Post by KIPPER. on Mar 28, 2011 14:21:48 GMT -6
<---- HAWKCLAW
male, 78 moons.
RANK: Warrior.
ALLIANCE: GoldenClan.
APPEARANCE: dark-brown tabby with green eyes.
PERSONALITY:
For the most part Hawclaw can be seen as a gruff, buff and tough tom with next to no interest in anything outside territorial boundaries. Though he is well accustomed to Clan politics and life he prefers to be the brunt of the operation rather than the brain leaving that part to his son to deal with. He is ill-tempered, stubborn and crude at the best of times but refuses to lay down with the elders despite suggestions that he should retire. If asked this he would chuckle darkly and say something sarcastic like ‘I’ll retire with StarClan’ or ‘I’d love to but who would keep you sheep in check?’ but apart from that he is rather down about retiring when he feels that somewhere in the Clan he is helping his son achieve his goals and live a good life. He’s not the overly-affectionate type and will rarely open his mouth to do anything but correct of criticize you related to him or not. He is not everyone’s friend but amongst the Clan he is respected if anything else but avoided if you can help it.
Hobbies outside the usual hunting, patrolling, sleeping and snuggles with his mate include sparring and shadowing his ‘kits’ despite them being old enough to deal with things himself. He is incredibly proud of his young but has been bitter far too long to change now, especially when EagleStar was made Leader and it’s hardly like he can go give the Leader a quick nuzzle when he does something good though he’s well-ware that the young tom would love the chance to see his father’s approval. He is still quite racist against the other clans and is constantly scorned by his mate for muttering under his breath but he takes her scolding now all with good humour. He is an extremely bad loser and loves winning (Epic winning) through honest tactics. He is extremely against the under-handed warriors that used less honourable means to achieve their goals however effective they are making him quite the traditionalist.
Age has fared him well though… but it seems generation after generation watching kits grow from tiny newborns into full fledged warriors both stronger and swifter than he is gives him a thirst to improve himself. In the past having trained sex apprentices he is sure that his seventh will be the best tribute to the Clan he can offer before he considers himself for a place amongst StarClans ranks. To sum it up he refuses to have a quiet retirement while there is still something to do amongst the Ranks. He is honourable, just, loving, strict and above all - a proud father.
REASON FOR NAME:
hawk For his keen-eyesight and sharp expression.
claw To those unfortunate enough to encounter his fearsome 'weapons' will know why.
FAMILY:
adderfang, 52 moons old, son.
eaglestar 52 moons old, son.hazelkitdeceased, daughter.
emberstripe 76 moons, mate.
HISTORY:Early Life and Apprenticeship.
Born on GoldenClan he was raised in the values that only those born of GoldenClan could ever be true Warriors here. That fierce pride and his brute strength was enough to see him from a young fearless kit into a sharp young apprentice named ‘Hawkpaw’. Hawkpaw was set under the guidance of a great silver tom named Barbfoot who showed him the ropes and instilled in him the meaning of the code. Barbfoot was wise and taught him many things but his ideals differed greatly from those of Hawkpaw and as he grew he became quite sick of Barbfoot’s constant blabbering about Clan peaceful affairs to the point of resenting him - but his respect for the Warrior kept him coming back. Several moons after his naming ceremony he was faced with his first challenge - the Clan kits had been struck down with green cough and he was sent to go get herbs to aid them. Barbfoot was on patrol at this point so he didn’t bother asking him and sent him out on his own. His teacher had taught him of the boundaries as the first part of his lesson and he knew better than to invade onto that of their close neighbours but failing to find what he needed close to home he strayed out over the borders onto BrookClan territory where he came across a fierce patrol. As it turned out, they too had been struck down with the cough and didn’t take too lightly to an intruder stealing their supplies so they enclosed on him. One mere apprentice was no match for six full grown warriors but times were hard and they came down even harder. Had it not been for the smooth-talking Barbfoot he would not have left with only a bruised body and a broken pride. This was the first time he faced the ‘brutality’ of the rival Clans.Warrior
In time he was granted the right to become a Warrior. As was tradition, the Leader granted him his name ‘HawkClaw’ and he went on to become a strong Warrior but his resentment for other Clans still burned deep within him. The rest of his Clan were happy and content with the way things were and though there was no conflict to be had they had many fine warriors that would never see the light of battle. With his sharp eyes and ruthlessness he grew a reputation for being fearless and violent towards any trespasser on their land regardless of their cause and was more often that not put on patrol to save the rest of the Clan bearing his ill-humour - that and the fact that he did his job damn well and stopped many intruders from stepping of their soft life. It was on such a patrol that he met a young orange queen. To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t up to much but it seemed she was alone and hungry - ready to shoo her from the area she looked up at him with the fiercest amber eyes. Though her body was frail the unmistakeable look of true warrior passion burned within him and he hesitated and in that moment of hesitation she lurched for him and caught him completely off-guard. The fur went flying and in the end she succumbed to her weakness and collapsed… she wasn’t moving when he approached her but he could see the slow rising and falling of her chest. In a moments whim he scuffed her and carried her the way back to the camp and came across some unexpected opposition.
With his loyalty points in check he fought for the queens rights and vowed to care for him herself if nobody cared to do so. The Clan gave their reluctant agreement if he was to bring her food himself from outside the borders (why waste their own food during leaf-bare?) and cared for her in between his regular duties. It was hard but after a moon she lifted her head and started speaking. Apparently she was of the BookClan Warriors and they had fallen on hard times with the Brook freezing over completely - she was desperate to get some food and crossed the border like he had done so long ago. After a while she was well and healthy again but the two of them had become closer than he had been to any of his Clan and they declared shared every intimate moment. When she passed over to BrookClan once more she promised to return in the warmer weather to be with him. She proved her worth to the Clan in many ways and eventually was blessed with a place amongst the Warriors of the Golden Clan - on the basis that she would never go back to the BrookClan again even in dire times. Later that season she gave birth to three kits - two males and a female.
Hawkclaw was delighted and tended to his dearest every whim despite her little taunts about him going soft. Of all his kits, he much preferred the little Hazelkit even though he didn’t admit it out loud. Her personality and her little squeak was enough to make thunder errupt from his chest with pride. Of course his boys were something to be proud of too, both excelling in their own way but being boys he couldn’t help but criticize them as they were his legacy after all. Things started to go downhill after another bout of green cough broke out and little Hazelkit fell ill. It may have seemed heartless at the time but he kept his other kittens away from their ill sister despite her pleas to see them but he couldn’t risk another of his babies getting ill - especially if she could see them when they were better… or so he hoped. Her weak body took its last breath in the company of its mother and father… reminding him of the moment he saved his mate and fell in love with her. It was a cruel fate and one he couldn’t get over so instead he just pressed on with his job leaving his other kits without explanation to their sister’s disappearance. Determined that they would never suffer as she had suffered he focused all his energy on improving the Clan and guarding it against intruders that might carry the disease - even if it meant ignoring his surviving kits.
RP EXAMPLE:
The night had weighed greatly on him. With each steady breeze a drift of air heavily laden with the scent of other dogs that were not his own brought possible disasters for this young pack. Even as the number of canines in the area had boomed over the last few years it was always going to come down to the top dog in each of the rightful provinces and each Alpha had the threat of an attack from another pack looming over them like a terminal illness - either you fight it until the end or lose it altogether. He feared for his young Alpha. She was brave, wise and strong and had more noble qualities than he had seen in his lifetime yet she was young and physical strength often overpowered even the greatest of minds like this night for example - the loners were closing in. Being the brawn of the pack he was expected to keep watch as well as give the Alpha the right guidance but lately it was proving difficult to do it at the same time. The warriors were brave but restless as the neutral alliance didn’t shift as often as they liked. What they didn’t understand was that this fight was not one of territory but a fight for ones survival.
By the time he was within pack borders his paws were throbbing with the constant bleeding as even with feet hardened from a life on the streets they had become much more accustomed to the soft ground around the Ophir terrain than that of the harsh tarmac and woods of the outskirts. He would not complain. The sun was quickly rising coating his home with a soft ember glow, welcoming him into its paws and towards the soft nuzzling and companionship his pack had to offer - not something he was quite used to yet as his life before with the brutal Tirzo pack who’s only interest in him was to bring the blood back to their hungry maws at the end of the day. At roughly the size of a small Great Dane he was not somebody that could easily be missed at even a distance with his long legs and soft tan and black coat muddied by his travels many packs assumed him to be of the lesser role of Warrior… which was fine by him, recognizing his pack status brought him more trouble than anything else and at least if he was a warrior then they would expect him to be hardier and more brutal than a humble Beta.
The large brute fumbled awkwardly down a slope pausing momentarily to sniff and mark a small vine that had become polluted by the scent of fox then carried on hi way. The territory was not a huge one but it would be darn near impossible to cross from one end of the territory to the next in daylight which made it all the more urgent that he got himself to the headquarters as quickly as possible to report then lie down for some well-earned slumber. At the bottom of the slope he came to an abrupt halt as the hand straightened out and water lapped at the sandy beach at his paws. He growled in annoyance at the sharp grains scratching at his feet and taunting his wounds but the sound of the soft rippling lake soothed his annoyance a little as he dropped his muzzle to the floor and sniffed. All he could really smell here was algae and freshwater but in the distance there was the distinct scent of a friend of his. Without a further moment of hesitation his long legs carried him swiftly towards the boathouse where he was unseen by the glowing femora.
Maverick was a beautiful creature to behold on any day however the lush dawn accented her beauty further even to go as far as calling her breathtaking. Her soft amber coat shone healthily like the sun itself, her thoughtful stance gave her years of knowledge and understanding despite her age and the light arch of her back proved to any insightful eye that she was lean and quick on her feet. Even at nearly half of his size, she seemed to tower over him in this light. His paws made not a sound against the sand as he approached, regretful that he would intrude her thoughts but privileged to see her in this light. A low gruff escaped him to alert her of his arrival and lowering his head but keeping his tail straight he recognized his superior but reached out his muzzle in greeting, hoping for a nuzzle or a lick to recognize him as a friend.
“Aye, you scrub up good in this light Miss. Thinking of anything’ in particular?” He asked offering her a smile.
PASSWORD: [admin edit]
