SMOKEFUR - BOULDERCLAN

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Click here for a picture of her.
<---- Smokefur
She-Cat, 18 Moons

RANK: Warrior
ALLIANCE: BoulderClan
APPEARANCE: gray tabby she cat w/ black stripes & dark amber eyes

PERSONALITY:
Smokefur is usually distant and fairly reserved really. Most of the time, she avoids long periods of discussion and skirts around the territory in her free time alone. She loves conflict and a good fight whether it's a justified one or not. Smokefur tends to get riled up easily and will take no taunting towards herself or her clan; if you mess with BoulderClan, you're messing with her. But, really, she's not close to her clan anyways- she fights for it because its something she has, not because she feels real attachment. The thing she loves the most about her clan is the territory, not the cats. She's better at pushing away then letting anything near her heart, especially after her father's death.

One of her most interesting characteristics is her warped sense of humor. She finds darkness amusing and sharp-tongued wordplay is her past time. Smokefur gets annoyed easily by overly happy cats, pointless discussions, and meek or weak cats. Her greatest flaws are her pride and recklessness. She doesn't like anyone taunting her and will be drawn into a fight from it easily; also, she takes failure hard and always has the strange insecurity that she has to be the best. It is not uncommon for Smokefur to get in a bad situation because she is reckless enough to do almost anything upon dare; of course, she has no interest in dying... she just doesn't give herself an option of failure, which can blind her from danger.

REASON FOR NAME:
prefix= smoke for the color of her fur
suffix= fur for the color of her fur

FAMILY: n/a

HISTORY:

Kithood: Smokekit was the only kit of her parent's litter. Both of her parents were BoulderClan warriors, but her mother and father were never very close. Her father was a well-respected senior warrior and her mother was a young one when she joined the nursery, pregnant. Smokekit was the only litter between the two but her mother had another litter with another male soon around the time she became an apprentice. While Smokekit never bonded with her mother, she got along quite well with her father. The main reason she never got along with her mother was that her mother never wanted kits with her father; it'd been kind of a fling. She was a terrible mother too and Smokekit was more raised by the other queens and her father than anyone. Smokekit tended to be a bizarre kit; she didn't interact much with the other kits and didn't talk much to the queens, who loved her anyways. She avoided getting close to anyone, being born with a careful heart. Her father took her out on excursions through BoulderClan territory with hopes that his daughter would become a great warrior like him. He even taught her how to hunt a little and fight.

Smokekit became an apprentice after six moons, getting a tough mentor who gave her little quarter. She didn't mind the extra work; she pushed herself even harder with the hopes of making her father proud and, more realistically, making her mother recognize her existence. From young age, she never understood why her mother never spent any time with her and was hurt by the fact. Smokepaw received high praise for her extra work but it made her peers look down upon her; they thought she was strange. In her free time, she would go out into the forest with her father to get a few tips from him or hike through the territory, taking a walk.

Smokepaw acquired her warrior name, Smokefur. Personally, she felt the name was a little bland but was very happy she finally became a warrior. Now, as a warrior, she had a lot more free time, which she spent out in the territory or with her father. Two moons into her warriorship, her father got in a terrible border fight with another clan and was killed. Horrified, Smokefur couldn't deal with the pain of her father's death and felt alone for the first time in her life. Of course, she'd always been known as a loner in the clan but at least she'd had her father. Now, he was gone. He had left her in a clan filled with strangers that housed a mother that didn't even care for her, but loved her other kits. It took a long time for Smokefur to recover; most nights, she didn't get any sleep and would pace under the moonlight, struggling with her beliefs. How could someone like her father die? He had been a hard-working, strong warrior with plenty of life in him. From her father's death, she began to look at life a little differently- she saw death as a failure or a sign of giving up. She decided that she would use every breath in her body to fight and be someone. Her clan, while she had little ties to its cats due to her heavily guarded heart, was everything- it was her home and her future.

RP EXAMPLE:

Pale yellow light filtered into the warriors den, warming the sprawled cat's fur with its soft rays. Singeclaw's slitted eyes opened, examining the morning sky. Hues of pink, purple, and orange streaked across the blue sky and the sun was a ball of radiant light. She pushed herself to her feet, sweeping the bits of moss from her pelt with her tail. A zephyr stirred against her fur, causing ripples across her flanks. Nice day, Singeclaw thought to herself with mild amusement. But since when did I care? While an exaggerated sigh, she walked from the warriors den in a devilish mood. She felt like stirring up a little trouble, even though her limbs were still a little sleep-laden. Singeclaw caught sight of the first cat on the ground, Emberclaw, a long furred ginger tom with amber eyes, who had stretched himself across the ground to take in the good weather. It was the first day of the moon that it truly felt like newleaf since the whole past week it had been raining. In fact, even now she was getting her paws dirty on the soft brown soil. Snorting with impatience, she casually strolled up to Emberclaw.
"Already slacking on duty and it isn't even sunhigh?" She spoke mockingly, tail lashing the air like a whip. "I feel like I'm growing old just being around you."
"Growing old?" Emberclaw called, rolling on his back so he looked comical. "Compared to me, you're already an elder. After all, the way you complain about practically everything can't be good for your health."
"Very funny," Singeclaw meowed, even though she didn't find it funny at all. Usually, cats didn't have a comeback for her taunts. "But I think the likelihood of you running over the territory borders and getting jumped by an unfriendly warrior is higher than me becoming old. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, I won't ever be old enough to be an elder."
"Ah,"Emberclaw meowed, amber eyes closing. "I'll remember that when I have to lug around your old body to the prey pile everyday."
"Hmph." Singeclaw snorted, giving a petulant shake of her head. "Maybe if I don't finish you off before then." Her head rose proudly as she sauntered away to the entrance with the intention of getting some early hunting time alone.
"I'll take you up on that offer!" Emberclaw howled behind her, still lying on the ground. Even though they were fighting words, she didn't take the bait. Her pride had already been trampled on enough in the past discussion. Hmph, I'll never grow old, Singeclaw thought to herself, bristling a little at the idea of having slow moving muscles.




PASSWORD: [admin edit]

[' Swifty ?!]

Accepted.