Post by ironic on Dec 27, 2010 1:21:52 GMT -5
COLDSTAR
this is what i brought you/this you can keep/this is what i brought/you may forget me/i promise to depart/just promise one thing/kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
COLDSTAR && SHE-CAT && THIRTY-SIX MOONS && LEADER
name explanation
Everyone has a name, or all civilized cats have one at least. I wouldn't dare associate myself with a nameless feline. Who in their right mind would do that after all? The sickness in a nameless' mind may rub off on you after all, and on someone of my status, that wouldn't be good, no, not at all. I need to be sane for such a thing. I need to be able-minded along with able-bodied....
I'm rambling aren't I? Well, sorry dear. It wasn't truly purposeful. It was my name you were asking about, right? Yes...yes it was, of course. Coldstar. It's choppy and cruel. it doesn't flow off the tongue like it should. Its probably not something you'd expect from a feline of Hailclan, a clan of grace and beauty.
Well, to answer your question, I think we should start at the beginning. Coldkit. No, let's not even go that far. Let's start at Cold. The prefix comes down to meaning chilly in the literal term, or socially cruel in the more artist and metaphoric term. How did a cat like me get caught with a prefix like that? Well I'm not exactly sure. According to my mother, I was born on the coldest day of the year into a litter of three. Two she-cats and a tom. One of those little she-cats died, and the little tom died on the first night. The chill got to them.
Me? I grew sickly and barely survived. Most doubted I would live to my apprentice ceremony, and if I did, though almost were certain I'd become a warrior. I was weak; so weak that my apprentice ceremony had to be held back. I was underweight, sickly, and always so cold.
Let's fast forward a little bit, to my warrior ceremony. I was given the suffix flare that day, making my full name Coldflare. Rather contradictory, isn't it? I'm pretty sure I'll never come across a cold flare in the entire span of my existence, still, it's what my leader dubbed me.
In truth, I find it rather ironic. The cold, sickly little kitten growing to be a full-grown warrior entirely devoted to serving her clan, and Memoryclan without a thought; the Warrior Code being her religion and the only thing in her thought process. The little ginger feline grew to be a fire within the camp, ready to heat at will and burn any and all opposition to her beliefs.
Possibly it was because I outgrew my sickness, or it cold be for my bright ginger fur. The feline who gave me the name is dead, seeing as I'm leader now, so I'm not entirely sure myself.
At the time I was just happy to have a warrior's name...Why would a question something so beautiful?
age
I am thirty-six moons, which can be easily translated into three years.
clan
I am a proud and loyal member of Hailclan.
rank
Within my clan, I have been given the honor of being leader.
gender
I, of course, am a she-cat.
appearance
Nosy little creature today, aren't you? Well, yes, it would seem so, since you seem to refuse to even open your eyes and see me.
I can't be that hard to see against all of the snow and ice, can I? I'm thin, but not that thin after all. Petite maybe, but not a stick, and I'm bright ginger. I'm easily seen against all of the white which covers the ground. It makes hunting terribly hard, but I can't help that, now can I? Sure, if I were white, I'd be a lot harder to spot, but being able to hunt, being the color I am must show skill, doesn't it? I think so, and I'm pretty sure that's all that matters.
I'm not exactly vain enough to always look at distorted images of myself in puddles or icy spots, but I guess I can describe myself for you. I'll tell you what I know:
As stated before, I'm ginger, and it's common knowledge that all ginger felines are tabbies, so add that to your image of me. My eyes are a pleasant amber color, from what I've heard, though from fishing, I find them to be a nasty dirty-yellow color. What you want to call the color is up to you.
Before, I also said that I was thin and petite. I'm also a mouse tail or so shorter then the normal cat, though that doesn't make me any less powerful. I can pack a punch when needed, and I've proved it a fair share of times for the sacrifices.
That good enough for you? I hope so...No, actually, I hope that you'll open your eyes one day and see me for yourself, because my words can't substitute a concrete image in your mind.
summary
I am an orange tabby she-cat with amber eyes.
personality
Personality...Personality...Where should I begin...? There's no true 'beginning' to the thought process behind everyone's thoughts and actions after all. There's no format; not a single calculation you can use to determine someone's next move...So where should I start?
I'll start with unpredictable...Or so I've heard. I guess I can be prone to outbursts and sometimes I do things that not everyone agrees with. I don't do these things for my own benefit, but for that of the clan...Whether they see it or not. I'm loyal to the end, and only to my clan. My entire life revolves around Hailclan's well being, and I'll do anything to keep them strong. Anything.
I guess I could also say I can be a bit cold at times. Not toward my clan of course, but towards other leaders, and other clans. They don't deserve mine or any sympathy or my time. If you're not from Hailclan, why should I care for you? Of course I'll protect the kits of any clan, but that's only because they're unable to do it themselves. Older clan cats won't be getting anything from me...And outsiders? Don't even suggest the possibility. They don't belong on my land. The filthy traitors chose their own fate by not joining the clans, or staying with them if they were born to them. They don't deserve Memoryclan or any clan's mercy.
Some could say I'm violent, of course, it just depends on how you look at things. To me, I do what needs to be done and nothing more. To outsiders, I may look like a bloodthirsty tyrant sniffing out my next kill. I work to purify the clans' territories. Traitors, rogues, and loners shouldn't even consider coming towards me. They're filthy, and I wouldn't even want to consider associating myself with one.
I can be stubborn I will admit, and I will never admit defeat. I am strong to the end and will always stand up for what I believe in. What do I believe in? The answer's simple. Hailclan.
I think I'm forgiving in truth, after all I'll forgive the rogues and loners who choose to join my clan. Sure, I'll keep an eye on them and make sure that they really wish to be loyal to my clan, but I still let them in. If they can prove their loyalty, they're fine with me. They keep the gene pool open I guess. And kittypets? If they can survive out here, in a clan of course, they deserve whatever rank they're in. If you're a kittypet, it's not your fault if you were birthed into the den of a twoleg. you were just strong enough to get out, so congrats and I wish you luck on your journey to the top.
history .
I was born. I became an apprentice. I then became a warrior. I was promoted to deputy. The leader died, and I filled his position.
I'm guessing that's not what you were looking for, was it? That's rather upsetting. Fine, I guess for you I'll give some of it away.
My kithood was probably the least interesting part of my life. I was born, my siblings died, my mother was depressed, and father dearest was never around. I think he was disgusted at my mother's lack of ability to produce a healthy litter. I never cared much for him anyway. The rogue was taken for a sacrifice at one point I think. I always try to avoid the subject of being related to him, after all, having rogue blood in me is rather upsetting and disgusting. It's something I'd rather never speak of in truth.
I told you before that I was rather ill through most of my kithood, and I barely remember it. By my seven-and-a-half moon mark I was considered fat and healthy enough to become an apprentice, so I did.
As Coldpaw, I was the underdog. Who expected a sickly little kit to survive the tundra that I lived in? Definitely not mother dearest. She mourned my death, along with the death of my siblings. I think she was delusional. I was crushed by her death towards the end of my first year, but I've gotten over it by now. She was old. I was in her last litter. She froze to death in the elder's den. She died of natural causes I guess. Nothing terribly tragic. It would have been worse had it been something overly dramatic, but it wasn't...I'm getting ahead of myself now, aren't I? Sorry for jumping around.
At fourteen moons old, I was dubbed Coldflare, and rather proud of it. I worked harder then ever to improve my hunting skill, to be a top provider for the clan, to prove that I wasn't just a mistake, and I think I caught the leader's eye eventually, because when I was two-and-a-half years old, or thirty moons, I was given the rank of deputy. Five moons later, my leader bit the dust, and I took over.
I was no longer just a walking disease any more, now was I?
I've been leader for a moon now, and working to the best of my ability to keep the clan in order, and I know I'm young, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable. It means I have more to learn, and more time to learn it then most cats.
other
My first charrie. I hope she's suitable leader material.
If anyone thinks that she's too young, I'll gladly change her age to something more appropriate...I think I'm going to go to bed now. it's 1:19 am here.
If my bio completely sucks, it's because I'm tired, and I'm REALLY sorry about it then. Please respond soon; thank you in advance. <3
