Post by Akura on Feb 4, 2021 23:46:48 GMT -6
Bristlefur
Lichenclan
Silver shaded tom with messy fur and yellow eyes.
warrior
male
66 moons
Appearance
At first glance all a cat may see is wild fur and glaring eyes...and to be fair, there is a lot of that. But beneath his lightly shaded fur, is a surprisingly short and skinny thing. He's worked it up to be rather muscular due in no small part to the huge amount of battles he's been in. His paws are rather large; all the better to claw his enemies with. Countless scars litter his frame, but most are impossible for them to notice. If they did, then they would be much more wary of who they were facing. Some are simply from predators or enemy cats along the border, but others are from his very clanmates. Minnowstar herself has even given him one, in the form of a bitemark on his left shoulder. Consequences of becoming deputy, it seems.
A warm grey covers the entirety of his pelt, with hints of a darker mottling along his back. To contrast said darker fur, the warrior's underside and almost his entire tail is a near picturesque white. The tabby markings that ghost his features are most present on his face, where a prominent stripe runs down his forehead and snakes close to his eyes.
It's hard to tell when Bristlefur is frowning most of the time, but it's better to just assume that he is and move along. So short is his muzzle that it looks to give him a near permanent scowl. Bristlefur's eyes don't exactly help either, as they seem to naturally fall half-shut, leaving only two yellow slits that curse the world around him. Thin, jagged claw-marks etch the left side of his face, courtesy of Stagstar-who was, at the time, a furious, grieving Stagflight. It narrowly missed the eye, and for that at least, Bristlefur is grateful. Fur flares around the hints of where his ears should be higher up. The left one is nicked from a simple dispute with Sagefrost during his time as deputy. Long whiskers curl out in as much a disarray as his pelt seems to, leading to an all-around wild, disheveled appearance.
A warm grey covers the entirety of his pelt, with hints of a darker mottling along his back. To contrast said darker fur, the warrior's underside and almost his entire tail is a near picturesque white. The tabby markings that ghost his features are most present on his face, where a prominent stripe runs down his forehead and snakes close to his eyes.
It's hard to tell when Bristlefur is frowning most of the time, but it's better to just assume that he is and move along. So short is his muzzle that it looks to give him a near permanent scowl. Bristlefur's eyes don't exactly help either, as they seem to naturally fall half-shut, leaving only two yellow slits that curse the world around him. Thin, jagged claw-marks etch the left side of his face, courtesy of Stagstar-who was, at the time, a furious, grieving Stagflight. It narrowly missed the eye, and for that at least, Bristlefur is grateful. Fur flares around the hints of where his ears should be higher up. The left one is nicked from a simple dispute with Sagefrost during his time as deputy. Long whiskers curl out in as much a disarray as his pelt seems to, leading to an all-around wild, disheveled appearance.
Personality
Traits
+ | Responsible | Confident | Protective
- | Grouchy | Pessimistic | Loud
~ | Stubborn | Tough | Unsentimental
~ | Stubborn | Tough | Unsentimental
To many, Bristlefur does not seem like a nice cat in the slightest. His complaints can be heard even from afar, now that he no longer has to hide what he's displeased about-at least, not as much as he used to. grouchy and stubborn at almost any time of day. that always wants his way. He doesn't care what others think of him and is completely unsentimental. Starclan is just a bunch of dots in the sky for all he cares. confident, which only fuels his negative traits, No matter what consequences he might face, Bristlefur takes responsibility for his actions. To hide away from something you've done is a cowardly move in his book.
He only cares for a select few and is all around a tough, pessimistic cat. Confidence is something exudes naturally. It backs him up in everything he does wholeheartedly. But sometimes this confidence turns into stubbornness. Bristlefur never takes back what he says, because he never regrets it. Even the leader of Lichenclan would be hard pressed to find him apologetic in the slightest. He knows this could land him in serious trouble one day, even to the point of being exiled or worse, but he honestly couldn't care less. He does what he wants, when he wants it, and very little will stop him. Fear is not something that enters his mind often.
Likes:
-Any sort of fighting.
- Proving he's right.
- Spending time by himself.
-
- Proving he's right.
- Spending time by himself.
Dislikes:
- The shy and meek.
- The cultishly devout.
- Those who avoid the consequences of their actions.
- staying in the medicine den for any amount of time.
Fears:
- Being seen as weak.
- having to hide his beliefs, or lack thereof, forever.
- Lichenclan falling back into their old mindset and obsessing over the stars to the point of detriment.
- Being seen as weak.
- having to hide his beliefs, or lack thereof, forever.
- Lichenclan falling back into their old mindset and obsessing over the stars to the point of detriment.
Goals:
-To do what he wants and fight for as long as possible.
I will never say no to a fight; however...it does not bring me the same joy it used to, for it only brings me back to times of stress and frustration.
-Perhaps expose their 'flawed system' one day.
That will never happen; time and again, it has been proven that their beliefs will not be swayed in the slightest.
- To live in relative peace, no longer having to handle that tyrannical leader's stupid decisions.
- Maybe attempt to reconnect with that family he abandoned without a word...
-
-
- To live in relative peace, no longer having to handle that tyrannical leader's stupid decisions.
- Maybe attempt to reconnect with that family he abandoned without a word...
History
Family
Foster Family:
Vinetail (mother, npc), Braveleap (father, deceased)
Adderfang (brother, adopt)
Blood Family:
Pearlshine (mother, deceased), Timbertail (father, deceased)
Tangletooth (brother, adopt), Pearlfeather (sister, (maxx)), Shineheart (sister, adopt), Palethroat(brother, adopt) and Blizzardtail(brother, adopt).
Flurrystorm (niece, deceased (owl)), Driftfeather (nephew (aria))
- Kithood: Five too Many
Paleshine was a kind thing supposedly, but Bristlekit never met her. None of them did. Not Tanglekit, or Palekit, or Shinekit or...well, you get the picture. A newly widowed father has no way to care for his newly born kittens, and thus, they were beset upon a foster family. Two young parents who had wanted nothing more than to coddle their only son, but were now inflicted with five extra mouths to feed...Starclan truly loved them.
--
In a family as large as his, Bristlekit had to fight for every bit of attention he could get. He didn't care if that involved soothing words or scathing remarks, just so long as it was something.
Violent outbursts quickly became a norm in their much-too-small nest. But every time he yowled out, someone looked at him. If he went on long enough, they might even hiss out his name. If he got into a fight then they would speak to him at length. Moments like that were what he lived for. Any ounce of a positive relationship between little Bristlekit and his foster parents was quickly squandered by these acts, but he never stopped.
- Apprenticeship: A Match Starts to Burn
No cat had been shoved out the nursery as fast as Bristlepaw had been. Both queens and kits agreed that he was far too loud and troublesome to bother with, so they welcomed the turn of his sixth moon with relief. Cats looked at his new mentor with sympathy...everyone knew how rough the warrior was going to have it.
As he got older, Bristlepaw began to develop his own opinions on things...opinions that none dare to say. Palepaw was one of the few he'd grown close to, but when he confided with her on his growing beliefs, she begged him to stay quiet. Even with only a handful of moons behind her, she knew how much of a social death-sentence it would be to say the things her brother wanted to. Reluctantly, Bristlepaw agreed to hold his tongue. It frustrated him to no end that he had to play along with their oh-so perfect laws and practices, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Starclan this, Starclan that...it was all impossible to ignore.
As time went on, his already unbearable nature grew to be so volatile he snapped at nearly every cat he saw. No one understood why he was like this, but few cared in the first place. The only thing that seemed to quell his biting remarks - or at least make them more tolerable - was after they were aimed at something he could tear apart. The apprentice jumped at any chance to fight against the other clans or a predator, but those were few and far between. Eventually he had to settle for simple 'sparring matches' with his clanmates, where perhaps he forgot to sheathe his claws for a moment, or maybe pulled just a little too hard on their tail...all an accident, of course.
- Warriorship: A Challenge Seemingly Forfeit
He mumbled some spiteful words at the Moonpool under the guise of repentance. A challenge. So long had he waited to get their revered ancestors' attention, and this was the closest Bristlepaw would get. He glared up at their tiny forms, smaller than bugs in his eyes. But even after insult upon insult, poor Starclan seemed unable to retaliate with anything more than a gust of wind and shivering fur. A mewling kit could have done more than they, that night. So the stars really were powerless...
Bristlefur was named in the morning with no interjection. Any right-minded Lichenclan cat would have stopped him by now, but none of them knew the truth - at least from what he could tell. For a moment he thought of letting them know; that their prayers were meaningless prattle, their prophecies nothing more than a lucid dream...their ceremonies and sacrifices? useless. Alas, no cat would accept that, so he would leave them to follow blindly.
And that is how he continues to leave them, worshipping some dots in the sky that he begrudgingly pretends to follow. The longer he goes acting the way he does, the more his barriers run thin. Bristlefur may have no other choice than to reveal his true feelings soon, else he live the rest of his life hiding behind a mask of piety.
Deputyship:
sss
Post-exile: A Bitter Reconciling
aaa
Foster Family:
Vinetail (mother, npc), Braveleap (father, deceased)
Adderfang (brother, adopt)
Blood Family:
Pearlshine (mother, deceased), Timbertail (father, deceased)
Tangletooth (brother, adopt), Pearlfeather (sister, (maxx)), Shineheart (sister, adopt), Palethroat(brother, adopt) and Blizzardtail(brother, adopt).
Flurrystorm (niece, deceased (owl)), Driftfeather (nephew (aria))
- Kithood: Five too Many
Paleshine was a kind thing supposedly, but Bristlekit never met her. None of them did. Not Tanglekit, or Palekit, or Shinekit or...well, you get the picture. A newly widowed father has no way to care for his newly born kittens, and thus, they were beset upon a foster family. Two young parents who had wanted nothing more than to coddle their only son, but were now inflicted with five extra mouths to feed...Starclan truly loved them.
--
In a family as large as his, Bristlekit had to fight for every bit of attention he could get. He didn't care if that involved soothing words or scathing remarks, just so long as it was something.
Violent outbursts quickly became a norm in their much-too-small nest. But every time he yowled out, someone looked at him. If he went on long enough, they might even hiss out his name. If he got into a fight then they would speak to him at length. Moments like that were what he lived for. Any ounce of a positive relationship between little Bristlekit and his foster parents was quickly squandered by these acts, but he never stopped.
- Apprenticeship: A Match Starts to Burn
No cat had been shoved out the nursery as fast as Bristlepaw had been. Both queens and kits agreed that he was far too loud and troublesome to bother with, so they welcomed the turn of his sixth moon with relief. Cats looked at his new mentor with sympathy...everyone knew how rough the warrior was going to have it.
As he got older, Bristlepaw began to develop his own opinions on things...opinions that none dare to say. Palepaw was one of the few he'd grown close to, but when he confided with her on his growing beliefs, she begged him to stay quiet. Even with only a handful of moons behind her, she knew how much of a social death-sentence it would be to say the things her brother wanted to. Reluctantly, Bristlepaw agreed to hold his tongue. It frustrated him to no end that he had to play along with their oh-so perfect laws and practices, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Starclan this, Starclan that...it was all impossible to ignore.
As time went on, his already unbearable nature grew to be so volatile he snapped at nearly every cat he saw. No one understood why he was like this, but few cared in the first place. The only thing that seemed to quell his biting remarks - or at least make them more tolerable - was after they were aimed at something he could tear apart. The apprentice jumped at any chance to fight against the other clans or a predator, but those were few and far between. Eventually he had to settle for simple 'sparring matches' with his clanmates, where perhaps he forgot to sheathe his claws for a moment, or maybe pulled just a little too hard on their tail...all an accident, of course.
- Warriorship: A Challenge Seemingly Forfeit
He mumbled some spiteful words at the Moonpool under the guise of repentance. A challenge. So long had he waited to get their revered ancestors' attention, and this was the closest Bristlepaw would get. He glared up at their tiny forms, smaller than bugs in his eyes. But even after insult upon insult, poor Starclan seemed unable to retaliate with anything more than a gust of wind and shivering fur. A mewling kit could have done more than they, that night. So the stars really were powerless...
Bristlefur was named in the morning with no interjection. Any right-minded Lichenclan cat would have stopped him by now, but none of them knew the truth - at least from what he could tell. For a moment he thought of letting them know; that their prayers were meaningless prattle, their prophecies nothing more than a lucid dream...their ceremonies and sacrifices? useless. Alas, no cat would accept that, so he would leave them to follow blindly.
And that is how he continues to leave them, worshipping some dots in the sky that he begrudgingly pretends to follow. The longer he goes acting the way he does, the more his barriers run thin. Bristlefur may have no other choice than to reveal his true feelings soon, else he live the rest of his life hiding behind a mask of piety.
Deputyship:
sss
Post-exile: A Bitter Reconciling
aaa
