In-Game username: Popkat
Character name (OPTIONAL): Hazelfrost
Clan (OPTIONAL): WindClan
Gender (OPTIONAL): She-cat
Rank(OPTIONAL): Warrior
A little bit of info about your character, appearance/personality/backstory (Super optional):
Appearance:
-smaller, lean, Burmese cat mix
-short, thick, soft pelt (she sheds a lot c:)
-long whiskers
-cold, blue-hazel eyes
-Fit, athletic, but her fur hides her muscles
Personality:
| Quiet | Soft-spoken | Patient | Cold-hearted | Stubborn | Melodic | Stand-offish | Nervous | Perceptive | Observant | Broken |
Backstory:
Hazelfrost was born into a tribe during the end of a harsh leaf-bare. Her original name being Frost of Storm, the young she-cat was the last living kit in her litter of four. After the deaths of her three brothers - Talon of Ice, Eye of Wolf, and Leaf of Birch - Hazelfrost was constantly scolded and frowned upon for "not saving her kin". Being the youngest and malnourished, Frost of Storm ran away from her tribe at 4 moons of age. She was nothing but fur and bones, and her heavy pelt was dull and dirty as she traveled through rocky mountains with nothing but her instincts and the little common sense she had.
Finally the horrid leaf-bare was over and the living skeleton of the former tribe cat could finally find prey to catch... in a two-leg garden. During moon-high one new-leaf, the now 8 moon she-cat was quietly creeping through a two-leg garden when a large, black tom-cat jumped and landed in front of her. In shock, Frost of Storm jumped back, her guard hairs rising on end. Taking a step forward, the large black tom-cat looked down upon the emaciated Burmese mix, his deep blue eyes were kind but curious. "And are you one of those forest cat?" He mewed, his deep vocals seemed to carry with the soft breeze. Frost of Storm lifted a brow and mewed in reply, "Um, well. What do you mean by 'forest' cat...?" She glanced left and right, now seeing a place to run and hide from the much larger tom. The larger, black tom chuckled lightly, "You must be lost. Come," he purred turning and flicking his white tipped tail, "my brother is going to freak if I do not return soon." As the larger black quietly padded off, Frost of Storm would cautiously rise to her petite paws, and make her way behind the unknown tom. A kind, strange presence filled the atmosphere around him. A wonderful feeling, the Frost of Storm had felt very little of, and was even unsure if it truly existed or not. / "Who are these cats...?" \ She wondered, her lost mind and frail frame quietly following a shadow-pelted stranger.
[I will post more later if I am accepted, just feeling too lazy type her entire backstory in RP form right now. c:]
Roleplay sample:
Her petite, fragile paws seemed to barely touch the frozen earth as she raced through the deepening snow. The cold, white crystals beat upon her small head as the young Burmese mix flattened her ears to keep them from hurting more than they did. Leaping onto a fallen spruce tree, Frost of Storm would lung forward, her dulled claws unsheathed as she would then latch onto a cold, stone ledge. Her grip started to slip as she would kick out her hurting hind legs to try and find something to stabilize her weak bodice. Finally finding a tree root to put her hind paw on, the young she-cat would pull herself up onto the stone ledge. Weakly lifting her frail head, the young she-cat's dull blue and hazel mosaiced gaze would fall upon a small opening in the rocky ledge. Galloping toward the small opening, Frost of Storm would crawl through the crack, her delicate underbelly sliding across the frozen stones. The boney Burmese mix was shivering badly and chilled through when she made it into the small cave. The wind was not not cutting through her anymore, but the ghostly howling echoed through the disturbingly still cave. Though the opening in the cliffside was cold, it was not like the frozen earth that had been beneath her paws, or the snow crystals like tiny bullets, chilling her from inside out. Frost of Storm curled up against the cave side and tucked her numb, frosted nose into her thick, dull fur. Warm tears ran down the numbed, cold cheeks of the young she-cat as she missed the warmth of her brothers whom had passed on a few moons earlier. As the few tears gently rolled down the now damp cheeks from the melted snow, Frost of Storm slowly began to fall into a peaceful sleep; the first she had had in so long.
