Post by !TiGER_ on Dec 17, 2008 19:30:04 GMT -5
Name
Brownpatch
Clan
ShadowClan
Position
Deputy
Gender
She-cat
Age
22 moons
Family
Whitetail - Brother
Mate
None but open
Description
One can easily tell that Brownpatch and Whitetail are related. Both are large Maine Coons and both have a creamy fur base color. Brownpatch, however, has (what else?) brown patches rather than ginger patches on her pelt. Her face, legs, and tail are brown, although her muzzle and a bit of her forehead are white. She doesn't worry too much about her looks, so her fur is a bit on the scrappy side. It's a bit shorter than her brother's, though.
The warrior has a pink nose but grayish paw pads; they were pink at birth but darkened as she walked more and the skin toughened up.
Image
Personality
Although deeply sarcastic at heart, Brownpatch always gives a friendly first impression. She gets cats to like her and then proceeds to manipulate them, mainly for her own benefit in small ways such as escaping a hunting patrol. Her ambition is not for a position in life that is inherently powerful but to obtain power without having to bother with rising through the clan ranks. She's very quick on the uptake and isn't easily fooled, although her laziness is evident in most situations. Her abilities in fighting and hunting are merely average. Brownpatch doesn't strive for success with her claws or teeth but with her tongue.
The only cat who she can truly sympathize with is her brother, Whitetail. They share a very close bond, especially because Brownpatch is the only one he acts even remotely rational around.
History
None of her history is notable apart from the necessary: birth, kithood, apprenticeship, and warriorhood. Brownpatch has yet to experience a turning point in her life. That means no astonishing revelations, no grueling battles, and nothing of any importance.
Example Of RPing
A cold wind blew across ShadowClan territory. It was leaf-bare and Brownpatch was alone, hunting near the twoleg path. However, there were no twolegs to be seen this time of year; they were all holed up in their nests. She saw a cardinal flitting between the branches of an evergreen and watched the bird for a moment before returning to her hunt. Her step was slow and perfectly cadenced. Nothing would be able to hear or smell her! In terms of tactics, she was unstoppable. Approach from downwind with a silent step. Keep your breathing shallow--not too shallow or you'll faint!--and don't make any sudden movements. Make sure your eyes and ears are attentive to everything--wait! What was that?
A squirrel was sitting on the path, digging for an acorn. Its back was to her and it seemed deeply engrossed in its retrieval of food. Brownpatch's upper lip curled into a sadistic smile and she slowly crept forward. When she was practically on top of her all-too-unintelligent prey, she pounced.
Ah, perfect! Right on the neck.
She didn't even have to bother with biting the critter. Simply stepping on it would do the trick. After all, she was at least three times the size of the squirrel! Nevertheless, she crumpled the back of its neck with her powerful jaws the way a compacter crushes a car. Brownpatch dropped the limp squirrel off to the side of the path and brushed a few fallen leaves over it. She'd come back for it later. Success, success.
Other
Speaks in beige.
Code word
Words are flying like endless rain into a paper cup.
Brownpatch
Clan
ShadowClan
Position
Deputy
Gender
She-cat
Age
22 moons
Family
Whitetail - Brother
Mate
None but open
Description
One can easily tell that Brownpatch and Whitetail are related. Both are large Maine Coons and both have a creamy fur base color. Brownpatch, however, has (what else?) brown patches rather than ginger patches on her pelt. Her face, legs, and tail are brown, although her muzzle and a bit of her forehead are white. She doesn't worry too much about her looks, so her fur is a bit on the scrappy side. It's a bit shorter than her brother's, though.
The warrior has a pink nose but grayish paw pads; they were pink at birth but darkened as she walked more and the skin toughened up.
Image
Personality
Although deeply sarcastic at heart, Brownpatch always gives a friendly first impression. She gets cats to like her and then proceeds to manipulate them, mainly for her own benefit in small ways such as escaping a hunting patrol. Her ambition is not for a position in life that is inherently powerful but to obtain power without having to bother with rising through the clan ranks. She's very quick on the uptake and isn't easily fooled, although her laziness is evident in most situations. Her abilities in fighting and hunting are merely average. Brownpatch doesn't strive for success with her claws or teeth but with her tongue.
The only cat who she can truly sympathize with is her brother, Whitetail. They share a very close bond, especially because Brownpatch is the only one he acts even remotely rational around.
History
None of her history is notable apart from the necessary: birth, kithood, apprenticeship, and warriorhood. Brownpatch has yet to experience a turning point in her life. That means no astonishing revelations, no grueling battles, and nothing of any importance.
Example Of RPing
A cold wind blew across ShadowClan territory. It was leaf-bare and Brownpatch was alone, hunting near the twoleg path. However, there were no twolegs to be seen this time of year; they were all holed up in their nests. She saw a cardinal flitting between the branches of an evergreen and watched the bird for a moment before returning to her hunt. Her step was slow and perfectly cadenced. Nothing would be able to hear or smell her! In terms of tactics, she was unstoppable. Approach from downwind with a silent step. Keep your breathing shallow--not too shallow or you'll faint!--and don't make any sudden movements. Make sure your eyes and ears are attentive to everything--wait! What was that?
A squirrel was sitting on the path, digging for an acorn. Its back was to her and it seemed deeply engrossed in its retrieval of food. Brownpatch's upper lip curled into a sadistic smile and she slowly crept forward. When she was practically on top of her all-too-unintelligent prey, she pounced.
Ah, perfect! Right on the neck.
She didn't even have to bother with biting the critter. Simply stepping on it would do the trick. After all, she was at least three times the size of the squirrel! Nevertheless, she crumpled the back of its neck with her powerful jaws the way a compacter crushes a car. Brownpatch dropped the limp squirrel off to the side of the path and brushed a few fallen leaves over it. She'd come back for it later. Success, success.
Other
Speaks in beige.
Code word
Words are flying like endless rain into a paper cup.
