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Post by Wolfheart on Jun 8, 2012 20:37:27 GMT -5
NAME Wolfheart
ALLEGIANCE ShadowClan
RANK Medicine Cat Apprentice
AGE 28 moons (2 yrs, 4 months)
GENDER Male
APPEARANCE
Wolfheart's appearance is the source of his namesake. Called Wolfkit at birth for the deep gray of his fur, his entire pelt is a solid slate color with a few exceptions here and there. The fur along his back has a dark ticking mark to the strands, giving his shoulders and flanks an almost saddle-like appearance; these same hair strands extend to his tail, where they almost blend into a black color as they near the tip. His paws are a little darker, too, if only because of the constant marshy landscape putting mud and grime between his paw pads. A dash of white underneath his chin is perhaps the only bright marking on him, and even then it's just a pale gray in comparison to the rest of his pelt. Thick to the touch, his pelt protects him well enough from cold weather and sheds profusely to prevent tortuous summer months. Underneath all that fur is a lean, sleek form, broad shoulders giving way with his male physique and sloping down gently into his spine and hips. His legs are a bit stocky, paws large enough to cover a well sized toad, but he's light on his feet; perfect for the stealth that ShadowClan prides itself on. However, he's crippled, his left foreleg done in with ripped muscles from his shoulder; the large scar still lingers, raised and raw against the bone in his shoulder. A strong jaw reveals his long canines that poke into his bottom lip, often showing themselves even when his words are at rest. His ears a slightly rounded at the top and soft, having an almost dog like quality to them in thickness. Wolfheart's name went into uncertainty when his eyes almost shifted into a green hue from his kitten blue, but throughout his apprenticeship, they melted into a deep amber color to match the animal within his name.
PERSONALITY
He's always been a quiet one from the start. Never one to wail or whine or even complain in a casual fashion, he was always one to take his duties as they were; even as an apprentice, though the eagerness was still there, just beneath the calm mask that he puts on. Wolfheart is a kind soul, gentle even, but most tend to overlook it when he gets snarky, ready to snap back at and joke with cats who know how to communicate in such a fashion. While he isn't a trickster or rebellious in any sort of fashion, he likes to jest and play with conversations, loves being able to hold a fun conversation with somebody who can snark right back. After his injury and confinement to non-warrior duties, his attitude soured a bit; quiet acceptance turned into grumbling complaints uttered to himself and carefully equipped words often became a barbed weapon. The kindness is still there. However, it takes effort to worm one's way into his heart and into his "favorites" rather than simply being a Clanmate or acquiantance.
HISTORY
A simple life. That's one that Wolfheart was born into. His parents were loving cats, kind souls in general, and amazing warriors (if you asked his opinion).
Wolfkit was born into the world without a sound, no mewling or wailing or anything. He was silent and the medicine cat thought that perhaps he was dead, until the tiny gray kitten sucked in a breath and mewed weakly. He was weak, but still alive. The black kit that became his brother was a stronger one, healthy as could be compared to his tiny brother.
Wolfkit and Blackkit grew up with their loving mother, Raventail, watching after them. Sometimes, when they played hide and seek, Blackkit would pull an unfair move and hide his black pelt against their mother's matching one; the darkness of the nursery aiding in his cleverness and Wolfkit would be at a total loss. The trick, it was said, never worked again once Wolfkit realized what intelligence his brother had.
They were both intelligent kits, best friends through the bond of kin that they shared. When they became apprentices, it was almost like they were meant to stay together just because their mentors were siblings as well. As they were named Wolfpaw and Blackpaw, Whitemoon and Mapletail were named as their mentors; a brother and sister pair that were as close as the newly made apprentices.
Wolfpaw's main strength was his power, the muscle that he prided himself on. When he fought with Blackpaw as kits, he would always end up on top as a testament to the potential of his warrior training. Whitemoon chattered enough to make up for his apprentice's quiet self, but taught well, and focused on Wolfpaw's strength. He taught him how to be nimble and not let his broader body be exploited by the enemy; for all those words were worth, Whitemoon helped with the nimble training, since he was a bit on the leaner side. The apprentice's biggest problem was always hunting, since his lumbering paws always got him tripped up or he misplaced his paw, alerting his prey ahead of schedule. But in time, he learned to soft his steps, learned how to use his larger paws to his advantage and extend his reach when he was hunting for the rare bird or bigger toads.
It wasn't long before he was made a warrior, Wolfheart for his gentle nature and softly colored pelt. He proved to be an excellent addition to the warrior ranks, always willing to go out and hunt for the Clan; but never near the carrionplace, where he knew there was a risk of death if he brought back the wrong rat. Instead, he focused on the birds, rodents, reptiles and amphibians that inhabited his marshy territory. His brother, Blackfeather, always joined him and persuaded him to try the carrionplace when they were about to come back empty "pawed" once. Leaf-fall was almost at its end and the cold blooded prey had hidden itself until newleaf, and Wolfheart and Blackfeather were coming up short. He let himself be swayed, if only because he wanted to get back home and feed their ill mother, sick with an ailing cough.
So they trekked the distance to the garbage dump, sniffing out their prey amongst the rotting dumps of filth. When Wolfheart thought he had caught his rat, squirming beneath his paws and shrieking, he was proved wrong. What was simply a hunting patrol turned into a fight for their lives as a small horde of rats raced to attack them; Blackfeather knew his fighting moves and was agile, able to dodge and swipe at the clawing rodents. Wolfheart wasn't so lucky in his endeavors.
Rats clung to his pelt as he swung his paws back and forth, batting them away and easily slicing their skin as he fought back. One of the larger ones, its teeth enough to scare off a warrior, embedded said teeth into his shoulder and held on with all its strength. Wolfheart could only thrash and fend off the other rats as that one held, and it took Blackfeather's aid to finally drive off the horde and kill the parasitic rodent on his shoulder. A good chunk of skin went missing and Wolfheart could hardly walk without yowling in pain, so Blackfeather had to support Wolfheart's shoulder as they made their way back to camp.
Silkleaf and Ivyscar worked their best on his wounded shoulder and tended to the rat bites across his body, but Silkleaf was the one who told him that he'd perhaps never work again as a warrior. His shoulder was too badly wounded, a mess of muscles missing from the bone and there weren't enough to support his leg for longer than a moment or two. Needless to say, Wolfheart was devastated. How was he supposed to be a help to his Clan now?
While he laid in the medicine cat den (and simply laid about) he took an interest in the herbs that the two medicine cats used; intrigued by the smells that assailed his nose all day and night. Silkleaf was willing to teach him some things, a concoction or two that the warrior could understand in a simple fashion. The elder's graying maw and tired joints perhaps alerted Wolfheart to what he was being taught, what he was being gently pushed toward, and he honestly didn't have a problem with it. His only objection came about because he was one of the best young hunters the Clan had, and he wouldn't be able to hunt as well anymore with his lame leg.
When Silkleaf retired to the elder's den and Ivyscar was left on her own, Wolfheart was deemed healthy enough to return to camp activities (whatever those were). Instead of being a worthless burden on the Clan, he begged and begged Ivyscar to become his mentor, despite the fact that he was older than her by a couple moons. When she relented and snapped back that yes, yes she would be his mentor now can you go back to being the nice, silent idiot that you were when you were injured?
And needless to say, here he is, still putting up with her sour attitude.
FAMILY
Deerleap.. Father... MIA
Raventail... Mother... Deceased
Blackfeather... Brother... Warrior
PLAYER Slick
ACCOUNTS (2) This, and Red
*How did you found out about us? Sorreh. :V
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