Post by Wandering Moth on Feb 6, 2007 18:38:36 GMT -5
piccy of Moth -/-/-> k43.pbase.com/o4/97/517497/1/48229472.greycat1.JPG
Name of Cat: Birth and Tribe: Moth of Wandering Flight
To Rogues/Loners/Kittypets: Moth
To the Clans: Mothwanderer
Age of Cat: 27 moons
Rank of Cat: Rogue/Loner though she calls herself a Roamer
Gender of Cat: She-cat
Appearance: Slender and well fit from traveling on her own four paws, Moth has great endurance and strength -- though it doesn't look like she possesses it. The she-cat has a soft ash-colored pelt that is almost a uniform grey coloration. But it lightens on her shoulders, face, and has slightly darker blending stripes on her long tail.
Her fur seems to have a blue tint, and her nose is a blue-gray as well. Moth's eyes are a crisp frost-colored tint -- the hue looking like water running over ice... Most cats are frightened away because of them.
Personality: Almost always soft-spoken, the roamer doesn't like to be in a gigantic group of cats, which is why she initially ran away from her home. Moth respects cats with power, though she treats all cats equal; with suspicion. Life on the move constantly has hardened her emotions and sharpened her instincts more than it ever could if she stayed with the Tribe of Soaring Skies. She is always imagining something better at a new turn, and is always conjuring up images of greener grass on the other side...
Moth loves to explore new places, cats, and anything else -- she is almost like a kit in that aspect; getting into trouble constantly, throwing caution to the wind and free-for-all-ing, and only barely pulling herself out of problems. Though she may act calm and cool and composed on the outside, it is a demeanor that is false -- her true colors are still that of a training to-be, though (admittedly) she is smarter than that and can take charge of situations if she wanted to.
The roamer may seem naive and shy, but if threatened her acquired loner/rogue instincts kick in and she fights marvelously, using the powerful techniques taught to her in a past life it seems.
History: Moth of Wandering Flight was blessed to Sun of Blazing Fire and Cloud of Snow Fall. She was an only kit, which was normal in the Tribe of Soaring Skies, and was brought up just as normally. Moth, as she was nicknamed, always watched the other kits fight and play, but she stood silently by, uncomfortable in the close confines of the hollow that was the Tribe's camp.
Moth, a destined prey-hunter, was a brilliant to-be. Her teacher, Laugh of Burbling Stream, was a skilled prey-hunter that showed her the ways of the hunters that had been passed down for many generations back in time. As she neared her 10th moon, Moth and Stream were training; racing through the waving green fronds in the Endless -- a plain that stretched as far as the eye could see. The to-be and the prey-hunter were suddenly stopped by the scent of a strange cat.
Moth and Stream crept upon a 'rogue' that was stalking a mouse clumsily. The to-be automatically leaped forward and finished the prey off and the tom reared away in surprise. He lashed out, but Stream pinned him quickly. Moth was intrigued by the elderly cat, and he posed no greater threat than eating some prey in the undiminished stock that the Tribe had.
He soon had the to-be enraptured in descriptions of towering trunks of trees and bright reds and golds of turning leaves, and the sight of craggy mountains that reared up even higher than the eagles that swooped down from the sky. The rogue was soon on his way and that night, Moth had fitful dreams of never seeing the enticing visions he had stirred, desires he had stoked, and an itching in her paws came to life...
Pale eyes flashes open as the to-be fled from the over-populated camp, leaving her parents and teacher a piece of prey each that carried her scent. Moth sped through the dark grass, gliding like a ghost. She smelled the rogue faintly and soon she over took him.
She asked if she could go with him, and he complied, saying that he needed the company. He called her Moth, and she called him Jasper.
Jasper taught her -- or tried -- to be calmer and patient, leading her away from her birth place and further into the world. They soon encountered a Two-leg nest, and Jasper meowed at the door, with a curious Moth standing behind him. The door opened and a tall creature taller than anything she had ever seen before loomed out and patted Jasper's head and bent lower with strange eyes to examine her. Moth was then cradled and lead into the nest with Jasper.
For two nights they stayed with the large beast with Moth sullen and Jasper sleepy. But then they were off, and she brightened up considerably; the den was drafty and too open then her own den, and the nest was hard and straight unlike her nest of heather that melded to her contours. Moth and Jasper trekked rapidly through a forest, a real forest. The former to-be gaped at the size of the trees... they were taller than the Two-leg!
Jasper showed her how to hunt and blend in with the forest, and though it felt different than the Tribe's hunting ground, Moth was able to hunt by herself without worry of vicious dogs coming and attacking her. The she-cat and tom smelled the marks of many different cats, but they were all the same strangely.
'Clans,' Jasper said. 'RedClan, Fernstar leads them.' The old tom padded confidently through the territory, having previously met and helped the leader when first establishing her Clan. They had become allies, and maybe even considered friends. But they were soon halted by a patrol of hostile warriors, and the young cat and old were taken as prisoners before Fernstar. The elderly she-cat allowed them to stay, and even called Moth 'Mothpaw' and she was even trained until she was to become a warrior; Mothwanderer.
Of course, the training had been hard; the other apprentices avoided her, and Moth had been treated with dislike amoung the warriors and queens as well, a curiousity to the kits too. But Jasper was greeted warmly by the elders and cats of all ages clambered to hear his stories. Mothpaw had only one mon of training as an apprentice before she was handed her name, which was a relief.
And yet a curse.
One a crisp morning of leaf-fall, Jasper wouldn't awake. Grieving Moth left RedClan and wandered the hills beyond, even coming to the feet of mountains. Her pelt matched perfectly with the rocks but she didn't mount it and climb for fear of falling off. The she-cat skirted around it and wandered aimlessly in lands unknown, getting attacked and trapped, but always squirmming out of it. And once, when she was walking nearby a Two-leg developement, she ran into (almost literally) into a young tom named Cricket. At this time she was 26 moons old.
Name of Cat: Birth and Tribe: Moth of Wandering Flight
To Rogues/Loners/Kittypets: Moth
To the Clans: Mothwanderer
Age of Cat: 27 moons
Rank of Cat: Rogue/Loner though she calls herself a Roamer
Gender of Cat: She-cat
Appearance: Slender and well fit from traveling on her own four paws, Moth has great endurance and strength -- though it doesn't look like she possesses it. The she-cat has a soft ash-colored pelt that is almost a uniform grey coloration. But it lightens on her shoulders, face, and has slightly darker blending stripes on her long tail.
Her fur seems to have a blue tint, and her nose is a blue-gray as well. Moth's eyes are a crisp frost-colored tint -- the hue looking like water running over ice... Most cats are frightened away because of them.
Personality: Almost always soft-spoken, the roamer doesn't like to be in a gigantic group of cats, which is why she initially ran away from her home. Moth respects cats with power, though she treats all cats equal; with suspicion. Life on the move constantly has hardened her emotions and sharpened her instincts more than it ever could if she stayed with the Tribe of Soaring Skies. She is always imagining something better at a new turn, and is always conjuring up images of greener grass on the other side...
Moth loves to explore new places, cats, and anything else -- she is almost like a kit in that aspect; getting into trouble constantly, throwing caution to the wind and free-for-all-ing, and only barely pulling herself out of problems. Though she may act calm and cool and composed on the outside, it is a demeanor that is false -- her true colors are still that of a training to-be, though (admittedly) she is smarter than that and can take charge of situations if she wanted to.
The roamer may seem naive and shy, but if threatened her acquired loner/rogue instincts kick in and she fights marvelously, using the powerful techniques taught to her in a past life it seems.
History: Moth of Wandering Flight was blessed to Sun of Blazing Fire and Cloud of Snow Fall. She was an only kit, which was normal in the Tribe of Soaring Skies, and was brought up just as normally. Moth, as she was nicknamed, always watched the other kits fight and play, but she stood silently by, uncomfortable in the close confines of the hollow that was the Tribe's camp.
Moth, a destined prey-hunter, was a brilliant to-be. Her teacher, Laugh of Burbling Stream, was a skilled prey-hunter that showed her the ways of the hunters that had been passed down for many generations back in time. As she neared her 10th moon, Moth and Stream were training; racing through the waving green fronds in the Endless -- a plain that stretched as far as the eye could see. The to-be and the prey-hunter were suddenly stopped by the scent of a strange cat.
Moth and Stream crept upon a 'rogue' that was stalking a mouse clumsily. The to-be automatically leaped forward and finished the prey off and the tom reared away in surprise. He lashed out, but Stream pinned him quickly. Moth was intrigued by the elderly cat, and he posed no greater threat than eating some prey in the undiminished stock that the Tribe had.
He soon had the to-be enraptured in descriptions of towering trunks of trees and bright reds and golds of turning leaves, and the sight of craggy mountains that reared up even higher than the eagles that swooped down from the sky. The rogue was soon on his way and that night, Moth had fitful dreams of never seeing the enticing visions he had stirred, desires he had stoked, and an itching in her paws came to life...
Pale eyes flashes open as the to-be fled from the over-populated camp, leaving her parents and teacher a piece of prey each that carried her scent. Moth sped through the dark grass, gliding like a ghost. She smelled the rogue faintly and soon she over took him.
She asked if she could go with him, and he complied, saying that he needed the company. He called her Moth, and she called him Jasper.
Jasper taught her -- or tried -- to be calmer and patient, leading her away from her birth place and further into the world. They soon encountered a Two-leg nest, and Jasper meowed at the door, with a curious Moth standing behind him. The door opened and a tall creature taller than anything she had ever seen before loomed out and patted Jasper's head and bent lower with strange eyes to examine her. Moth was then cradled and lead into the nest with Jasper.
For two nights they stayed with the large beast with Moth sullen and Jasper sleepy. But then they were off, and she brightened up considerably; the den was drafty and too open then her own den, and the nest was hard and straight unlike her nest of heather that melded to her contours. Moth and Jasper trekked rapidly through a forest, a real forest. The former to-be gaped at the size of the trees... they were taller than the Two-leg!
Jasper showed her how to hunt and blend in with the forest, and though it felt different than the Tribe's hunting ground, Moth was able to hunt by herself without worry of vicious dogs coming and attacking her. The she-cat and tom smelled the marks of many different cats, but they were all the same strangely.
'Clans,' Jasper said. 'RedClan, Fernstar leads them.' The old tom padded confidently through the territory, having previously met and helped the leader when first establishing her Clan. They had become allies, and maybe even considered friends. But they were soon halted by a patrol of hostile warriors, and the young cat and old were taken as prisoners before Fernstar. The elderly she-cat allowed them to stay, and even called Moth 'Mothpaw' and she was even trained until she was to become a warrior; Mothwanderer.
Of course, the training had been hard; the other apprentices avoided her, and Moth had been treated with dislike amoung the warriors and queens as well, a curiousity to the kits too. But Jasper was greeted warmly by the elders and cats of all ages clambered to hear his stories. Mothpaw had only one mon of training as an apprentice before she was handed her name, which was a relief.
And yet a curse.
One a crisp morning of leaf-fall, Jasper wouldn't awake. Grieving Moth left RedClan and wandered the hills beyond, even coming to the feet of mountains. Her pelt matched perfectly with the rocks but she didn't mount it and climb for fear of falling off. The she-cat skirted around it and wandered aimlessly in lands unknown, getting attacked and trapped, but always squirmming out of it. And once, when she was walking nearby a Two-leg developement, she ran into (almost literally) into a young tom named Cricket. At this time she was 26 moons old.