Hello c:
Heather has a preset, which can be downloaded here:
http://www.mediafire.com/?qhav6a3ev9ran62Photo:
Characters name: Heatherstripe
Your Ingame user: Deino909
Gender: Female
Species: European Shorthair
Age: 28 moons
Rank: Warrior
Clan: BrightClan
Mate (Optional): None
Kits/Family: Divingbird (mother); Haretooth (father)
Personality: She's quiet, but not shy, and sports a reasonable amount of confidence in herself with a bit of a daredevil streak. Heatherstripe is inquisitive, and can often obsess herself with things.
History: Heatherstripe's story is rather mundane. She never was much of a troublemaker or an adventurer as a kit or an apprentice, although she became notorious for getting stuck on top of boulders during training--Heatherstripe is deathly afraid of heights, and one time she accidentally shoved her mentor into an enormous mud puddle in her first newleaf as an apprentice. The only horrible things to happen were her mother passing away from greencough one harsh leaf-bare, and her father running away out of grief the following moon.
Roleplay Sample:
It was almost too dark to be called sunset, though the hour was right. Heatherstripe fluffed out her short pelt against the chilly leaf-bare breeze, and cast a withering look at her two Clanmates behind her to hurry up with their scent-marking. It was too cold for a dusk patrol. Too
dark. Something didn't feel right... the crickets were not chirping.
Finally, her companions finished up and nodded curtly to continue. No cat felt like speaking, it was a waste of warm breath. Heatherstripe sighed and trudged along with her Clanmates over the dead, hollow grass. Two more markers to go, she told herself, just two more. She blinked rapidly against the chill as another cruel zephyr blew over them, and her companions flattened their ears in distaste. The wind, however, made Heatherstripe's nose twitch. Something was on the air...
"Wait, wait, wait," Heatherstripe stopped, holding up her tail. She sniffed the air again, just as the breeze changed. No other scent. Funny, it had almost smelled like...
"Cat!" Her burly ginger Clanmate beside her hissed under his breath. "Can't you smell it?" He snapped at his squash-faced friend. The ragged black tom blinked.
"No," he sneezed, rubbing at his pug-nose with a paw. Heatherstripe sighed. She padded a ways away, sniffing at the brakes of heather and gorse clumped around the marker. Sure, there was cat scent, all right.
BrightClan scent. She hissed and sucked in a breath of exasperation when out of nowhere it struck her again--a thick, heady reek of enemy cat.
And it was right in front of her nose.
Heatherstripe's eyes widened as she backed up rapidly, but not fast enough to avoid being bowled into by the four dark, spitting shapes that lunged out of the brake. As she hit the ground reeling and trying to swipe out with her paw at her assailant, she managed to yowl out,
"
AMBUSH!"
