Post by m!chelle--✗ on Jun 8, 2008 15:10:11 GMT -5
Name: Runningsong
Age: 23 moons
Gender: She-cat
Rank: ThunderClan Medicine Cat
History:
Runningsong was born a loner, and was the only one of her litter to survive. Her mother was very weak after giving birth, and unable to hunt for herself. The father had been a passing rogue, and left before he even knew his short-term lover was to have kits.
Runningsong’s mother took her to an abandoned Nofur’s nest, claiming that the cats there would help them. But she was very wrong, and the mistake cost her her life. At the claws of the unmerciful rogue cats, on the edge of death, the queen begged that they at least spare her only kit. Runningsong, called Song at the time, just cowered in the shadows and watched helplessly as her mother was murdered.
But the when the rogues came for her, one of them saw something there, in her eyes. A fierceness, fueled by grief for her mother, and a will to live. They saw in her the potential for a great fighter, and so they consented to her mother’s wishes, and kept her alive. They trained Song to fight, and she was a formidable opponent in battle, but she was always reluctant, and sometimes hesitated when she saw the look of pain in her enemy’s eyes, the fear when she lifted her paw for the death blow. It broke the young she-cat’s heart, all the killing and blood-shed. Something told her- maybe something bigger than just her conscience- that there was a better way to live, a way without so much blood and greed and hate.
With that realization, she decided to leave the only world she had ever known, the place where her mother had died, and where she had been turned into a killing machine. She wandered for a long time, coming across peaceful little groups of cats from time to time, but never staying long in one place. She knew that they were happy, but she could not be until she found what she was seeking, even though she didn’t know what it was yet.
That was when the dreams started coming. Dreams of large groups of cats- Clans, living together in a peaceful forest, far away from the bloody past she had known. Her searching became more vigilant, and at last she stumbled into ThunderClan territory.
The first can she met there was an elderly tom called Rowanslash. He told her that he was a healer of sorts, and cared for the whole of ThunderClan, with the guidance of StarClan. Song could hardly believe her ears. This must be it! The thing she had been searching for, the thing she was meant to do. She eagerly went with Rowanslash, and he introduced her to Clan life. She took the name Runningpaw, and became a medicine cat apprentice.
She came to know what had sent her the prophetic dreams, and her faith in StarClan grew very strong. She let them guide her through her apprenticeship, and finally was honored with the position of medicine cat for her Clan. She was pleased with the fact that although she still saw pain and suffering, now she could do something about it. Her life’s purpose was realized, and now all she had to do was fulfill it.
Short Desc:
Small tortoiseshell she-cat with bright green eyes.
Desc:
Runningsong is rather small for her age, barely larger than a newly-made apprentice. Her body is lithe and agile, and her lack of sheer mass is made up for in swiftness.
Her short pelt is sleek and always well-groomed, dappled with tortiosehsell blacks, browns, and yellows. Her paws are all black, as is the tip of her tail. A stripe of black cuts through the brown on her forhead, a vertical slash down the middle of her face.
Her eyes are a startling bright green, the color of new leaves in new-leaf. They are always calm, thoughtful, considering, as if she sees things from a different view than any other cat. This gives her a mysterious, almost mischievous look, along with the faintly amused smile she usually wears.
Personality:
For the most part, Runningsong is a very cheerful cat, always trying to be optimistic, and always smiling. She has learned to be grateful for what she has, and urges other cats not to dwell on the bad things, but instead see how many more good things there are to outweigh the bad. This attitude toward life shines through in her work, as she comforts injured and sick cats and tries her best to help them. She also realizes that her herbs can only do so much, and that the cat must have a strong will to get well, and faith in StarClan, to actually heal. She thinks that her job is just to help them along, and encourage them to believe in themselves. Runningsong is very serious about her job, and is always worried that she isn’t living up to her Clan’s expectations. But she tries her best to do what she can, and no cat could work harder.
When she is with cats she knows, she can be quite the joker, always laughing and being silly. She loves to laugh, and to makes others laugh. It’s as if her purpose in life is to give others a better outlook on the world. But there is a serious side to her as well, and sometimes she’ll get very quiet and thoughtful, and at these times it usually pays off to listen to her when she has something to say.
Extras:
Her name, Runningsong, was given to her to remind her of her past- but not in a bad way. She never forgets why she loves what she does, and having a bit of her history in her name only strengthens her resolve, and her belief in StarClan.
RP Example:
Soft pawsteps signaled the movement of a small she-cat. Her dappled pelt was hardly visible through the ferns, matching the brown earth beneath her black paws, and the tree trunks and foliage surrounding her. Even her eyes blended in, a bright shade of green, shining with laughter, as if she were about to burst out into giggles. A faint smile traced her maw, which was stuffed full of freshly picked herbs. How could she not be happy, on a such a fine day as this one? Birds twittered in the full green branches above her, and sunlight peeked through the treeleaves, shining down from a bright blue sky that held hardly a scrap of cloud. She paused to draw in a breath of the crisp, cool breeze that shifted past her, ruffling her sleek pelt. The medicine cat’s smile vanished when an acrid scent drifted across her glands. Blood, and a lot of it. Still fresh. Dread sent an icy chill down her spine, and she whirled around, forcing her way through the undergrowth toward the scent. Soon she found the source of it, and for a moment her head swam with confusion as she smelled RiverClan as well. Then she focused on the pair of cats in front of her, and her heart gave a lurch.
Two young cats, barely old enough to be apprentices, were crouched on a patch of crimson-stained earth. Their pelts were soaked with so much blood it was impossible to tell the colors of their pelts, but their matching blue eyes staring up at her, wide with fear and pain. Runningsong’s mouth fell open, and the herbs tumbled to the ground. “Please,” croaked one of the RiverClan kits. “Help us.”
Age: 23 moons
Gender: She-cat
Rank: ThunderClan Medicine Cat
History:
Runningsong was born a loner, and was the only one of her litter to survive. Her mother was very weak after giving birth, and unable to hunt for herself. The father had been a passing rogue, and left before he even knew his short-term lover was to have kits.
Runningsong’s mother took her to an abandoned Nofur’s nest, claiming that the cats there would help them. But she was very wrong, and the mistake cost her her life. At the claws of the unmerciful rogue cats, on the edge of death, the queen begged that they at least spare her only kit. Runningsong, called Song at the time, just cowered in the shadows and watched helplessly as her mother was murdered.
But the when the rogues came for her, one of them saw something there, in her eyes. A fierceness, fueled by grief for her mother, and a will to live. They saw in her the potential for a great fighter, and so they consented to her mother’s wishes, and kept her alive. They trained Song to fight, and she was a formidable opponent in battle, but she was always reluctant, and sometimes hesitated when she saw the look of pain in her enemy’s eyes, the fear when she lifted her paw for the death blow. It broke the young she-cat’s heart, all the killing and blood-shed. Something told her- maybe something bigger than just her conscience- that there was a better way to live, a way without so much blood and greed and hate.
With that realization, she decided to leave the only world she had ever known, the place where her mother had died, and where she had been turned into a killing machine. She wandered for a long time, coming across peaceful little groups of cats from time to time, but never staying long in one place. She knew that they were happy, but she could not be until she found what she was seeking, even though she didn’t know what it was yet.
That was when the dreams started coming. Dreams of large groups of cats- Clans, living together in a peaceful forest, far away from the bloody past she had known. Her searching became more vigilant, and at last she stumbled into ThunderClan territory.
The first can she met there was an elderly tom called Rowanslash. He told her that he was a healer of sorts, and cared for the whole of ThunderClan, with the guidance of StarClan. Song could hardly believe her ears. This must be it! The thing she had been searching for, the thing she was meant to do. She eagerly went with Rowanslash, and he introduced her to Clan life. She took the name Runningpaw, and became a medicine cat apprentice.
She came to know what had sent her the prophetic dreams, and her faith in StarClan grew very strong. She let them guide her through her apprenticeship, and finally was honored with the position of medicine cat for her Clan. She was pleased with the fact that although she still saw pain and suffering, now she could do something about it. Her life’s purpose was realized, and now all she had to do was fulfill it.
Short Desc:
Small tortoiseshell she-cat with bright green eyes.
Desc:
Runningsong is rather small for her age, barely larger than a newly-made apprentice. Her body is lithe and agile, and her lack of sheer mass is made up for in swiftness.
Her short pelt is sleek and always well-groomed, dappled with tortiosehsell blacks, browns, and yellows. Her paws are all black, as is the tip of her tail. A stripe of black cuts through the brown on her forhead, a vertical slash down the middle of her face.
Her eyes are a startling bright green, the color of new leaves in new-leaf. They are always calm, thoughtful, considering, as if she sees things from a different view than any other cat. This gives her a mysterious, almost mischievous look, along with the faintly amused smile she usually wears.
Personality:
For the most part, Runningsong is a very cheerful cat, always trying to be optimistic, and always smiling. She has learned to be grateful for what she has, and urges other cats not to dwell on the bad things, but instead see how many more good things there are to outweigh the bad. This attitude toward life shines through in her work, as she comforts injured and sick cats and tries her best to help them. She also realizes that her herbs can only do so much, and that the cat must have a strong will to get well, and faith in StarClan, to actually heal. She thinks that her job is just to help them along, and encourage them to believe in themselves. Runningsong is very serious about her job, and is always worried that she isn’t living up to her Clan’s expectations. But she tries her best to do what she can, and no cat could work harder.
When she is with cats she knows, she can be quite the joker, always laughing and being silly. She loves to laugh, and to makes others laugh. It’s as if her purpose in life is to give others a better outlook on the world. But there is a serious side to her as well, and sometimes she’ll get very quiet and thoughtful, and at these times it usually pays off to listen to her when she has something to say.
Extras:
Her name, Runningsong, was given to her to remind her of her past- but not in a bad way. She never forgets why she loves what she does, and having a bit of her history in her name only strengthens her resolve, and her belief in StarClan.
RP Example:
Soft pawsteps signaled the movement of a small she-cat. Her dappled pelt was hardly visible through the ferns, matching the brown earth beneath her black paws, and the tree trunks and foliage surrounding her. Even her eyes blended in, a bright shade of green, shining with laughter, as if she were about to burst out into giggles. A faint smile traced her maw, which was stuffed full of freshly picked herbs. How could she not be happy, on a such a fine day as this one? Birds twittered in the full green branches above her, and sunlight peeked through the treeleaves, shining down from a bright blue sky that held hardly a scrap of cloud. She paused to draw in a breath of the crisp, cool breeze that shifted past her, ruffling her sleek pelt. The medicine cat’s smile vanished when an acrid scent drifted across her glands. Blood, and a lot of it. Still fresh. Dread sent an icy chill down her spine, and she whirled around, forcing her way through the undergrowth toward the scent. Soon she found the source of it, and for a moment her head swam with confusion as she smelled RiverClan as well. Then she focused on the pair of cats in front of her, and her heart gave a lurch.
Two young cats, barely old enough to be apprentices, were crouched on a patch of crimson-stained earth. Their pelts were soaked with so much blood it was impossible to tell the colors of their pelts, but their matching blue eyes staring up at her, wide with fear and pain. Runningsong’s mouth fell open, and the herbs tumbled to the ground. “Please,” croaked one of the RiverClan kits. “Help us.”