Post by arcanine on Apr 22, 2013 19:05:12 GMT -5
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MY OUTSIDE
Name: Finchstar
Age: 53 moons / 4.41
Clan: MarshClan
Rank: Leader
Gender: Tom
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Breed: Mutt
Eye color: Yellow
Pelt color: Ginger
Markings: None
Height: 9 inches
Weight: 11 poundsMY INSIDE
[li] newleaf days
[/li][li] scheming
[/li][li] dawns and sunsets
[/li][li] the first snow of the year
[/li][li] older warriors
[/li][li] watching birds
[/li][li] clan gossip
[/li][li] a good grooming
[/li][li] sitting back and watching the world
[/li][li] new flowers
[/li][/ul]
[li] young apprentices
[/li][li] cocky warriors
[/li][li] being lied to/betrayed (who does?)
[/li][li] greenleaf heat
[/li][li] swimming (closer being a phobia)
[/li][li] deep water
[/li][li] the smell of rotting meat
[/li][li] being ill
[/li][li] spiders
[/li][li] foxes
[/li][/ul]
Personality:
Regal
Something short of a king, is the way he moves and walks. He can be impatient, hurtful, cruel, and a bit like a kit. However, his even voice, cool toned, and refined hand. He doesn't raise his voice, he doesn't scream or rave at cats. He's aware of his public appearance, and just because he may berate and shame other cats, he may be impatient, and he may be honest to a fault, but he rarely looses his cool temperament in broad public places. He is never obviously late to anything, if the other three Clans don't like it, like his tendency to move at his own pace, then they can easily get over themselves. He never bows his head, grovels, or apologizes for himself to another cat, aside from those he actually cares deeply for. He also tends to think that the temporary decisions, 'laws' he lays down, hold the weight of StarClan, and those that go against them, are asking for punishment to crash down on their heads.
Honest
Honesty, is his strongest policy. Liars and cheats are the ones that make his teeth itch the most, and the ones he'd be happy to remove from their lives. He also has a tendency to say what he thinks, even if it isn't really acceptable in private, let alone in public. He tends not to think before he speaks, therefore there can be agonizingly hurt feelings thrown into daily life. He tries to think when he speaks. Unfortunately, his impatience hamstrings him, and he finds himself spitting out things that he can only cringe at. He also has a tendency not to lie even to the youngest of cats. Small lies, or big, gentle or harsh, he doesn't see why one would lie to the young it will only teach the young to lie to the younger. He was taught at a young age, that honesty is the best and generally the right policy when dealing with other cats. He sadly missed the memos about polite lies. Pity.
Impatient
Wait, wait, wait! No! Keep up or be left behind. He doesn't like to be slowed down for any reason. Not for the old or sick, or even the dead. He's hurtled through his life with little regard to those who he has left in his wake. With the aid of friends and family though, he's perhaps gotten a little more reasonable. He dislikes waiting his turn, waiting for reports, and often demands answers before they are ready or half-formed. Waiting gives others time to think, and he likes to keep everyone else on their toes, it keeps them from thinking they know better than him. It also frustrates him to wait for information. You should know by now what he wants to know, you should have run faster, you should have spoken swifter! He often takes the idea of 'late' news badly, and often verbally tears into the one who is giving him a report or news. At gatherings, he's obviously impatient with the other leaders, never seeming able to sit still long enough to politely listen to their news. His is the most important, obviously.
Stubborn
Him, wrong?! Oh do spare him! In his own mind, Finchstar is never wrong, no matter the proof that is shoved under his own nose. It often takes him all but seeing his errors with his own eyes to believe he's wrong or has made a mistake. Perhaps it has to do with his quiet confidence, after all, being confident is half the battle when being right. He refuses to see things another way if it's shoved in his face, and when he thinks he knows the right path, he's not going to listen, not to you, not to his mate, and possibly not even StarClan. This stubborn nature tends to show along with his temper, the more you press the issue. Him thinking he knows better may stem from actually thinking so, but if you keep pushing it and pissing him off, he'll fight and oppose you just to make your day harder. He can be spiteful, nasty, and downright cruel should he feel the situation calls for it, and he'll be such a way in the name of 'stubbornness' or 'necessity'.
Limitations: He's extremely impatient and doesn't often see he's wrong on something. He has a fear of swimming, to the point of being phobic of it. He has trouble seeing out of his right eye, from loss of his first life, and will doubtlessly lose use of it completely in the future.
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MY HISTORY
Family:
mate;;
adderclaw - marshclan warrior
mother;; whiteflower - marshclan elderfather;; redheart
sisters;;
brightflower - marshclan warrior
goldenstream - ex-marshclan warrior
nephews;;
palefrost - marshclan warrior
leopardpelt - marshclan warrior
History:
kit
Born Finchkit to two warriors by the name of Whiteflower and Redheart alongside of his siblings, Goldenkit and Brightkit. He was the only male out of the three kits, and the darkest out of all them, though his stripes and were lighter than either of his sisters. Whiteflower had her hands full once her three kits started to climb around, including on top and over her. Their father thought it was precious, and often inspired attacks upon their mother’s resting form, which all three kits did enthusiastically. His mother was never as amused by their father, but she loved all of her children, caring for them equally, though she did expect her only son to look after his two little sisters.
apprentice
As an apprentice, Finchpaw, Brightpaw, and Goldenpaw were separated during the day by their mentors. At first, it was hard, not knowing what his sisters were doing, not knowing if they were upset or frustrated, and it frustrated him when he could only mumble something at them in passing, instead of the full conversation like he would have liked from them. This resentment of his mentor separating him from his littler-mates all day faded two moons after it started, when a new apprentice joined them in the den. Adderpaw. The younger tom was a deep black in color, with vivid yellow eyes that seemed to track other cats, though he claimed he wasn’t watching them. Their mentors were close, best friends, so needless to say, he got a lot of quality time with the new apprentice, who at first, he didn’t care one way or the other a bout. Adderpaw was a curious, mouthy thing that seemed to always have something to say about everything, and tended to say it all to Finchpaw.
He can’t tell you even today when he realized he started to see the black apprentice as his closest friend, someone who always had time for him, always listened to him, and he often did the same. He didn’t realize this, however, until his younger friend was assigned to a patrol that ran into a small group of rogues, looking for a fight. The way his heart stopped when he saw the warrior bring the limp body of his friend back into camp, is something he’ll never forget, and hopes he’ll never see again. Adderpaw wasn’t dead, just injured, blood loss threatening him more than anything. Finchpaw visited every day, talking to his friend, grooming him when the younger tom couldn’t reach areas of his medium black fur. To see his friend reduced in such away, it was devastating to see the outspoken apprentice meekly accepting the aid of another cat.
Time passed and Adderpaw healed, and soon the two were back in the apprentice’s den, laughing and sharing meals, and generally inseparable. It was a moon before he became a warrior, thick in the middle of winter that his father died, after many moons of simply weakening until he could no longer leave camp, simply because it would tire him to walk to the edge of camp. The vigil of Redheart shook him, and though he found himself comforting Brightpaw, it was Adderpaw who’s fur was most comforting against his, soothing almost, through that snowy night. After that, things started to go downhill fast. Brightpaw was killed by a fox, and Adderpaw started avoiding him. His mother was withdrawing from everyone, and Finchpaw was sinking in his own self-pity and misery.
warrior
He didn’t have long to dwell on it, a few suns later, he became a warrior after passing his assessment, though the fact that Adderpaw left halfway through the ceremony, and his mother never even showed, brought it all back. Finchpaw became Finchstrike on a cold, gray, day, and he had never felt more alone amongst his Clan.
As Finchstrike, he made a few friends out of younger warriors, and even the admirable affection of a she-cat by the name of Snowtail. The two became close, and though it had been Adderpaw who abandoned him, he felt this sense of guilt knowing at his chest when he saw the young black tom, when he was with the white and tabby she-cat. He was sure he was on the fast-track to becoming mates with her when Adderpaw became a warrior, Adderclaw, for his long front claws. He had called the young tom’s name as loud as he could pride, joy, and hope coursing through him. It was that evening when Snowtail asked him if he loved him. In shock, horror, and perhaps shame, he swore vehemently that he did not, that was unnatural, unreasonable, and a foolish question. Snowtail had placed her tail over his muzzle and merely said she thought it wasn’t a bad thing, to be in love. She just thought it was intolerably sad that they were so thick.
A month later, he asked her to be his mate. She gently denied him, telling him that though she loved him, she refused to be mated to a tom who's heart obviously didn't fall in her favor. He didn't know what she was talking about, and for almost a moon he avoided her. Though, that was more out of awkward feelings lost between them than actual desire to do so. He gained his apprentice at about twenty moons of age, a quick ginger tom by the name of Reedpaw. Snowtail's apprentice Whitepaw was happy to have someone to train with, finally.
Halfway through Reedpaw's training, Snowtail got Adderclaw to talk to him again. It was as if nothing had changed between them, and their duo added a third, the trio happy to spend their evenings talking to one another, basking in the sunset with one another. At the warrior ceremony for Reedpaw, aside from noticing that he and the pretty Whitewhisker were painfully close, he had a private chat with Adderclaw. It was on this day that Adderclaw finally admitted he loved Finchstrike. Finchstrike's silence was taken as a silent rejection, and while Finchstrike was still in shock, Adderclaw walked away, dejection in every step.
It took three moons, for Finchstrike to come around, to realize that perhaps he felt the same as well. By this time, he was almost thirty moons old, and it was soon after they became 'official' in Snowtail's words, that Finchstrike became deputy. Though, just because he accepted his odd, disturbing, and unnatural feelings, doesn't mean that he let the rest of the Clan know. There was no telling how anyone would react, let alone how other Clans would react.
Deputy
There were several moons spent as deputy, where things never escalated beyond a sharp skirmish between Clans. Adderclaw got his first apprentice three or four moons after his companion's deputyship. Finchstrike spent a few hours a day with his duties, and the rest between Adderclaw and Snowtail. Goldenstream had kits that spring, two tiny toms. One was spotted like his mother, the other a little tabby and white. Palekit and Leopardkit, and honestly, Finchstrike couldn't have been a prouder uncle. The father of the kits was unknown, but he couldn't of cared less.
However, when they were three moons old, it came out that their father was a loner, from the edge of the territory. Half-clan kits, through and through. Shame was brought upon their family, and while they started to question her loyalty, scrutiny was turned on him as well. When the question came what to do with her, Finchstrike came down on the side of exile or death. If they caught her on the territory again, they'd treat her as enemy of the Clan. Her kits were given to another queen to nurse, and Adderclaw was enraged by his choice to agree with the leader.
leader
It was almost ten moons after he became deputy that he became leader. After their their leader lost his last life, and he gained the suffix of 'star', much to his own irritation. Then again, it meant he could take care of his Clan a touch better, then so be it.
The first life he lost, was in a fight with a fox during leaf-bare. The last thing he heard was Adderclaw screeching his name as everything went black. When he awoke, the fox was dead, and his mate was assuring himself he was okay. He's ashamed to admit that he just laid in the snow, blood on him and around him, blinking like a groggy kit just awoken from his nap. That was early in his leadership, but he's gotten better about it.
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