mallowstorm | windclan warrior
Aug 18, 2015 14:17:18 GMT -6
Post by cosmo☆ on Aug 18, 2015 14:17:18 GMT -6
mallowstorm
tom ● twenty-six moons ● windclan ● warrior
a big, stocky white tom with yellow eyes
A P P E A R A N C E
Mallowstorm is big. He's got a thick body with strong, muscular legs and wide paws used for powerful strikes. His tail is almost tubular in shape, and quite fluffy. There's a roundness to his face, apparent in his round, low hanging cheeks and wide muzzle. Atop his head sits two ears, quite tall and almost bat like. Overall, Mallowstorm is not a cat that one can easily get around, and he makes it quite clear while shoving through barriers (be it plants or cats). His strength, however, lends a hand when supporting his clan mates, and he is often called to help guide injured cats to the medicine cat.
As his name suggests, Mallowstorm is a solid white cat without a trace of any other color on him besides his pink tinged nose, ears, and paw pads. His fur is short but thick, smooth along most of his body but fluffing up at his tail to make it appear thicker than it is. His round, almond shaped eyes are yellow, tinged with some off-green color and a pale brown that, quite honestly, makes for an ugly shade of yellow. They're nothing to look at.
Besides all that, Mallowstorm's appearance is quite regular--aside from his large presence. There is a small nick just above his right eye, a tiny scar from some skirmish he can't remember. Two other scars sit at the base of his spine, where his tail meets his rump. They're equally difficult to see, but he often complains about them being itchy every so often.
Mallowstorm is big. He's got a thick body with strong, muscular legs and wide paws used for powerful strikes. His tail is almost tubular in shape, and quite fluffy. There's a roundness to his face, apparent in his round, low hanging cheeks and wide muzzle. Atop his head sits two ears, quite tall and almost bat like. Overall, Mallowstorm is not a cat that one can easily get around, and he makes it quite clear while shoving through barriers (be it plants or cats). His strength, however, lends a hand when supporting his clan mates, and he is often called to help guide injured cats to the medicine cat.
As his name suggests, Mallowstorm is a solid white cat without a trace of any other color on him besides his pink tinged nose, ears, and paw pads. His fur is short but thick, smooth along most of his body but fluffing up at his tail to make it appear thicker than it is. His round, almond shaped eyes are yellow, tinged with some off-green color and a pale brown that, quite honestly, makes for an ugly shade of yellow. They're nothing to look at.
Besides all that, Mallowstorm's appearance is quite regular--aside from his large presence. There is a small nick just above his right eye, a tiny scar from some skirmish he can't remember. Two other scars sit at the base of his spine, where his tail meets his rump. They're equally difficult to see, but he often complains about them being itchy every so often.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Mallowstorm is a tom of great expression. He always makes his opinion loud and very, very clear. Everyone needs to hear it. Whether it be arguing against trespassers or proclaiming loyalty to Windclan, if he has something to say, he'll say it. He's definitely a blunt tom, and has little qualms with telling you whether you're right or wrong (especially when you're wrong). He's also impatient and, perhaps, a little over-eager to fight. But who wouldn't be when you're a great big tom with big claws and an even bigger attitude. He's confident and, even in strange and new situations, certainly does not back down from anything.
That being said, Mallowstorm is fiercely loyal to his clan. He would fight (or talk) to the death for Windclan and their ways. He snorts at the lifestyles of the other clans, wondering why one would climb trees, swim in rivers, or slink in the shadows when you could enjoy the wind blown moors, and give chase to rabbit and mice. However, he is surprisingly adaptable, almost like an all terrain vehicle. His thick size gives him an advantage in the field--well, for the most part. He wouldn't dare admit the fact that he tends to sink like a rock and gets weak legs around heights, and that sparkling white pelt of his doesn't do much to hide him.
This tom has as big a heart as he does a body. He's a lovable oaf, to put it mildly. Sure, he can be a bull-headed and likes rushing into things, but to his clan mates, he's always up for a laugh or a spar. Mallowstorm loves a good joke, as he's usually the one guffawing loud enough to wake the dead. Surprisingly, he's careful around the rest of the clan, minding where he puts his big paws--or rump.
Mallowstorm is a tom of great expression. He always makes his opinion loud and very, very clear. Everyone needs to hear it. Whether it be arguing against trespassers or proclaiming loyalty to Windclan, if he has something to say, he'll say it. He's definitely a blunt tom, and has little qualms with telling you whether you're right or wrong (especially when you're wrong). He's also impatient and, perhaps, a little over-eager to fight. But who wouldn't be when you're a great big tom with big claws and an even bigger attitude. He's confident and, even in strange and new situations, certainly does not back down from anything.
That being said, Mallowstorm is fiercely loyal to his clan. He would fight (or talk) to the death for Windclan and their ways. He snorts at the lifestyles of the other clans, wondering why one would climb trees, swim in rivers, or slink in the shadows when you could enjoy the wind blown moors, and give chase to rabbit and mice. However, he is surprisingly adaptable, almost like an all terrain vehicle. His thick size gives him an advantage in the field--well, for the most part. He wouldn't dare admit the fact that he tends to sink like a rock and gets weak legs around heights, and that sparkling white pelt of his doesn't do much to hide him.
This tom has as big a heart as he does a body. He's a lovable oaf, to put it mildly. Sure, he can be a bull-headed and likes rushing into things, but to his clan mates, he's always up for a laugh or a spar. Mallowstorm loves a good joke, as he's usually the one guffawing loud enough to wake the dead. Surprisingly, he's careful around the rest of the clan, minding where he puts his big paws--or rump.
H I S T O R Y
His parents certainly didn't expect such a plump kit.
He was, to say the least, a fat kit. His wide rump often knocked his littermates out of the way, earning him a squeal of annoyance from a sister or a quick, light cuff against his ear from a brother. He couldn't help how he was born, of course--but his voracious appetite didn't help it. His mother adored him, potbelly and all, and his littermates would often complain about how he always tucked himself into mothers front legs and was more happy to laze about then climb all over her. However, as he grew, he found that chasing his siblings was very, very fun.
He grew quick, and kept getting bigger. By the time they were all five moons old, he was the biggest--and definitely the strongest. His parents couldn't be prouder of their kits, finding great promise in the sturdy Mallowkit. His siblings, however, could only mewl in exasperation as he would barrel into them, or squash them with his big butt.
Eventually, they all became apprentices, and Mallowpaw found himself with a great opportunity. The first hunt was a bit messy, as he had yet to figure out how to work his big paws and swing his rump the right way. But boy, did he love sparring. He didn't need to worry about quickly hopping out of the way. Digging his paws into the ground and flattening his ears, he could practically take anything--or thought so, at least. He used his size to his advantage, and who wouldn't at the rate he was growing. His hunting skills did improve, of course, but with warrior training, he excelled. Every time he returned from training, he held his chin high, pride coursing through him. It was a thrill to fight, and he craved a chance to show off his skills. Unfortunately, there were little times when he encountered an enemy patrol at the border. But, during the times that he did, he made sure to puff out his chest and show how big he was--and give them an idea of how big he could get.
The Warrior naming ceremony couldn't come fast enough for Mallowpaw. Sitting next to his litter mates, all of varying sizes (though leaning on the above average size), he trembled with excitement when he was called up. Named Mallowstorm for his intense personality, the white tom paraded his new name and new rank for days, making sure everyone knew. And really, who wouldn't be impressed? Look at how big he is, how strong and capable he was. Early into his warriorhood, he proved his worth by somehow usually being in border skirmishes, though some may say he might have started them--he certainly ended most of them, that was for certain. Any and all scars he earned were worn with pride.
His parents certainly didn't expect such a plump kit.
He was, to say the least, a fat kit. His wide rump often knocked his littermates out of the way, earning him a squeal of annoyance from a sister or a quick, light cuff against his ear from a brother. He couldn't help how he was born, of course--but his voracious appetite didn't help it. His mother adored him, potbelly and all, and his littermates would often complain about how he always tucked himself into mothers front legs and was more happy to laze about then climb all over her. However, as he grew, he found that chasing his siblings was very, very fun.
He grew quick, and kept getting bigger. By the time they were all five moons old, he was the biggest--and definitely the strongest. His parents couldn't be prouder of their kits, finding great promise in the sturdy Mallowkit. His siblings, however, could only mewl in exasperation as he would barrel into them, or squash them with his big butt.
Eventually, they all became apprentices, and Mallowpaw found himself with a great opportunity. The first hunt was a bit messy, as he had yet to figure out how to work his big paws and swing his rump the right way. But boy, did he love sparring. He didn't need to worry about quickly hopping out of the way. Digging his paws into the ground and flattening his ears, he could practically take anything--or thought so, at least. He used his size to his advantage, and who wouldn't at the rate he was growing. His hunting skills did improve, of course, but with warrior training, he excelled. Every time he returned from training, he held his chin high, pride coursing through him. It was a thrill to fight, and he craved a chance to show off his skills. Unfortunately, there were little times when he encountered an enemy patrol at the border. But, during the times that he did, he made sure to puff out his chest and show how big he was--and give them an idea of how big he could get.
The Warrior naming ceremony couldn't come fast enough for Mallowpaw. Sitting next to his litter mates, all of varying sizes (though leaning on the above average size), he trembled with excitement when he was called up. Named Mallowstorm for his intense personality, the white tom paraded his new name and new rank for days, making sure everyone knew. And really, who wouldn't be impressed? Look at how big he is, how strong and capable he was. Early into his warriorhood, he proved his worth by somehow usually being in border skirmishes, though some may say he might have started them--he certainly ended most of them, that was for certain. Any and all scars he earned were worn with pride.
