleeding from wounds that would be his first scars, he was certain he would die- that the ThunderClan cats would kill him, if not for his mother. She was like a bat out of hell, attacking the Warrior with a fierceness that only a mother could have. He couldn't watch the battle, and could only comply when his mother told him to run, staggering to his feet and carrying himself as fast as he could back to the Clan, his eyes wide and his body shaking as he told his leader what had happened. A patrol took off to help, but it was too late. His mother would never come back from that fight.
Distraught and brokenhearted, he didn't leave camp again, although inside, a deep, burning hatred for ThunderClan formed, so when he was given an apprentice name, Breezepaw, he didn't hesitate training- and he trained hard, for as long as his mentor allowed, earning more scars along the way. His experience as a kit seemed to have sobered him, within time, he relaxed back into a mischievous apprentice- but even that didn't last when he was thrown into his first battle, against ThunderClan. He fought as bravely as his mother had, with every intention of avenging her death, even after so many moons. He had done well that day, and was praised for it, earning his Warrior name at the age of twelve moons, Breezechaser, in honor of his great speed, and so again, there was a personality change. From wild kit, to cold apprentice, to dertermined, kind apprentice, into what he is now. Happy-go-lucky, full of himself, Breezechaser, who still burns with hidden hatred.
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