Wildclaw of ShadowClan

[gale]

[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][cs=2][classy=charname]Wildclaw[/classy]
[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:105px; height:365px; overflow:hidden;][classy=stattop]clan[/classy][classy=statbottom]ShadowClan[/classy] [classy=stattop]rank[/classy][classy=statbottom]Warrior[/classy] [classy=stattop]age[/classy][classy=statbottom]20 moons[/classy] [classy=stattop]gender[/classy][classy=statbottom]Male[/classy] [classy=stattop]sexuality[/classy][classy=statbottom] Heterosexual[/classy]	[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:345px; height:365px; overflow:hidden; padding:2px;][style=margin-top:-18px;][classy=infotop]appearance[/classy][classy=appbottom]A grey-and-white mottled tom with long, fluffy fur and blue eyes.IMAGE[/classy] [classy=infotop]personality[/classy][classy=infobottom]Wildclaw is a very proud tom. There are times when his proud nature comes off as arrogant, but he does not mean it to be as such. He has a deep hatred for the other Clans that has no reasonable foundation. Whenever he is near a cat of another Clan, he tends to be rather rude if he acknowledges their presence. However, that trait doesn't happen every single time; there are situations or days that he will behave much more courteously and kind. To other ShadowClan cats, he is an extremely compassionate cat. He will do anything for his Clanmates, even if it's an infraction to the warrior code. He lives and breathes for ShadowClan. That means that Wildclaw will do anything to ensure that his Clan will survive and prosper. He does have a temper and a sharp tongue, but he will only show that side when provoked greatly such as when his or his mother's loyalty towards ShadowClan is questioned. Otherwise, he is rather calm, collected and friendly to others.[/classy] [classy=infotop]history[/classy][classy=infobottom]Wildkit was born as a single kit in the ShadowClan nursery. His mother had said nothing to any cat about who his father was to the Clan; it was speculated that his father was either a loner or a kittypet. However, Snowpelt did not allow the jeers to reach her kit's ears during the time that he was in the nursery. She did every thing in her power to protect her only son from what she would later call the biggest mistake of her life. Of course, she was glad that she had engaged in it because if she didn't, she never would have had the little bundle of fur that was laying against her belly. Of course, she could do nothing after he stepped out of the cocoon of safety that she built. Murmurs of his questioned heritage reached Wildkit's ears and sneers towards his mother's loyalty to the Clan floated to him. He did nothing to stand up for himself, but he did defend his mother viciously. They commented on how he looked nothing like Snowpelt who was a sleek, white-furred she-cat with amber eyes while her son was a fluffy tom with mottled white-and-grey fur and brilliant blue eyes. For a while, he isolated himself from the others except for Snowpelt. Alone, she taught him some basic skills and told him not to pick fights where she was concerned. She let him know that the words could not harm her or her pride, but if he were to get in a fight and find himself banished, then she would feel the cut. "Right here," she had said, putting her tail on her chest. "Those cut go the deepest." Before long, Wildkit was promoted to Wildpaw. And wild he was. His limitless energy nearly outlasted his mentor's. For the most part, the grey-and-white tom avoided the other apprentices out of his own disdain towards them. Slowly, he found himself opening up to them and realized that not many of them disliked him or his mother. That moment of understand and acceptance allowed him to be more open to his Clanmates, even if they didn't like him in the long run. Wildpaw realized that he really did not care what they thought about him, but if they said anything bad about his mother, that's when he would still stand up for her. Whether the Clan noticed it or not, he had a ferocious hatred for the other Clans. Those few cats who had taken notice had no idea where the deep dislike stemmed from and neither did Wildpaw. It simply grew and appeared like a poisonous weed; tainting his thoughts and attitude towards other Clan cats. When it came to Gatherings, he was always forced to stay near Snowpelt in order to avoid complications. The last thing that was desired was for ShadowClan to have their dignity stripped away because of a single, hot-headed apprentice. Eventually, Wildpaw earned his warrior name and became Wildclaw for his ferocious, defensive nature and his loyalty to the Clan. Unfortunately, his celebration at becoming a warrior came to a tragic, premature end. Snowpelt developed some sort of illness that she could not shake. It caused her to have a major breathing problem and whatever it was, it was taking her life quickly. The Clan had gathered around her, but she wished only for the newly named Wildclaw to remain for the last moments of her life. It was then that she told him his true heritage, his father was a rogue who Snowpelt had nursed back to health while he hid just outside of ShadowClan territory. He had been called Sea after the place he had been born and Wildclaw bore an uncanny resemblance to him. When Snowpelt succumbed to the sickness later that night, Wildclaw held no dislike for his mother nor his rogue father. After his mother's demise, Wildclaw worked hard to prove himself a worthy ShadowClan warrior. To this day, he works towards a singular goal: Help ShadowClan survive.[/classy]
[atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:450px; padding:2px;][cs=2][classy=infotop]roleplay sample[/classy][classy=rpsample]Wildclaw strained his ears, listening for any sound of intruding cats. Nothing was stirring besides prey; the tom allowed himself to drop his guard. It appeared that there would be no trouble from the ThunderClan cats that lay just beyond the Thunderpath, something that he was glad of. As much as he enjoyed the thrill of battle, Wildclaw knew when a fight was unnecessary. Besides, he was alone on a improvisation border patrol. Like everyone else, he knew that the real border patrol would come soon; if he had run into trouble at least he wouldn't have faced it completely alone. A small smile of remembrance grew on his normally stoic face. The Thunderpath had used to scare him so badly that he wouldn't even dream of coming more than a few badger lengths from its rough surface. If any cat had told him that he would stand with his paws nearly touching it, he would have scoffed at the thought while hiding the fear of his future self growing such a reckless nature. Of course, Wildclaw wasn't reckless but he wasn't so afraid of the monsters or their mode of transportation any longer. He knew exactly what to look out for. A rustling sound in the bushes behind him spurred him into disappearing into the pine forest. The last thing the warrior wanted was to be questioned yet again about his extremely close exploration of the Thunderpath. He knew that there were some cats in his Clan that believed he was planning some sort of invasion on one of the other Clans. A roll of his blue eyes at such a mouse brained idea was more than enough to settle his mind. No cat would be foolish enough to attack another Clan along. That would be a death wish. Though, it was at least better than the other rumour that started to circulate not too long ago. Now, that certain sort of talk was something he did not tolerate. A single cat spread the rumour among its Clanmates and said that Wildclaw was plotting to leave Clan life behind and join his father as a kittypet. His claws tore into the grass at the very thought. Whoever had spoken those words were lucky that he knew not who they were. In a way, he was also lucky that the cat's identity was unknown. If it hadn't been, there was always the chance that he would go against the warrior code and engaged in some sort of confrontation at a Gathering. Wildclaw did his absolute best to keep his promise to his mother and he did well thus far. The sign that he was growing aggravated was usually more than enough to get another ShadowClan cat to interfere; he was grateful for the unique colour blend on his coat. It was like a beacon and was completely unmistakable. As were his blue eyes when they sparked with fiery anger at taunts. The tom walked through the pine forest, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. Maybe it was time for him to start a hunt. That usually worked to distance his mind from the problems that lay just at the surface of his consciousness. Indeed, he would do just that. The scent of a nearby mouse was caught in his scent glands; he lowered himself into a hunter's crouch and headed towards it; dropping all other previous thoughts. He had a Clan to hunt for and many mouths to feed. That was his duty.[/classy]

[flyaway]