Post by Egotistic on May 5, 2021 17:44:31 GMT -6
Mist
Loner
A stocky, pale-furred tom with rosetted fur and grey-blue eyes.
n/a
Male | Tom
22 moons
Appearance
A certain aptitude for survival and a stubborn predisposition for putting on extra weight have left Mist looking better off following the winters sickness and famine than most. He is stockily built and round of shoulder, broad but not overly so with stout and powerful limbs that lie closer to the ground than away from it. Yet for his stolid proportions, his face is one dominated by a youthful and deceptive pudginess, one more inclined to soft borders than the angular and gaunt proportions often associated with hardship and solitary living.
In color, he possesses the marbled snow Bengal markings of his kin, the gradual gradient fading and darkening in intervals, creating a clash of warm and cold tones, while his eyes, a pale shade of greyish-blue, above the gentle pink leathers of his nose further compliment his elusive appearance.
In color, he possesses the marbled snow Bengal markings of his kin, the gradual gradient fading and darkening in intervals, creating a clash of warm and cold tones, while his eyes, a pale shade of greyish-blue, above the gentle pink leathers of his nose further compliment his elusive appearance.
Personality
resourceful, self-loathing, misanthropic, stoic
brooding, vindictive, reclusive, overcompensating
re·source·ful | /rəˈsôrsfəl/ | having the ability to find quick and clever ways to overcome difficulties. || Solitary living is oft unkind to those reluctant to adapt—a law of which Mist has seen enforced time and time again to those who wither and fade in the winter moons or resort to violence and extortion to fill their own bellies. Of himself he has developed a certain aptitude to combat the hardship of life alone, finding opportunity where others would not and as such keeping the clutches of famine well away from himself. As such he has a certain instinctive cunning that has kept him alive where many others would have failed.
self-loath·ing | \ ˌself-ˈlō-ṯẖiŋ/ | loathing of oneself. || Gripped by his own inability to prevent the deaths of his mother and brother, Mist carries upon his shoulders a certain unshakeable guilt and sadness in relation to his own abilities and deservedness of company or kindness. Both of which he considers himself unworthy of, and so has isolated and denied himself the compassion of others out of a stubborn self-hatred and guilt he cannot seem to rid himself of.
mis·an·throp·ic | /ˌmis(ə)nˈTHräpik/ | disliking humankind and avoiding human society. || Disillusioned at a young age to the folly of the devout and the extortive nature of LichenClan politics and religious practices, Mist views all those around him with an untrusting and skeptical eye. He does not permit many to grow close to him, and of those that he does, he does so always with the thought that they will some day also disappoint and betray his trust in some way.
sto·ic | /ˈstōik/ | capable of enduring pain or hardship without showing one’s feelings or complaining. || Perhaps the result of living alone for so long or some other emotional stunting, Mist seems incapable of communicating his emotions physically or verbally. Feelings of vulnerability are foreign and frightening in his eyes and as such he does not steep himself in the practice of opening himself to anyone, destining himself instead to keep such feelings locked tightly away where they cannot harm him anymore.
brood·ing | /ˈbro͞odiNG/ | showing deep unhappiness of thought. || For one so young, Mist exudes a certain unrelenting air of melancholy. Dark are his thoughts are addled with the corrupting influence of pessimism. It is not often they light themselves with wishful or hopeful thinking, but remain stubbornly set on the worst possible outcome as if to spare himself the hardship of being caught unawares. Whatever the cause, it certainly does not strengthen his appeal as a social partner.
vin·dic·tive | /vēnˈdiktiv/ | having or showing a strong or unreasoning desire for revenge. || Though not often voiced, Mist bears a deep and unceasing hatred for LichenClan and all those who ignorantly reside within it and uphold its beliefs. Such an animosity has roused in him a restless want to avenge the death of his mother and brother, though a certain unshakeable fear and cowardice has done nothing short of steering him farther from their borders than closer.
re·clu·sive | /rəˈklo͞osiv/ | avoiding the company of other people; solitary. || Preferring the comfort of his own thoughts to the ramblings of others, Mist fines comfort in solitude where others might find themselves smothered by such a way of living. As such, it is not often he reveals himself to any, preferring to range his hunting grounds at unfavorable hours if not only to decrease the chance of contact with the outside world. Though there are a few with which he shares his company, they are a very small few and he does not show any willingness to add to their paltry numbers.
overcompensating | /ˌōvərˈkämpənˌsādiNG/ | taking excessive measures in attempting to correct or make amends for an error, weakness, or problem. || A tough exterior and haughty disregard are all the product of overcompensating for the weakness and insecurity he knows himself to possess. He lacks genuine confidence in himself, and though his philosophical tangents and words of advice would lead one to believe him someone who has attained the stability they crave, he is often listless and without purpose, overcome with melancholic thoughts and personal regrets that haunt him at every turn.
History
Father: Cricketstride (npc)
Mother: Pebblewind (npc|deceased)
Littermate(s): Paleflight (npc|inactive), Scalepaw (npc|deceased)
Mate(s): n/a
Offspring: n/a
Borne From Old Blood
The looks shared between Cricketstride and Pebblewind had never been of love but an overwhelming fondness—an unshakeable and almost reverend regard for what the other had sacrificed in their pursuit of piety and servitude that blossomed in them a deep and unwavering respect. That was always how he remembered them, fondly looking upon the other, always sure of where the other would be and confident in the others abilities. But it was not often one saw them sharing tongues or a nest together; their closeness seemed only a physical thing when they stooped in prayer or stood stolidly before their brood, their eyes alight with pride, though their love was isolated for the lives they had helped in bringing forth, never one another.
But even so, he had no reason to doubt the security of their coupling. It offered stability and so doting were they that rarely did he ever go wanting.
Always did he have his father’s wise words and stern lecture and he knew too that should he wish for the compassionate coddling of his mother she was never far from reach. Then all he had looked upon them both with nothing short of fondness as he looked upon his Clan and saw only something he so desperately wish to become a part of himself.
“I’ve done all that I can.” From where he sat outside the den walls he heard the medicine cats dreary tone bereft of anything in the way of encouragement or good faith. The words were a desolate as they were tired and roused in him as well as his mother, he knew, a certain unceasing desperation.
“But there must be something more we can do for him.” Begging. He had only heard such in those isolated moments at night when she thought them all but asleep at her side—those whispered words she uttered to their ancestors who rarely spoke back.
“There is nothing.” And the words were spoken with a firmness that dissuaded any further bargaining. Then a silence fell of which nothing stirred or moved or dared to breathe that was broken only by a gentle assurance. “Continue with your prayers for now,” and there was a gentleness this time that softened the scathing lash of those preceding them. “StarClan has kept him alive this long, there may still be hope. Until then, ensure he rests and feed him the herbs I have provided you. If our ancestors favor him, he will live a while longer yet.”
And so the matter was resolved and as he heard his mother’s departing pawsteps he found himself fleeing for fear of what should happen might she glimpse him there.
Mother: Pebblewind (npc|deceased)
Littermate(s): Paleflight (npc|inactive), Scalepaw (npc|deceased)
Mate(s): n/a
Offspring: n/a
Borne From Old Blood
The looks shared between Cricketstride and Pebblewind had never been of love but an overwhelming fondness—an unshakeable and almost reverend regard for what the other had sacrificed in their pursuit of piety and servitude that blossomed in them a deep and unwavering respect. That was always how he remembered them, fondly looking upon the other, always sure of where the other would be and confident in the others abilities. But it was not often one saw them sharing tongues or a nest together; their closeness seemed only a physical thing when they stooped in prayer or stood stolidly before their brood, their eyes alight with pride, though their love was isolated for the lives they had helped in bringing forth, never one another.
But even so, he had no reason to doubt the security of their coupling. It offered stability and so doting were they that rarely did he ever go wanting.
Always did he have his father’s wise words and stern lecture and he knew too that should he wish for the compassionate coddling of his mother she was never far from reach. Then all he had looked upon them both with nothing short of fondness as he looked upon his Clan and saw only something he so desperately wish to become a part of himself.
Important Events of Kithood
Brought together by an indebtedness to the Clan and a shared dedication to strengthening LichenClan ranks, Cricketstride and Pebblewind strike a deal, later resulting in the birth of their litter. While their coupling was not the product of love, the two remain stolid figures in the youths lives and collaborate in their rearing, sharing their individual teachings and wisdom as would best benefit their offspring.
Despite their unfaltering wisdom of Pebblewind and Cricketstride combined, Shiverkit develops a natural knack for mischief that subverts eithers expectations and later will contribute more than enough to Palekit’s own mischievous tendencies. Finding an escape from his parents drawling teachings in the scheming plots conjured in his head, Shiverkit develops a strong aptitude for drafting of new plots and schemes, much to the chagrin of all those who wake to stinking nests doused in mouse-bile, craftily hidden thistles and thorns, and various other inconveniences.
Where Shiverkit and Palekit grow further more wily in the passage of moons, a change comes over Scalepaw that rouses concern and unease within the family as he regularly takes ill. Regularly dogged by unshakeable coughs and trips to the medicine den, as his health declines a somberness falls over their mischievous ways. Reluctant to hassle his parents any further, Shiverkit retires and succumbs to his mother and father’s influence although begrudgingly if not to alleviate one of many of their already existing problems.
Brought together by an indebtedness to the Clan and a shared dedication to strengthening LichenClan ranks, Cricketstride and Pebblewind strike a deal, later resulting in the birth of their litter. While their coupling was not the product of love, the two remain stolid figures in the youths lives and collaborate in their rearing, sharing their individual teachings and wisdom as would best benefit their offspring.
Despite their unfaltering wisdom of Pebblewind and Cricketstride combined, Shiverkit develops a natural knack for mischief that subverts eithers expectations and later will contribute more than enough to Palekit’s own mischievous tendencies. Finding an escape from his parents drawling teachings in the scheming plots conjured in his head, Shiverkit develops a strong aptitude for drafting of new plots and schemes, much to the chagrin of all those who wake to stinking nests doused in mouse-bile, craftily hidden thistles and thorns, and various other inconveniences.
Where Shiverkit and Palekit grow further more wily in the passage of moons, a change comes over Scalepaw that rouses concern and unease within the family as he regularly takes ill. Regularly dogged by unshakeable coughs and trips to the medicine den, as his health declines a somberness falls over their mischievous ways. Reluctant to hassle his parents any further, Shiverkit retires and succumbs to his mother and father’s influence although begrudgingly if not to alleviate one of many of their already existing problems.
Regrets Uttered In Rattling Lungs
“I’ve done all that I can.” From where he sat outside the den walls he heard the medicine cats dreary tone bereft of anything in the way of encouragement or good faith. The words were a desolate as they were tired and roused in him as well as his mother, he knew, a certain unceasing desperation.
“But there must be something more we can do for him.” Begging. He had only heard such in those isolated moments at night when she thought them all but asleep at her side—those whispered words she uttered to their ancestors who rarely spoke back.
“There is nothing.” And the words were spoken with a firmness that dissuaded any further bargaining. Then a silence fell of which nothing stirred or moved or dared to breathe that was broken only by a gentle assurance. “Continue with your prayers for now,” and there was a gentleness this time that softened the scathing lash of those preceding them. “StarClan has kept him alive this long, there may still be hope. Until then, ensure he rests and feed him the herbs I have provided you. If our ancestors favor him, he will live a while longer yet.”
And so the matter was resolved and as he heard his mother’s departing pawsteps he found himself fleeing for fear of what should happen might she glimpse him there.
Important Events of Late Kithood
An air of melancholy rests heavily over all as Scalekit, the runt of the litter, grows increasingly sick. Time once spent in the company of their parents becomes scarce as the two devote themselves to ceaseless prayer, desperately pleading the stars above to spare their ailing son.
When the time comes for their brood to be bathed in the Moon Pool, Pebblewind and Cricketstride take it as yet another chance to prove their devotion to their ancestors and despite Pebblewind’s unease, offer their son to the waters. Watching his brother’s weakening body being bathed in the waters as his was before him, Shiverkit is appalled by his parents’ negligence and scarred by the ominous words of Cinderface as he seals his fate, summing up his unshakeable illness as the will of StarClan. Afterward, watching as his brother’s condition only worsens, Shiverkit grows increasingly more pessimistic in regard to the customs he once held with reverence.
As Scalekit’s health waned, so too did the optimistic and mischievous nature of which Shiverkit was once known. Deeply perturbed, Shiverkit grows brooding and somber, regularly visiting his brother in his ailing state and voicing futile prayers to the god despite his own increasing lack of faith in eithers abilities to save him.
An air of melancholy rests heavily over all as Scalekit, the runt of the litter, grows increasingly sick. Time once spent in the company of their parents becomes scarce as the two devote themselves to ceaseless prayer, desperately pleading the stars above to spare their ailing son.
When the time comes for their brood to be bathed in the Moon Pool, Pebblewind and Cricketstride take it as yet another chance to prove their devotion to their ancestors and despite Pebblewind’s unease, offer their son to the waters. Watching his brother’s weakening body being bathed in the waters as his was before him, Shiverkit is appalled by his parents’ negligence and scarred by the ominous words of Cinderface as he seals his fate, summing up his unshakeable illness as the will of StarClan. Afterward, watching as his brother’s condition only worsens, Shiverkit grows increasingly more pessimistic in regard to the customs he once held with reverence.
As Scalekit’s health waned, so too did the optimistic and mischievous nature of which Shiverkit was once known. Deeply perturbed, Shiverkit grows brooding and somber, regularly visiting his brother in his ailing state and voicing futile prayers to the god despite his own increasing lack of faith in eithers abilities to save him.
Senseless Wandering
“Cricketstride, you must speak some sense into him- I won’t be responsible- I already have enough to deal with- Why can’t he be more like-“
His mother’s words still rung in his ears as he stood in his father’s wake, peering into a face so very like his own, yet greatly marred by age.
“Son—”
“I don’t care what you say, I’m not going back there. I won’t apologize.” Though he lacked the courage to meet Cricketstride’s illegible expression, the words roused a false confidence.
“You must, and you will. What good does all of this do? You’ve done nothing but make a nuisance of yourself for everyone. Don’t we already have enough to deal with? Your brother grows sicker by the day and yet—”
“What does that have to do with me?” he muttered miserably. “It isn’t my fault he’s sick—I wasn’t the one who got him like that.”
“No, but you’re not three moons anymore, either,” Cricketstride said, and his expression grew weary. “You’re too old for this. For the love you bear your mother, stop this—it only worries her heart, and the stars know she has enough as is to worry about. Just promise me that and you shan’t have to apologize.”
He met his eyes then and was gripped by the shame he felt. “I… I promise.”
Important Events of Apprenticeship + Banishment
At six moons Palepaw and Shiverpaw graduate into their apprentice titles and are entrusted to their future mentors while Scalepaw, still ailing, sees his ceremony further delayed. Despite the opportunities provided by his new freedoms, Shiverpaw spends little time heeding his mentor and spends his days aimlessly wandering and inconveniencing others. He quickly garners an unpleasant reputation and his mere presence becomes scorned.
When leafbare approaches, Scalepaw becomes sick with an incurable cough. Unsurprisingly, he does not win his fight with the illness that plagues him and passes peacefully in the night to be found by Pebblewind. Stricken by the loss, his mother’s health similarly declines as he fails to take proper care of herself and passes of heartbreak. While standing vigil over their graves, a knot of resentment and grief festers within Shiverpaw.
Shiverpaw’s aimless wanderings become more purposeful after his mother’s passing. He returns to his duties, but without his previous vigor, seeming always to be dogged by a persistent melancholy. Eventually his efforts, half-hearted as they are allow his passage into warriorhood, though when offered his warrior name, he declines it and denounces LichenClan, resulting in his subsequent banishment.
Upon fleeing, he is pursued by a patrol sent by Minnowstar to dispatch of him. Their scuffle is violent and desperate, with Shiverpaw only escaping by chance, himself badly injured, but still with strength enough to find the shoreline where he lives out his days in solitude.
Present time…
At six moons Palepaw and Shiverpaw graduate into their apprentice titles and are entrusted to their future mentors while Scalepaw, still ailing, sees his ceremony further delayed. Despite the opportunities provided by his new freedoms, Shiverpaw spends little time heeding his mentor and spends his days aimlessly wandering and inconveniencing others. He quickly garners an unpleasant reputation and his mere presence becomes scorned.
When leafbare approaches, Scalepaw becomes sick with an incurable cough. Unsurprisingly, he does not win his fight with the illness that plagues him and passes peacefully in the night to be found by Pebblewind. Stricken by the loss, his mother’s health similarly declines as he fails to take proper care of herself and passes of heartbreak. While standing vigil over their graves, a knot of resentment and grief festers within Shiverpaw.
Shiverpaw’s aimless wanderings become more purposeful after his mother’s passing. He returns to his duties, but without his previous vigor, seeming always to be dogged by a persistent melancholy. Eventually his efforts, half-hearted as they are allow his passage into warriorhood, though when offered his warrior name, he declines it and denounces LichenClan, resulting in his subsequent banishment.
Upon fleeing, he is pursued by a patrol sent by Minnowstar to dispatch of him. Their scuffle is violent and desperate, with Shiverpaw only escaping by chance, himself badly injured, but still with strength enough to find the shoreline where he lives out his days in solitude.
Present time…
