Mothstorm [Shadowclan]

Mothstorm

Age:14 Moons
Gender:She-cat
Rank:Warrior
Clan:Shadowclan
Short Description:Small silver she-cat, with a pale green gaze.

Appearance:
Due to her mother's genes, Mothstorm had grown as a small, slender she-cat. Her muscles had been formed around her legs giving her an an amazing sense of speed. While she's a small, skinny cat her face is narrowed, the fur around her small pink, delicate nose is a rich maple.

The rest of her fur is a pale silver, while her stripes grow darker then her normal pelt color. At her shoulders her stripes come together a a diamond and then spirals off as separate stripes. As her body trails down to her tail, the stripes curl around it as a tiger's stripes would.

Her eyes make up her narrowed face, they're a rich, pale green. Her pupils are black slits, while they sparkle in the sunlight. Her ears are small and usually kept at the top of her head, for she always faces things head-on.

Personality:
Mothstorm isn't what you would call, shy, quiet or anything amongst the sort. She isn't exactly rude or mean either, she's that rambunctious, out-going one. The one that never gets clue, and loves to talk, talk, talk.

While she talks, and talks she is also known for her barbed tongue. When in battle she often loves to circle her opponents with her speed. And lash out with her strong words of hatred.

When it comes to being in careful situations she often finds herself getting out them quite quickly. Although she often ruins it by saying something too loudly, or accidentally stepping on a twig. Yes she is indeed clumsy.

Being gifted with speed comes with a price, as well as being completely useless in the form of strength she is quite clumsy and is known for falling on her sorry face. Which in the end it's a quite bad combination, speed plus clumsiness? No, it does not work out.

History:
She was born to the gentle, loving queen, Darkrose. Her birth had been welcomed by the sweet scent of freshly grown flowers, and gentle chirping of the birds. Yes, her birth had been welcomed by new-leaf's gentle grasp.

Along with her brothers she found the new world exciting, bounding and squeaking about she found that when you stuck your nose into a badger's whole it wasn't a good idea. She also discovered that if you eat the whole clan's burdock supply, you get yelled at. And a really, really bad stomach ache.

As she and her brothers grew older they finally discovered the brutality of the world, they finally discovered that all cats weren't as soft as their mother. Smokekit, that had been her brother's name. That was the one who played with her and taught her how to fight. He had been killed first.

Ravenkit and Mothkit that was who they were now, there was no Smokekit anymore. Just the two of them, growing up in fear. Never again did Mothkit stick her nose into places they didn't belong, never again did she leave camp as a kit.

When she became an apprentice she was assigned the mentor, Cougarface. A hardcore warrior, she-cat. perfect for training the young and curious apprentice. Although she was troubled about the outside world she soon became the cat she once was.

As she grew older she found herself becoming out-going, she found herself loving to talk. She found herself becoming less scared of the outside world.

As the clans were sent into turmoil, she found herself becoming weary once more. This had forced the clans to go live in the mountains until their beloved homes returned to normal. As they clambered up into the mountain she had met him. A stupid, mouse-brained tom by the name of Hawkpaw. He had seemed nice at first, bu then she realized he was just a grump and didn't like others.

When things returned to normal, and the clans had traveled back she ended up running into the tom once again. But this time she wasn't trying to be friendly. This time it was over a border skirmish. In the end she had won, and the next she would see him he would be a warrior. This time she was sure she'd win once again.

"H-he's dead?" Mothpaw asked quietly as Nightstalker strode into camp, her brother's limp body dangled from his murderous jaws.
"Yes, a fox got him." he meowed coldly, no expression was readable from his face.

"Th-That's not true." she squeaked in horror, "He-He can't be dead!"

^{Accepted&&..Ah..she needs to become a warrior pretty badly. She was one of the first litters born on BTHV1 D:}