Post by immortes on Aug 31, 2021 9:30:22 GMT -6
quietrain
Lichenclan
lean alabaster tom with gray rosettes and gentle turquoise eyes
warrior
cismale | tomcat
sixteen moons
A P P E A R A N C E
STATURE | who made you straight and tall, to give pleasure to us all?
PELT | who made a dress so fair, for you to wear?
FACE | oh, lovely lily, growing in our garden,
VOICE | oh, lovely lily, who did it all?
quietrain is not a large cat by any means, but his lean form blends in well with his sea-dwelling kin. even then, he might be considered unimposing. his average bone stature, and small pelt give him a dainty appearance. his youth shows in his lean form, and his modesty shows in the aversion of his gaze and dip of his chin. the tom hasn't grown out of his near-death experience as a kit, and it shows. but he's done his best to make up for them, he really has, and his legs have the muscle to prove it. he didn't dare waste one minute in apprenticehood, taking it much more seriously than most. strong and lean, they give him the sudden boost or kick that may save him in battle. despite being relatively carefree and unassuming, quietrain holds himself up with dignity, eyes forward and shoulders back.
PELT | who made a dress so fair, for you to wear?
quietrain's pelt is feathery and thick, each hair extending far past its roots to give him a feathered appearance. this fur may be a blessing in the colder parts of the sea-caves, as well as in leaf-bare, but it's tendency to frizz and puff makes it a general pain to deal with. not the kind to fuss over his appearance in the morning, he usually leaves his pelt to do what it will. like his father, quietrain's pelt is the color of smoke and ash. secretly he envies those whose pelts are adorned with silverpelt blue, but on the surface, he understands that appearance is merely a materialistic notion. it's his mind that matters.
FACE | oh, lovely lily, growing in our garden,
his muzzle is tapered, pronounced, though not to the degree of a oriental. it's narrow form grants him a surprising degree of handsomeness, again something he will never admit to. there is nothing remarkable in terms of color on his face; the fur on his face is the same dusky grey as his pelt. his whiskers are thin and unobtrusive, nearly invisible against his thick coat. his most distinctive feature are his eyes, golden in color -the vibrant color of honey.
VOICE | oh, lovely lily, who did it all?
quietrain's voice is sweet and youthful; immediately comforting if not a bit perky. (voiceclaim: josh hutchinson)
P E R S O N A L I T Y
benevolent, altruistic, honest, pragmatic
ditzy, detached, pessimistic, conformist
ditzy, detached, pessimistic, conformist
BENEVOLENT | well meaning and kindly.
no doubt a rarity to be found within the cold caves and equally cold shoulders of lichenclan, there is very little ill-will to be found within the nature of this cat, and in fact, he's just the opposite. from kithood, this cat has established themselves to be a symbol of honest goodness. he believes that others in his clan should feel welcome and wanted. he's not timid or meek in anyway, no this cat's judgement is firm, but he exudes a general aura of good-will with a smile and understanding nod.
ALTRUISTIC | showing a disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others.
quietrain is selfless, putting the needs of others before his own. though not entirely the subservient type, he cannot help but observe the behaviors of others, and when needed, step in to assist them. seeing others in need or distress always bothered him greatly. he is willing to go out of his way to ensure his clanmate's well being. unfortunately, the tom is observant. he's beginning to learn that his acts of kindness will become fewer and farther in between - the restrictive environment of lichenclan is cold and unwelcoming. the regime bothers him, but he doesn't have the guts to say no.
DITZY | silly or scatterbrained.
a fairly easygoing view on the world - rose-tinted naivety given by youth - has formed this tom into pleasant company, but nevertheless scatterbrained. his thoughts are almost always elsewhere, or many places at once. as a result, he struggles to focus on one thing in particular. most of his words are chosen with eloquence, but there are other times where the brain-to-mouth leak simply, isn't, there. he doesn't do well in reading the intentions of others
HONEST | free of deceit and untruthfulness; sincere.
quietrain has a very firm grip on his morals, and he refuses to be swayed by them, even with danger and temptation knocking on his door. he has retained much of the virtuous morals from his kithood, and to stray from them is considered the gravest sin in his book. there is nothing in his disposition to suggest artifice, and those who seek to look still deeper will find his soul unblemished from the sins of deceit. his manner is very straightforward, and what someone sees is what they'll get.
PHLEGMATIC | having an unemotional and stolidly calm disposition
the grey tom is not marked for any wild swings in his mood, and even if his emotions run high, he keeps them concealed as much as possible. quietrain is a tranquil presence, and his level-headedness keeps situations from escalating. the grey tom has been on the receiving end of snarls and insults regarding his apparent pacifism, but the grey tom believes that kindness should be marked as a gift. in a sense, he's got 'thick skin'; insults take a long time to get under his skin, and his temper takes time to boil. he's got a long fuse, that's for sure.
PRAGMATIC | dealing with things sensibly and realistically in a way that is based on practical rather than theoretical considerations.
unsurprising, considering who his mentor is.
PESSIMISTIC | tending to believe that the worst will happen
text
CONFORMIST | to conform to accepted behavior or established practices
text
EVASIVE | tending to avoid commitment or self-revelation, especially by responding only indirectly
text
H I S T O R Y
She loved the quiet moments
after the rain fell,
when the sunlight glistened
along the dark branches.
Father Lochwhisker
Mother Silvernose
Littermates Frostkit (deceased - stillborn) Ternkit (deceased - stillborn)
Incredibly, there was not much in the way of sound, nor of movement, only of silence. He lay as still as if starclan itself had touched him, and spirited away his soul. The medicine cat would've proclaimed him stillborn, had it not been for his faint breathing. His cries were so faint and empty that it seemed to have deserted him altogether. His mother, Silvernose, was frightened, as all queens are when they think they've lost their brood before they got their first taste of life. Her nudges and grieved mews stirred him no more than his siblings, who lay nearby, deprived of breath and sound.
There were members of her bloodline that harbored rebellious notions, who favored Egretfeather over Sagestrike's tyranny. Over time, most of them withering away or taking to the shadows. Initially, she would've scoffed at the notion of kits bearing the sins of their parentage, but as he lay there quietly, she began to realize what fear was. Silvernose was a young queen, lively and vivacious - a perfect choice for the established, senior warrior Lochwhisker to court. Their relationship was the usual fare; stilted and formal, but ultimately loveless. In traditional eyes, star-bound duty trumped any hope of affection, and the queen was made to rear her children alone.
She would've given up all hope together had not the medicine cat pushed her to forcibly draw him close to her breast, lick warmth into his tiny shivering form. It saved his life, and suddenly he was able to draw breath, utter cries of life, though quieter. Silvernose wept in relief at Starclan's divine judgement, and pulled her son closer so that she may bury her muzzle in his fur. It was certainly not an incident she'd be forgetting anytime soon.
Quietkit, as he had aptly been named for that fateful night, grew up constantly watched and doted upon by his worrying mother. Unlike most of the other kits, who spent much of their time outside, he was confined to the nest, always within the watchful eye of his mother for it dismayed her so to worry as to his wellbeing. Thankfully, it seemed that the excitement from outside had a way of finding him, and it found him in the manner of a brash and cocky tom with a pelt as bright as flame. Loud was his voice, and so forceful his demands that Quietkit hardly had the resolution to resist him. There wasn't a moment that the two toms were apart, as close as brothers could've ever been with no blood relation between them.
Their friendship was made all the more remarkable by a stark contrast in their personalities, their disparate temperaments. A slim second to meet and that slim distance was crossed. As it turns out, Cardinalkit - aptly named for his fiery pelt - had no shortage of adventure in his life, and never had a problem with the blue kit's presence. Silvernose feared for him; he really did - her sole surviving son, and her presence it was felt through his every waking moment. Quietkit was fraught with worry as well, but Cardinalkit could only scoff.
The cut in their personalities was so disparate, it would've initially seemed they would be better suited to allies than
after the rain fell,
when the sunlight glistened
along the dark branches.
Father Lochwhisker
Mother Silvernose
Littermates Frostkit (deceased - stillborn) Ternkit (deceased - stillborn)
she loved the quiet moments
Incredibly, there was not much in the way of sound, nor of movement, only of silence. He lay as still as if starclan itself had touched him, and spirited away his soul. The medicine cat would've proclaimed him stillborn, had it not been for his faint breathing. His cries were so faint and empty that it seemed to have deserted him altogether. His mother, Silvernose, was frightened, as all queens are when they think they've lost their brood before they got their first taste of life. Her nudges and grieved mews stirred him no more than his siblings, who lay nearby, deprived of breath and sound.
There were members of her bloodline that harbored rebellious notions, who favored Egretfeather over Sagestrike's tyranny. Over time, most of them withering away or taking to the shadows. Initially, she would've scoffed at the notion of kits bearing the sins of their parentage, but as he lay there quietly, she began to realize what fear was. Silvernose was a young queen, lively and vivacious - a perfect choice for the established, senior warrior Lochwhisker to court. Their relationship was the usual fare; stilted and formal, but ultimately loveless. In traditional eyes, star-bound duty trumped any hope of affection, and the queen was made to rear her children alone.
She would've given up all hope together had not the medicine cat pushed her to forcibly draw him close to her breast, lick warmth into his tiny shivering form. It saved his life, and suddenly he was able to draw breath, utter cries of life, though quieter. Silvernose wept in relief at Starclan's divine judgement, and pulled her son closer so that she may bury her muzzle in his fur. It was certainly not an incident she'd be forgetting anytime soon.
after the rain fell
Quietkit, as he had aptly been named for that fateful night, grew up constantly watched and doted upon by his worrying mother. Unlike most of the other kits, who spent much of their time outside, he was confined to the nest, always within the watchful eye of his mother for it dismayed her so to worry as to his wellbeing. Thankfully, it seemed that the excitement from outside had a way of finding him, and it found him in the manner of a brash and cocky tom with a pelt as bright as flame. Loud was his voice, and so forceful his demands that Quietkit hardly had the resolution to resist him. There wasn't a moment that the two toms were apart, as close as brothers could've ever been with no blood relation between them.
Their friendship was made all the more remarkable by a stark contrast in their personalities, their disparate temperaments. A slim second to meet and that slim distance was crossed. As it turns out, Cardinalkit - aptly named for his fiery pelt - had no shortage of adventure in his life, and never had a problem with the blue kit's presence. Silvernose feared for him; he really did - her sole surviving son, and her presence it was felt through his every waking moment. Quietkit was fraught with worry as well, but Cardinalkit could only scoff.
"There's no chance of you ever growing up if you can't leave the nursery. Unless you plan on sleeping here during apprenticehood. Grown warriors don't stick by their mother's sides."
The cut in their personalities was so disparate, it would've initially seemed they would be better suited to allies than