Post by Crookedwing on Jun 8, 2017 18:03:30 GMT -5
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[attr="class","WindClanName"]
Crookedwing
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[PTab=Tab2]APPEARANCE - Crookedwing is a very plain cat, average, and easily overlooked. Her coat is a dusty brown, cut through with darker tabby striping. This is offset with bright white areas stretching from her jaw to her chest, and white tipped toes on her forepaws. Her face lacks the elegance some carry, lacking any sort of sharp, defined features, and instead being graces with a rather round face. Her muzzle, while not flat like some kittypets, is short and small, She is relatively standard sized for WindClan female, fairly petite with an extraordinarily long tail and similarly long legs. Like most cats of her clan, she is built for speed, to race across the moorlands in search of the prey of choice: rabbits.
Fate did not shine kindly on Crookedwing however, as despite that WindClan build, she is by far not a very fast cat. See, while plain overall, not an ugly cat, but far from beautiful, and not warranting any second glances among her clan, new cats do spare a second glance. Her spine, between her shoulder blades, twisted suddenly and briefly to an awkward angle before continuing down her back, giving her left shoulder a slight hitch, and causing her to favor it with a severe limp as it is difficult to place both front paws on the ground due to the uneven nature of her posture.
PERSONALITY - Crookedwing's disability has always brought her down. On the outside, she is absolutely one of the most bubbly cats you'd ever want to know. She has the sort of personality of someone you'd want to be close with, to hold near and dear. She lives to please others, taking on all the clan chores that no one else wants to do, and she does it with a (metaphorical) spring in her step. However, this stems from a dark place deep inside her, one she tries to smother every single time it wells up, one she refuses to acknowledge. She feels like a burden to her clan, she knows she's an utter disappointment and will never truly be useful, as anything she can do, someone else could likely do much better.
She does typically hide it well though, underneath a happy, yet quiet, facade. One of her few pleasures in life however is simply blending. See, when you put up the front of nothing but happy go lucky cat, you busy yourself constantly around clan life, when no one notices you, or deems you important, cats talk. A lot.
And this frequently overlooked she-cat sees a lot too. This means that, while she never brings it up in conversation- few cats converse with her as it is, she knows a lot about everone and everything, on the collective clan, than most of the individuals know themselves. She knows how her mother likely found love outside of the clans when she produced four kits. She knows how Runningleap frequently likes to eat to his fill before he brings prey back to the clan.
Crookedwing is however very, very intelligent. Unable to do much, she absorbs as much as she can, like a dry sponge, and retains it well. She is a talented strategist, though few would ever listen to a cat who has never really seen proper battle. Despite everything however, despite being the first to likely know dark secrets and distressing facts, despite her deformity making her feel like the ultimate burden on her clan, she has a positive outlook on life- perhaps not her own, but she feels WindClan's power, and has supreme pride in WindClan, even if she doesn't feel like she should be allowed to be a part of it.
Secretly, she hates being a warrior, as she always knew that she would never achieve what some could, and much would have preferred being a medicine cat, where perhaps she could have been useful. She's not truly close to any cat in particular, her brother's stopped being especially nice and loving towards her when it cost them popularity as apprentices. Regardless of this, she still loves them dearly, and she understands. She's always wanted a mate and kits, though she's long resigned herself that no one would want her, and that kits would be a bad idea for a cat that may have issues that could be genetically passed along. This does not, however, stop her from admiring handsome toms from afar, including a stone-cold leader who she knows she has absolutely zero chance with...
FAMILY - Mother:Heatherpool, Deceased
Father: Unknown, but likely not a clan cat
Siblings: Gorsefur- Tom
Runningleap- Tom
Rabbitpaw- Tom, Deceased
HISTORY - When Heatherpool gave birth, the clan did not question her on the sire, assuming they may know soon enough, or perhaps she would eventually relent. She would not, and would equally ignore the rare, quiet murmurs from cat's wondering if perhaps they were half-clan, but a sharp look and low hiss from the strict, strong warrior silenced them for the most part. She could not however stop the commotion when the medicine cat mentioned that one of the kits was... off. She was named Crookedkit due to her deformed spine, and the medicine cat warned that she may not make it, or she may never walk, much was uncertain at the time, so Heatherpool doted on her three healthy toms, and begrudgingly, Crookedkit. Crookedkit did not die however, and much to Heatherpool's pleasure, could walk, though not all too well.
Despite her initial disdain, Heatherpool did truly love all of her kits, though she expressed concern to their leader about Crookedkit's ability to become an warrior apprentice. Crookedkit never did truly find out what cruel series of events would leave Sootpaw to become the medicine cat's apprentice instead of her, however, and around the same time, Crookedkit became Crookedpaw, and was given to Brooksong. The clan scoffed and seemed a little riled. What was their leader thinking, letting such a blatantly lame cat have a shot at being a warrior? No one was as shocked and confused as Crookedkit however. She had already learned by that tender age of six moons that she was abnormal, and would never be normal. Regardless, she held her head as high as possible, and along with her brothers, hobbled to her mentor and greeted her as an apprentice.
The next dozen moons would be absolutely hectic for the poor she-cat. Her personality forced her to strive to be the absolute best she could be, even if she had been dealt a bad hand, in an effort to please her mentor. She couldn't be a disappointment, but she was ill fated to anyway. As much as she tried, she was no where's near quick enough to catch much prey, aside from the occasional old, lame, or sickly rabbit, and few other prey fared well for her either. When it came time to learn to fight, well, it went about as well as expected, her lameness holding her back, and her uneven gait leading to even worse pouncing ability- she could barely even manage to get into the correct position for such moves, and even then it was wrong. Brooksong would try to have her spar with other apprentices, but she'd quickly be taken down, by the young, healthy cats, very rarely doing just well enough to earn a little praise. When Gorsepaw and Runningpaw became warriors after a border scuffle a year into their training, one that claimed her mother, as well as Rabbitpaw, she cheered for them, though her face burned hot with shame, and they had stopped being so brotherly to her when the other apprentices mocked them for their deformed sister. How can you be related to her? They'd ask, ignoring her proximity, You're... normal, she's... well... She loved them, however, and cried the loudest to celebrate their promotions, while beating herself up for not being a normal, useful apprentice. Maybe if she was like her brothers, she could have been there, and saved her mother and brother. It was another six moons until she was able to scrape by a simple test set for her and gain her warrior name, Crookedwing, and while the clan cheered as tradition, she could hear the hesitation in some voices. Regardless, she stood tall and proud outward, while inward she shriveled. Eighteen moons and only half a warrior.
She has never seen a true battle, and is rarely sent out hunting or on patrol, as it is rather common knowledge that all she really does is slow everyone else down, and in the case of a skirmish, she would either get herself, or other warriors, killed. In order to make herself useful, she took to cleaning and other boring chores daily, all day every day. She'll clean the warrior's den, elder's den, nursery, she'll sort the fresh kill pile, she'll fetch fresh bedding for all the nests, there isn't a task she won't complete, and complete well, in her attempt to not just be a useless mouth to feed.
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[PTab=Tab3]DO YOU BELIEVE IN STARCLAN? WHY OR WHY NOT?
No, not truly. I know not believing in them probably only furthers my differences from the other clan cats, but if there was a StarClan, why on earth would they let me be born like this?
FAVORITE HISTORICAL CAT? WHY? Brightheart. She was able to overcome her injuries and be a warrior, maybe I can, one day... or perhaps, that's another life.
WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FEAR?
Becoming such a burden to my clan that they throw me out.
IF YOUR BEST FRIEND/MOTHER/WHOEVER KNOWS YOU WELL COULD DESCRIBE YOU IN THREE INDIVIDUAL WORDS, WHAT WOULD THOSE BE? DO YOU AGREE OR DISAGREE?
Ah well... abnormal? A little useless, but hey, I take the jobs no one wants, so maybe they'd have something nice to say! Oh that's not three words... Ah, kind. I'm kind.
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[PTab=Tab4]USERNAME/ALIAS - Glitch
PRONOUNS - She, Her
TIMEZONE - EST
OTHER CHARACTERS - Sunstrike
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PAST NAMES - Crookedkit, Crookedpaw
SEX - She-cat
AGE - 72 Moons
CLAN & RANK - WindClan Warrior
BRIEF DESCRIPTION - A brown tabby and white she-cat with green eyes and a twisted spine.
SEX - She-cat
AGE - 72 Moons
CLAN & RANK - WindClan Warrior
BRIEF DESCRIPTION - A brown tabby and white she-cat with green eyes and a twisted spine.
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[PTab=Tab2]APPEARANCE - Crookedwing is a very plain cat, average, and easily overlooked. Her coat is a dusty brown, cut through with darker tabby striping. This is offset with bright white areas stretching from her jaw to her chest, and white tipped toes on her forepaws. Her face lacks the elegance some carry, lacking any sort of sharp, defined features, and instead being graces with a rather round face. Her muzzle, while not flat like some kittypets, is short and small, She is relatively standard sized for WindClan female, fairly petite with an extraordinarily long tail and similarly long legs. Like most cats of her clan, she is built for speed, to race across the moorlands in search of the prey of choice: rabbits.
Fate did not shine kindly on Crookedwing however, as despite that WindClan build, she is by far not a very fast cat. See, while plain overall, not an ugly cat, but far from beautiful, and not warranting any second glances among her clan, new cats do spare a second glance. Her spine, between her shoulder blades, twisted suddenly and briefly to an awkward angle before continuing down her back, giving her left shoulder a slight hitch, and causing her to favor it with a severe limp as it is difficult to place both front paws on the ground due to the uneven nature of her posture.
PERSONALITY - Crookedwing's disability has always brought her down. On the outside, she is absolutely one of the most bubbly cats you'd ever want to know. She has the sort of personality of someone you'd want to be close with, to hold near and dear. She lives to please others, taking on all the clan chores that no one else wants to do, and she does it with a (metaphorical) spring in her step. However, this stems from a dark place deep inside her, one she tries to smother every single time it wells up, one she refuses to acknowledge. She feels like a burden to her clan, she knows she's an utter disappointment and will never truly be useful, as anything she can do, someone else could likely do much better.
She does typically hide it well though, underneath a happy, yet quiet, facade. One of her few pleasures in life however is simply blending. See, when you put up the front of nothing but happy go lucky cat, you busy yourself constantly around clan life, when no one notices you, or deems you important, cats talk. A lot.
And this frequently overlooked she-cat sees a lot too. This means that, while she never brings it up in conversation- few cats converse with her as it is, she knows a lot about everone and everything, on the collective clan, than most of the individuals know themselves. She knows how her mother likely found love outside of the clans when she produced four kits. She knows how Runningleap frequently likes to eat to his fill before he brings prey back to the clan.
Crookedwing is however very, very intelligent. Unable to do much, she absorbs as much as she can, like a dry sponge, and retains it well. She is a talented strategist, though few would ever listen to a cat who has never really seen proper battle. Despite everything however, despite being the first to likely know dark secrets and distressing facts, despite her deformity making her feel like the ultimate burden on her clan, she has a positive outlook on life- perhaps not her own, but she feels WindClan's power, and has supreme pride in WindClan, even if she doesn't feel like she should be allowed to be a part of it.
Secretly, she hates being a warrior, as she always knew that she would never achieve what some could, and much would have preferred being a medicine cat, where perhaps she could have been useful. She's not truly close to any cat in particular, her brother's stopped being especially nice and loving towards her when it cost them popularity as apprentices. Regardless of this, she still loves them dearly, and she understands. She's always wanted a mate and kits, though she's long resigned herself that no one would want her, and that kits would be a bad idea for a cat that may have issues that could be genetically passed along. This does not, however, stop her from admiring handsome toms from afar, including a stone-cold leader who she knows she has absolutely zero chance with...
FAMILY - Mother:
Father: Unknown, but likely not a clan cat
Siblings: Gorsefur- Tom
Runningleap- Tom
HISTORY - When Heatherpool gave birth, the clan did not question her on the sire, assuming they may know soon enough, or perhaps she would eventually relent. She would not, and would equally ignore the rare, quiet murmurs from cat's wondering if perhaps they were half-clan, but a sharp look and low hiss from the strict, strong warrior silenced them for the most part. She could not however stop the commotion when the medicine cat mentioned that one of the kits was... off. She was named Crookedkit due to her deformed spine, and the medicine cat warned that she may not make it, or she may never walk, much was uncertain at the time, so Heatherpool doted on her three healthy toms, and begrudgingly, Crookedkit. Crookedkit did not die however, and much to Heatherpool's pleasure, could walk, though not all too well.
Despite her initial disdain, Heatherpool did truly love all of her kits, though she expressed concern to their leader about Crookedkit's ability to become an warrior apprentice. Crookedkit never did truly find out what cruel series of events would leave Sootpaw to become the medicine cat's apprentice instead of her, however, and around the same time, Crookedkit became Crookedpaw, and was given to Brooksong. The clan scoffed and seemed a little riled. What was their leader thinking, letting such a blatantly lame cat have a shot at being a warrior? No one was as shocked and confused as Crookedkit however. She had already learned by that tender age of six moons that she was abnormal, and would never be normal. Regardless, she held her head as high as possible, and along with her brothers, hobbled to her mentor and greeted her as an apprentice.
The next dozen moons would be absolutely hectic for the poor she-cat. Her personality forced her to strive to be the absolute best she could be, even if she had been dealt a bad hand, in an effort to please her mentor. She couldn't be a disappointment, but she was ill fated to anyway. As much as she tried, she was no where's near quick enough to catch much prey, aside from the occasional old, lame, or sickly rabbit, and few other prey fared well for her either. When it came time to learn to fight, well, it went about as well as expected, her lameness holding her back, and her uneven gait leading to even worse pouncing ability- she could barely even manage to get into the correct position for such moves, and even then it was wrong. Brooksong would try to have her spar with other apprentices, but she'd quickly be taken down, by the young, healthy cats, very rarely doing just well enough to earn a little praise. When Gorsepaw and Runningpaw became warriors after a border scuffle a year into their training, one that claimed her mother, as well as Rabbitpaw, she cheered for them, though her face burned hot with shame, and they had stopped being so brotherly to her when the other apprentices mocked them for their deformed sister. How can you be related to her? They'd ask, ignoring her proximity, You're... normal, she's... well... She loved them, however, and cried the loudest to celebrate their promotions, while beating herself up for not being a normal, useful apprentice. Maybe if she was like her brothers, she could have been there, and saved her mother and brother. It was another six moons until she was able to scrape by a simple test set for her and gain her warrior name, Crookedwing, and while the clan cheered as tradition, she could hear the hesitation in some voices. Regardless, she stood tall and proud outward, while inward she shriveled. Eighteen moons and only half a warrior.
She has never seen a true battle, and is rarely sent out hunting or on patrol, as it is rather common knowledge that all she really does is slow everyone else down, and in the case of a skirmish, she would either get herself, or other warriors, killed. In order to make herself useful, she took to cleaning and other boring chores daily, all day every day. She'll clean the warrior's den, elder's den, nursery, she'll sort the fresh kill pile, she'll fetch fresh bedding for all the nests, there isn't a task she won't complete, and complete well, in her attempt to not just be a useless mouth to feed.
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[PTab=Tab3]DO YOU BELIEVE IN STARCLAN? WHY OR WHY NOT?
No, not truly. I know not believing in them probably only furthers my differences from the other clan cats, but if there was a StarClan, why on earth would they let me be born like this?
FAVORITE HISTORICAL CAT? WHY? Brightheart. She was able to overcome her injuries and be a warrior, maybe I can, one day... or perhaps, that's another life.
WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FEAR?
Becoming such a burden to my clan that they throw me out.
IF YOUR BEST FRIEND/MOTHER/WHOEVER KNOWS YOU WELL COULD DESCRIBE YOU IN THREE INDIVIDUAL WORDS, WHAT WOULD THOSE BE? DO YOU AGREE OR DISAGREE?
Ah well... abnormal? A little useless, but hey, I take the jobs no one wants, so maybe they'd have something nice to say! Oh that's not three words... Ah, kind. I'm kind.
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[PTab=Tab4]USERNAME/ALIAS - Glitch
PRONOUNS - She, Her
TIMEZONE - EST
OTHER CHARACTERS - Sunstrike
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