Post by sliver on Jul 27, 2010 4:16:43 GMT -5
Sliverwing of WindClan
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Name: Sliverwing.
Age: Fourteen moons.
Gender: She-cat.
Clan: WindClan.
Rank: Warrior.
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Reason For Name: Her name, “Sliver–”, was chosen for her extremely small, thin and puny physique, almost like a twig in many ways. The suffix, “–wing”, was given to her for her knack for catching birds that landed in the moorland.
Previous Names: Sliverkit, Sliverpaw.
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One Sentence Description: A tiny crystalline she-cat with large amber eyes.
Appearance: Sliverwing is almost exactly like her name; a sliver, thin as a wing. She always was the runt of everything; of her litter, of the apprentices, and now, of the warriors. Her tiny build has always gotten her made fun of, and many left her out of various activities because of it. She’s small for a cat her age, looking more like a young apprentice than a young warrior. She’s smaller and physically weaker than all the other warriors, which makes her terrible in combat. She hardly has any muscle underneath her thin layer of fur, except for on her back legs; many have wondered about this, as to why her back legs were so strong when the rest of her was frail as a kit. Sliverwing herself never really thought much of it, however, instead harnessing its power into running, and jumping high to catch birds before they could fly away.
Sliverwing’s fur is naturally thin, and she doesn’t shed much when the weather is hot. This can sometimes be either convenient or not, depending on the season; she doesn’t get too hot in green-leaf, thankfully, but practically freezes her tail off every leaf-bare. Because of this, she’s come to hate cold weather of any kind, as well as getting her fur wet; it dries quickly, but she gets extremely cold from it. Her fur is short, like splinters themselves. Her pelt is icy white, and only this, covering her entire body. The color never wavers from this white, and the only noticeable differences in color are the insides of her straight, pointed ears and nose – both colored a dull, grayish pink – and her eyes.
Silverwing’s eyes are large and round, though sometimes they are dull, staring off into the distance, not paying any attention to reality as she spaces out. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul; for her, this holds true. You can easily read the emotions she feels by looking into her eyes, and she is terrible at hiding them, even if she wanted to. Her large irises are bright amber, like a burning flame. There are specks of forest green and gold sprinkled around in them, with a darker orange around the pupil, giving her eyes depth.
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Personality: Sliverwing’s personality, unlike her appearance, isn’t fragile or weak at all. She speaks her mind, regardless of anyone else’s opinions, or any consequences her words may bring. She is incredibly irritable and bitter most of the time, and she has a short fuse; she doesn’t like to be talked to by those she doesn’t know well, and will take no hesitation on telling you that you’re annoying her if you are. As a general rule, Sliverwing doesn’t lie; she finds it wrong, and strives to speak the truth whenever possible. Though sometimes the truth hurts more than a lie, she doesn’t care, and feels that the truth is what keeps the world turning. Sliverwing is logical, preferring facts to assumptions. She prefers to know all of the facts before making a decision related to it, and because of this, she thinks fast, making her an effective hunter, if not a battler.
Though she herself doesn’t really know why, Sliverwing hates kits. Maybe it’s just because they’re loud, annoying, and extremely dependant. Her mothering instinct is all but gone in her, and she can’t picture herself as a queen anytime soon. Many of her Clan, however, often tease her that, since she’s a crappy fighter, she’ll end up growing old in the nursery. This annoys her greatly, and her tongue grows sharper whenever she’s mad. She isn’t one to hold a grudge, however, but she’s too proud to say sorry when she wants to, even if it’s the logical thing to do. Deep down, she’s extremely self-conscious, both about her looks and her actions, though she usually projects a feel of confidence as well as a rebel-y attitude.
Sliverwing doesn’t exactly like the reality she’s been thrust into. She looks upon many aspects about herself – her size, especially – with distain and often seeks out solitude in a quiet corner of the camp or in the moors so she can have some time to herself, to imagine what could, or should, have been. She can space out for long periods of time, and often loses track of said time when she’s fantasizing. She doesn’t act friendly to those who interrupt her daydreaming without good cause, and usually snaps at them, then resumes her fantasy of herself, being a large dog-like creature, unrivaled by any of her kind. Sliverwing has a competitive nature to her sometimes, and can become extremely upset if she loses at something.
Likes: Green-leaf, sunlight, running, little breezes now and then, being alone, peace and quiet, hunting, winning.
Dislikes: Leaf-bare, cold weather, rain, sitting still too long, fighting, kits, caring for the sick, losing.
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History: Sliverwing never knew much about her family line. Her parents told her of a couple generations above them, but their knowledge seemed limited, as if they were unsure of whom their ancestors of many, many seasons ago had been. They’d never said it out loud, of course, but Sliverwing always knew. It turned out that, countless seasons ago, when the ancient Clan of SkyClan had disbanded, a tom had stayed behind while the rest of his Clan left to find a new home, and joined WindClan. He’d fallen in quickly, and soon found a mate; the start of Sliverwing’s bloodline. This is where she’d inherited her strong back legs and reinforced pads, though she knows nothing about her family’s past to this day – she doesn’t even know of SkyClan at the moment.
Sliverwing was born under the name of Sliverkit to two snowy white warriors, her mother having the line of SkyClan in her genes, along with her two brothers and sister. It was confusing to all of them; they all looked identical, except for their differently-colored eyes, so all they had really to rely on for difference was scent. Sliverkit shared her gleaming amber eyes with her mother, as well as her brother, Ashenkit. Her father, other brother, Snowkit, and sister, Cloudkit, all had icy-blue eyes. Even then, Sliverkit was smaller than her littermates, and usually was the first to be recognized. This hardly changed as they grew older, and Sliverkit retained her puny physique. Her twin brother, Ashenkit, was on her side as she grew up, often protecting and threatening anyone who took a crack at Sliverkit’s small size for her. She appreciated this, and thus she and her brother held a close bond throughout kithood.
As Sliverkit grew up into Sliverpaw, the teasing was starting. Most of the Clan had thought that she’d grow into a more normal-sized cat during her kithood, but it would appear not. She was constantly laughed at, and treated differently than the other apprentices, as if she meant less then they had – even her mentor picked up on it. She constantly got upset this way, being more fragile when she was younger, and hid away to calm down whenever she felt sad. That was how her chronic daydreaming had started, and she gradually began to get less and less upset all the time, becoming more spacey when her Clan mates teased her.
Ashenpaw was getting more and more upset, however; he didn’t think that it was fair that everyone picked on Sliverpaw so much. And he only for more upset when it looked like Sliverpaw was caring less and less. One day, he confronted her, asking why she didn’t care that everyone looked down on her. For the first time in their lives, they got into an argument with each other, ending when Ashenpaw stormed out of the camp to blow off some steam. Already over it the second he took his first step out of the camp, Sliverpaw waited by the entrance for him. She grew worried when he didn’t return, and requested the leader send out a search party. A couple warriors were dispatched to track Ashenpaw’s scent, and when they came back, they announced he’d gone into RiverClan territory, probably heading for the Twoleg Place on ThunderClan grounds. Heartbroken that her brother had abandoned her, Sliverpaw became more introverted, and started getting upset more, as her brother had, and constantly snapped at those who teased her.
She trained hard during her apprenticehood, often sneaking off at night to train in the moors, but still was the last of her remaining siblings to be elevated to warrior status. This was because of her fighting abilities; she wasn’t doing too well in that area, though she was becoming an excellent hunter through her training period. It took her several moons after her sister’s ceremony to finally be promoted as well. This was mainly because bother her mentor and the leader at the time had observed her jump into the air, using her powerful hind legs, to snag a bird out of the air that had flown over the river from ThunderClan territory. Impressed, the leader finally elevated her to the warrior position, and gave her the name Sliverwing in honor of her catch on that day. It’s been a couple of moons since then, and Sliverwing is constantly training herself in combat, asking others in her Clan to help her when needed.
IC Example:Warm paws pressed into the ground, clean and perfect claws slipping into the dirt. Amber eyes scanned the rolling hills of the moors for a moment, before retiring from that activity, allowing furred alabaster lids to close over them, cutting of their sight. But they were no longer needed; the earth below told all that sight could have. There was a steady concentration as the hunter listened with her paws, feeling the vibrations emanating through the ground. She’d been out here for… hell, she’d lost track of time; and she’d be damned if she was going to leave without catching one thing. Her muscles were slowly tightening along her legs and shoulders, until her whole body had grown tense, and only then did she notice. With a sigh, she relaxed, her head dipping slightly. But it was then it was there, the sound, the movement she’d been waiting for. The pound of a small animal’s feet.
Her relaxing had done nothing; her muscles were tense again as her eyes flashed open, and she bounded off toward the feeling of the rabbit, hopping away over the hill. She spotted it quickly, its fluffy white tail bobbing up and down. Being as conspicuous, appearance-wise, as she was, she left nothing to stealth here. Instead, she relied upon her speed. Her haunches stiffening, her back legs pushed against the ground, giving her a burst of speed as she chased her prey. Her hind legs had always been a little tougher, a little stronger than the rest of her had. She’d never understood it, but she never really wanted to, either. Her mind did not linger on that now; she was gaining on her hunt.
It was three tail-lengths away now. She simply couldn’t wait any longer; her legs were starting to burn with the speed that had the wind tearing through her pelt and ruffling her fur. Preparing herself momentarily, she finally leaped at it, claws extended toward the rabbit. Her claws cut through its skin, but not deep enough to kill, only to slow down. The small mammal cried out, it’s voice unbearably high. But finally, she was on top of it, tackling it to the ground. It struggled beneath the mighty hunter, but to no avail; quickly, her sure jaws closed around its spine, jerking to the side, snapping it easily. The flailing died down to feeble twitches, of one who’d been conquered. The huntress let out a breath, pleasure across her expression. “Got you,” she purred, though the animal was far passed hearing her now. All that there was left to do was take it back to camp. She gently picked it up in her jaws, straightening herself upright again, and trotted back to camp, her cloud-white tail sticking up victoriously in the air.
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Who Are You? You can call me Sliver.
How Did You Find Us? Google.
Other Characters: None.
