Post by ♈︎ SHEEPISH on Sept 26, 2019 5:58:13 GMT -6
PALESMOKE
LICHENCLAN
a lithe, narrow she-cat with brilliant blue eyes and ivory-colored fur
warrior
she-cat
twenty-one moons
Appearance
fragile - like a baby bird fresh out of its nest. soft - as soft as a new kit's down-fur. agile - like a falcon's wings in flight.
simple words, simple terms, too simple to describe a cat like palesmoke. and yet… they work; eerily well, even. she blinks at you, her crystalline eyes so young and innocent as if never experiencing life's tragedies. she is beautiful, graceful, and thin, her limbs like stalks of oat, her body streamline and tail a light plume of pampas grass. she never smiles, face resting in an evermore neutral-yet-hopeful grimace. to you, she is gorgeous, and many toms pursue her affections endlessly. you know, however, it is a bottomless hole leading nowhere. nobody gets close, nobody penetrates despite how innocent and kind palesmoke appears.
down to her long body, tall legs and dusty fur, palesmoke is the epitome of dainty. light bones carry her frame and as a young kit her mother planned out her life in the nursery, graduating to queen and never warrior due to her brittle exterior. make no mistake, however - although palesmoke appears frail and weak, she is anything but. long, sharp claws protrude from soft pink paw pads, and her tail is like a weapon of its own; long, strong, and enough to knock down an enemy.
sapphire hues stare so deeply that nobody directly looks palesmoke in the eye. she carries an air of innocence, her colored gaze so expressive she fails hiding her emotions from any cat, and so palesmoke coats every word she speaks with soft mildness. a patch of dove grey spreads out amongst her stone-colored nose, spreading along each leg and over her fluffy tail. long whiskers protrude from her cheeks and eyebrows, adding only to her colorful and blindingly obvious emotional palate.
simple words, simple terms, too simple to describe a cat like palesmoke. and yet… they work; eerily well, even. she blinks at you, her crystalline eyes so young and innocent as if never experiencing life's tragedies. she is beautiful, graceful, and thin, her limbs like stalks of oat, her body streamline and tail a light plume of pampas grass. she never smiles, face resting in an evermore neutral-yet-hopeful grimace. to you, she is gorgeous, and many toms pursue her affections endlessly. you know, however, it is a bottomless hole leading nowhere. nobody gets close, nobody penetrates despite how innocent and kind palesmoke appears.
down to her long body, tall legs and dusty fur, palesmoke is the epitome of dainty. light bones carry her frame and as a young kit her mother planned out her life in the nursery, graduating to queen and never warrior due to her brittle exterior. make no mistake, however - although palesmoke appears frail and weak, she is anything but. long, sharp claws protrude from soft pink paw pads, and her tail is like a weapon of its own; long, strong, and enough to knock down an enemy.
sapphire hues stare so deeply that nobody directly looks palesmoke in the eye. she carries an air of innocence, her colored gaze so expressive she fails hiding her emotions from any cat, and so palesmoke coats every word she speaks with soft mildness. a patch of dove grey spreads out amongst her stone-colored nose, spreading along each leg and over her fluffy tail. long whiskers protrude from her cheeks and eyebrows, adding only to her colorful and blindingly obvious emotional palate.
Personality
withdrawn and quiet, palesmoke lacks the fortitude to make herself known to all. she is quite beautiful and her mother taught her proper poise and etiquette. you see, mistfur had lived in the queens den her entire life, barely entertaining a stint as a warrior. too cowardly, too shy, too afraid of pain and suffering. rare as it may be, her apprenticeship focused mostly on domestic duties, and while she completed all the requirements, her ascendence to warrior seemed swept under the rug and she silently moved to the queen's den. therefore, palesmoke learned from a she-cat destined to bear kits for the rest of her life, resulting in an overly polite, formal and traditional upbringing.
initially, palesmoke appears weak and talentless. she hangs at the back of patrols, rarely engages with other cats, and physically appears unable to become a successful warrior. the clan doesn't understand her and she has few friends. palesmoke keeps her heart to herself, locked up tight and wears only a blank, grim expression most days. she prefers solitude, often rejecting the company of other cats with preferences to go alone. toms, especially, fill her with dread.
on the battlefield palesmoke is fierce, but cunning. wars are fought in and out of formation, and she's been known to snap wisely at another cat for not minding their own. she speaks literally but not plainly, her words articulate and filled with metaphorical imagery. if she feels overwhelmed she often stays silent and mentally fades away, which many misinterpret as disrespect and arrogance.
despite these traits, palesmoke is incredibly loyal to her clan and has a deep desire to remain religious and faithful towards startclan. when her birthing tragedy brought her to her knees, she thought starclan did not approve of her babies and killed them single-pawed, but over the years her hatred for her warrior ancestors numbed. she found faith again upon remembering them and throwing herself fully into clan life and the lifestyle of a warrior.
initially, palesmoke appears weak and talentless. she hangs at the back of patrols, rarely engages with other cats, and physically appears unable to become a successful warrior. the clan doesn't understand her and she has few friends. palesmoke keeps her heart to herself, locked up tight and wears only a blank, grim expression most days. she prefers solitude, often rejecting the company of other cats with preferences to go alone. toms, especially, fill her with dread.
on the battlefield palesmoke is fierce, but cunning. wars are fought in and out of formation, and she's been known to snap wisely at another cat for not minding their own. she speaks literally but not plainly, her words articulate and filled with metaphorical imagery. if she feels overwhelmed she often stays silent and mentally fades away, which many misinterpret as disrespect and arrogance.
despite these traits, palesmoke is incredibly loyal to her clan and has a deep desire to remain religious and faithful towards startclan. when her birthing tragedy brought her to her knees, she thought starclan did not approve of her babies and killed them single-pawed, but over the years her hatred for her warrior ancestors numbed. she found faith again upon remembering them and throwing herself fully into clan life and the lifestyle of a warrior.
History
raised by a queen who rejected warrior life, palekit entered the world through the eyes of an injured she-cat. suspicious and highly critical of she-cats becoming warriors, mistfur stifled her daughter's opportunities to grow while her brothers, woolkit and fangkit slipped easily into the traditional shoes of tomcats. one deeply embodied the personality of big, strong male while the other enjoyed only the fruits of male privilege in the clan. palekit begged to play with her brothers but mistfur refused, setting down the expectations as early as one week old: playing was for toms, grooming and looking beautiful were important she-cat duties.
as she became an apprentice palepaw felt ill equipped having learned limited skills as a young one. her dainty appearance seemed ineffective in battle and even her mentor, convinced by palepaw's mother, took it easy on her those long six moons. she wanted to be like the others, not understanding why the other she-cat apprentices struggled little and palepaw seemed unable to execute a hunt correctly? eventually, even her mentor seemed disinterested in working with her progress.
so palepaw took it upon herself and snuck out to the coves in the middle of the night, catching sand crabs and fighting shadow warriors with teeth and claws of wind and air. when the time came for her assessment, she shocked her pupils and the mentors into scoring high for the limited training she had. her enthusiasm and determination brought her great respect, but the clan still assumed she'd retreat to the queen's den once knighted.
it was a chilly leafbare, unusually cold for that time of year. with food scare mistfur fell ill and soon died. although she loved her mother, palesmoke also saw her nearsightedness and lacked respect for her belief in a safe, risk-less life. the clan buried her under the tree she enjoyed sunbathing against.
palesmoke tried to busy herself with hunting, believing the fresh air might remove, or at least dull, the unexpected pain in her heart. that's when her entire life changed. in the dimmest part of the woods, as she hunkered down in pursuit of a squirrel, an attacker burst out of the bushes seemingly from nowhere and pounced. he was too big, and palesmoke's body just didn't bear the strength to push him off. he left her bleeding, covered in scratches with her virtues ripped clean from her soul.
returning to the camp burned worse than fire. she hid the pregnancy well, fur covering her engorging stomach until all she could do was crawl out to the middle of the woods to bear the undesired burdens she ashamedly wanted more than anything. but the birthing was complicated, and the kits came out with great struggle. due to the nature of their birth, the little darlings lasted long enough for palesmoke to name each and every one of them. seemingly moments later, they were gone.
palesmoke told nobody of her tragedy, completely withdrawing into herself only to whenever a male companion comes close. she does her duties with little argument, keeping her head down and mind void of her pain. clan life keeps her busy, but she fears ever bearing kits again as the trauma of watching the life fade from her kits stays with her even to this day.
as she became an apprentice palepaw felt ill equipped having learned limited skills as a young one. her dainty appearance seemed ineffective in battle and even her mentor, convinced by palepaw's mother, took it easy on her those long six moons. she wanted to be like the others, not understanding why the other she-cat apprentices struggled little and palepaw seemed unable to execute a hunt correctly? eventually, even her mentor seemed disinterested in working with her progress.
so palepaw took it upon herself and snuck out to the coves in the middle of the night, catching sand crabs and fighting shadow warriors with teeth and claws of wind and air. when the time came for her assessment, she shocked her pupils and the mentors into scoring high for the limited training she had. her enthusiasm and determination brought her great respect, but the clan still assumed she'd retreat to the queen's den once knighted.
it was a chilly leafbare, unusually cold for that time of year. with food scare mistfur fell ill and soon died. although she loved her mother, palesmoke also saw her nearsightedness and lacked respect for her belief in a safe, risk-less life. the clan buried her under the tree she enjoyed sunbathing against.
palesmoke tried to busy herself with hunting, believing the fresh air might remove, or at least dull, the unexpected pain in her heart. that's when her entire life changed. in the dimmest part of the woods, as she hunkered down in pursuit of a squirrel, an attacker burst out of the bushes seemingly from nowhere and pounced. he was too big, and palesmoke's body just didn't bear the strength to push him off. he left her bleeding, covered in scratches with her virtues ripped clean from her soul.
returning to the camp burned worse than fire. she hid the pregnancy well, fur covering her engorging stomach until all she could do was crawl out to the middle of the woods to bear the undesired burdens she ashamedly wanted more than anything. but the birthing was complicated, and the kits came out with great struggle. due to the nature of their birth, the little darlings lasted long enough for palesmoke to name each and every one of them. seemingly moments later, they were gone.
palesmoke told nobody of her tragedy, completely withdrawing into herself only to whenever a male companion comes close. she does her duties with little argument, keeping her head down and mind void of her pain. clan life keeps her busy, but she fears ever bearing kits again as the trauma of watching the life fade from her kits stays with her even to this day.
