first posted Feb 7, 2016 18:36:57 GMT
Post by weaselwhisker on Feb 7, 2016 18:36:57 GMT
Character Name: Weaselwhisker
Character Age: fifty-four moons
Character Gender: tom
Character Sexuality: bi
Character's Clan: riverclan.
Character's Rank: warrior
Short description: A tom with amber eyes and brown fur.It would be wrong to say that Weaselwhisker wasn't affected by those moons infested by the Coven's ill ways. The once child-like warrior had grown weary of strangers and of good wishes. After 54 long moons, the tom finally grew up, but not in the way he had ever hoped.
He was whimsical of the past, where he could be carefree without fear of a stranger's kind word. Where he did not jump at he scent of a new creature. Jokes fell on his thin shoulders without any laughter from him, for nothing seemed to crack a smile onto his face anymore. He was no longer deserving of the -whisker suffix, which had originally been given to him for his curious and almost kit-like personality.
He remembered laughing constantly and cracking jokes. He remembered his parents shaking their heads every time, only a small smile betraying their pseudo-disdain. He had looked nothing like them. They had been big and full-bodied warriors, with paws to match. He had come out so small that had he had any siblings, he would have been the runt. As Weaselkit grew, nothing changed. He was not a taller cat, though not particularly short either, but he was a long cat. His father, Stonetail, had once joked that they should have named him Longkit instead, and affectionately had referred to his son as Longkit, Longpaw, and Longwhisker for the rest of their time together.
Weaselwhisker was a cat who fed off of other's energy. If others were happy, he was happy. If they were sad, so was he. However, since the battle with the Coven he had been engulfed by a negative energy, as though the problems he had encountered and conquered his entire life suddenly falling back on his shoulders.
His parents had been a main factor in his happiness. As he had been an only kit, his mother was fiercly protective of him, and he grew up sheltered and adoring of his two shadows. That all changed when the Coven attacked. He fought for his clan harder than he had ever had to fight in his life, and though the battle was won, he had lost so much.
Physically, he had been beaten and battered beyond return, and his once untainted brown coat was riddled with angry scars that never seemed to heal. His right ear was tattered beyond recognition, causing him to have decreased hearing in that ear. His gait, once so smooth and quick, was now slow and marked with a limp.
He came out worse emotionally than any of his Physical problems. The toils of war, of killing another cat, skewed his innocence that he had managed to carry all of his life. His parents, once jubilant and his protectors, were now just two more bodies in the ground and two more stars in Silverpelt. They had been older, in their 70's, going on 80's, and they had still chosen to fight. "The clan needs all hands on deck," they had told him when he voiced his concerns about them joining. "If we die now, we will die with honour."
Weaselwhisker couldn't give a rat's butt about them dying with honour; for him, they were just dead. Whether they died protecting their clan or not, the fact was that they were murdered in front of his very eyes, and their last screams still rang out on the wind for him to hear for forever. He felt defeated despite the clan's victory. He had no kits of his own, no love interest, and despite being friendly with all his clanmates he had not had a single true friend. His family was all he had, and it was gone.
OOC name: gilligan or alessia whichever
Timezone: -6
Tag: n/a
