Post by flyaway on Jun 8, 2013 22:34:14 GMT -5
| [atrb=cellspacing,0,bTable][atrb=border,0,bTable][cs=2][classy=charname]alderthorn[/classy] | |
| [atrb=style, width:105px; height:365px; overflow:hidden;][classy=stattop]clan[/classy][classy=statbottom]river[/classy] [classy=stattop]rank[/classy][classy=statbottom]warrior[/classy] [classy=stattop]age[/classy][classy=statbottom]thirty-five[/classy] [classy=stattop]gender[/classy][classy=statbottom]male [/classy] [classy=stattop]sexuality[/classy][classy=statbottom]heterosexual[/classy] | [atrb=style, width:345px; height:365px; overflow:hidden; padding:2px;][style=margin-top:-18px;][classy=infotop]appearance[/classy][classy=appbottom]a large broad-shouldered tabby tom with green eyes - click[/classy] [classy=infotop]personality[/classy][classy=infobottom]masculine Alderthorn embodies the very definition of the word "masculine". He gives off the scent of testosterone. This comes not only from his bulky build, but from his silent intimidating personality. He embodies the idea of a "strong silent type". Many rumors have been spread about exactly what happened in that skirmish with Shadowclan and Ashcloud's paw, which have given him a violent reputation despite his guilt. guilty Since the incident, Alderthorn has felt nothing but overwhelming guilt. He has come to see himself as a Starclan-given weapon, meant for nothing but destruction - a pure "warrior" in all sense of the word. He fears that he can do nothing but destroy, even unintentionally. This makes him fearful of being near others and accidentally hurting them. He is especially fearful of battles, as he believes he will unintentionally kill or maim more undeserving victims. He prays often to Starclan for forgiveness, yet simultaneously believes they meant him for such destruction and can't understand why he has done what he has done. quiet He tends to keep primarily to himself. He spends a majority of his time alone in thought and meditates on his guilt and moral troubles. His favorite place is a secluded patch of reeds near the river. He has no idea of his rogue heritage, and thus believes that his unusual bulkiness is a sign from Starclan. He can't decide whether he is a misused gift from above, a curse, or a mistake. This gives him huge personal conflict and identity issues as well. He is also particularly afraid of breeding and passing on what could be a curse.[/classy] [classy=infotop]history[/classy][classy=infobottom]Alderthorn was born Alderkit, the son of Deersprint and Willowsong, both full-blooded warriors of Riverclan. But to truly tell Alderthorn's story, one must first hear the story of his parents. Willowsong was fourth generation Riverclan. She had been raised with all the stereotypical values of the clan. She was a thin lithe creature, beautiful in a subtle easy way. Deersprint, on the other hand, was not quite so purebred. Or at the very least, there was question over his parentage. His mother was a born and bred Riverclan warrior, a tiny little thing. When she had become pregnant, she'd kept the father a secret at first - as was her right. But after being caught a few moons earlier on a suspicious "moonhigh solo patrol", she'd pinned the fatherhood on a rather bumbling timid tom warrior. The warrior in question had been mooning over her since they were apprentices and was only too happy to have her "love". In reality, as many expected, Deersprint's father was not of Riverclan. In fact he wasn't of the clans at all. He was a loner who happened to pass through. Deersprint never met his father, Alderthorn's grandfather, yet he also knew from an early age that his parentage wasn't as was claimed. He grew into an unusually broad and bulky tom. Where his mother and "father" were lean with the classic stream-lined Riverclan body, Deersprint didn't fit this stereotype. He wasn't quite so massive as a Shadowclanner, but his broad shoulders and heavy body were noticeable. He trained as an apprentice, then later as a warrior where he would meet and mate with Willowsong. And later, Willowsong would give birth to her first litter - which included Alderkit, Elmkit and Pinekit, three sons. Elmkit and Pinekit took after their mother's classic Riverclan build, while Alderthorn took after his father, and his grandfather's, bulky build. Alderkit grew up with the love and affections of both his parents. He was perfectly pleased. Even at an early age, he emerged as a quick-footed young cat. Alderkit and his brothers were all made apprentices while Willowsong and Deersprint sat below watching. Alderkit became Alderpaw and was apprenticed to a senior warrior named Bearclaw. Alderpaw flourished under Bearclaw's careful eye. Alderpaw was quick on his feet, his senses heightened. His battle instincts were well-developed. While his hunting had to be carefully concentrated on, his offensive training came almost naturally. He emerged as an unusually talented warrior. He was consistently victorious in spars with his fellow apprentices and began to take pride in his battle prowess. At twelve moons of age, as was customary, Alderpaw finished his training. He was awarded the warrior name of Alderthorn, signifying his strength in battle. Alderthorn was happy as a warrior. But the clans were at peace. His unusual skills (and his eagerness for battle) went unrealized. He joined patrols, supported his clan. His mother was confined once more to the Nursery, with a second litter on the way. She'd had trouble conceiving after her first litter. Alderthorn grew and aged. He passed his twenty-third moon. He was on patrol with his old mentor, Bearclaw, when his life changed. The patrol was routine, reinforcing border lines along the Shadowclan edge. To his surprise, they met with a Shadowclan patrol engaged in the same activity. Tense words were traded. Miscommunications were had, and somewhere in between - violence broke out. Alderthorn's heart hammered, the moment he had waited for had arrived. He found himself pitted against a small beautiful gray and white she-cat, one he vaguely recognized as the newly named warrior Ashcloud. Yet her youthful status didn't stop him from engaging her in battle, as was his calling. They fought, Alderthorn quickly emerged as the stronger of the two. He swiped Ashcloud's paws out from under her. The she-cat collapsed underneath him. Alderthorn reared back on his hind legs, preparing to come down in a victorious pin. But he had horribly misjudged both his own weight, and the impact of the pin. Ashcloud twisted just as he came down. Instead of his heavy paws landing on her shoulders, one came down on her front paw. There was a sickening snap, the crunching of bone. Screams mingled in his ears - screams he recognized as not only Ashcloud's, but an apprentice of his own clan, Juniperpaw. He recoiled in horror. He hadn't moved, still crushing her paw. He scrambled off of her. The pain-wrenched scream had drowned out everything. The battle had come to a halt, it was over. He watched from Riverclan territory as the young she-cat was carried by her clan back to their camp. Not a single warrior could meet his gaze. A short time later he would learn that the young Ashcloud would be crippled for life, her paw twisted beyond repair. Alderthorn fell into a quiet reclusive state. He barely spoke, lost his luster for battle. A great guilt fell on his shoulders. He began to see himself as a weapon, meant for mass destruction and death. He loathed himself. He retreated into silence. He gained a reputation for being strong and silent, intimidating. Rumors were spread about him - about his violence, about the danger of crossing him. But Alderthorn never again could force himself to touch another, he avoied violence as closely as he could. He fell into a heavy silence, Ashcloud's screams echoing in his ears.[/classy] |
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