Post by abra on Jun 30, 2011 12:56:24 GMT -5
Honeyfur
JUST WANT ONE THING, JUST TO PLAY THE KING
BUT THE CASTLE'S CRUMBLED AND YOUR LEFT WITH JUST A NAME.
WHERE'S YOUR CROWN KING NOTHING?
JUST WANT ONE THING, JUST TO PLAY THE KING
BUT THE CASTLE'S CRUMBLED AND YOUR LEFT WITH JUST A NAME.
WHERE'S YOUR CROWN KING NOTHING?
NAME... Honeyfur
AGE... 32 moons.
GENDER... Female
CLAN... CheetahClan
POSITION... Warrior
SPECIES... African Cheetah
APPEARANCE...Like all cheetahs, Honeyfur is a lean, mean, running machine. She's fairly small, standing a odd 26 inches at the shoulder, so that's obviously not her strongest quality. Despite this, she's got all the spitfire and speed of larger animals of her Clan. Her long legs are delicate, and her tail is strong and long, ringed with black and white. Her spots that are a dark black in color dapple her body, no one connecting to another, as she's not a apparent carrier of the tabby gene.
On her face the tear lines from her eyes down to her jaw are black in color as well, making her just like everyone else. Her large nose is black and broad, along with the large nostrils given to the species. Her eyes are large and she sees quite well for long distances, allowing her to see what she needs to watch out for. In color, they are more brown than amber-orange, and the pupil is black and tight, settled well within her eyes. Though she has no scars on her body, on her mind is another matter.
PERSONALITY...
Prickly: It really doesn't take much to make Honeyfur angry. While her name may suggest that she's a sweet tempered feline, don't be fooled, she'll happily try to take your ears off for the slightest of insults. She doesn't care if it was a slip of the tongue or tone, she's someone whose buttons are touch sensitive, and you can easily throw her from mellow into anger with just the wrong statement. It's not that she's someone who loves to launch into an argument, or hiss insults at them, but then again, she can't help herself. It makes her teeth itch if she just lets something lie, and doesn't respond. This can easily lead to issues when it comes to other Clans and confrontations. The chance to insult them, is too great for her half the time. Sadly though, this isn't restricted to enemies, but also includes her Clanmates. She has littler tolerance for foolish apprentices, and even less for those that tend to play around more than do their share of hunting or paroling.
Sarcastic: Honeyfur's sense of sarcasm is also very developed. Often replies to things or people she doesn't like with sarcasm, giving others the idea that she' s not the most kind of cats. However, just because she'll usually spit a sarcastic insult at you doesn't mean that she can't be normal with her words. That's another issue with her. When she's normal, they're generally rather cold hearted, cruel from another's point of view. To her, she sees nothing wrong with it, and often she ends up confused by exactly what she said wrong when hurt feelings or anger result from the conversation. She's not the most brilliant when it comes to other felines, I suppose you could say. This often leaves her feeling confused and frustrated with herself, and generally rather snappish.
Blunt: To dance around the truth, is honestly not her style. Honeyfur will happily tell you the truth, good and bad, with a blank look on her face. To lie to others seems stupid to her, after all, they will eventually find out, and when they find you lied to them, they're 'appreciation' of you will evaporate like water during the hottest of seasons. For her honesty though, it seems that only the youngest members of their clan are exempt from her harsh tongue. Kits, are harder to tell bad truths to, especially when they stare at you with so much hope and wonder, dreams still dancing across their tiny, unformed minds. There's just something about that, that she can't crush under her paw, no matter how much she'd prefer to sometimes. One reason for this, part, of her personality is simply that she learned at a young age that lying brings a load of pain and unhappy relations. The truth can hurt worse, but only if you've been lied to first.
Careful: Honeyfur, is always careful with the others in her life. Such as who she lets enter it, and who she wants out of it. She's not going to rush into any relationship, from friendship to lover, without a good deal of thinking on it. She's seen how others have been hurt, and she's all too keen to keep her heart from being ripped and torn like that. In all aspects of her life, she's rather rash, except for this. This is one of the few things she'd slow down for, to consider carefully. To blindly make a friend or to blindly agree to something, is asking for pain and disappointment. After all, if you know nothing about that personality, then how do you know you wouldn't want to have them bleeding at your feet within a few hours. That's right, you don't. Careful consideration is always important, even if it does make you seem standoffish and cold to others. Let them think what they'd like, makes no matter. Life will play out with or without them.
Opportunistic: This lady is also not someone to let a chance just slide by, unmolested. If it's something that will land her in favor in the future, she'll jump on it. It doesn't matter if it seems petty and greedy of her, after all, sometimes in life you have to take what's offered. If they didn't really want you to have it, they shouldn't of offered in the first place, now should they of? No. Honeyfur is also not a cheetah to feel ashamed of using others that let themselves be used. Then again, she's not one to let herself be ordered around by a junior member of the Clan, either. Point is, is she's not going to let a chance to raise her in status just walk on by, like some blind and dumb animal wandering about. Hell no, she'll take it down like nothing. Some do this, some don't, you don't like it, perhaps you should look the other way.
HISTORY...
Kithood- Born the only female in a litter of four, Honeyfur was born Honeykit to her mother, Gentlestep, and her father, Spottednose. Her brothers were all younger than her by a few minutes, much to her later delight. Honeykit, Palekit, Longkit, and Smallkit the four of them were. A litter, a family, and happy to boot. At least, that's what it was at first. Things change, though, don't you know? As the four of them grew, her brothers quickly growing larger than her, except for Smallkit, who was the runt of the littler, and often liked to pounce on her, tackle her, steal whatever toy she had made for herself. Quickly she learned that ears and tails made for good pain points when getting her brothers back. Her mother dotted on all four kits, and though their father was busy, he made time to tell them a story, or tell them good night. In her father's eyes, she was his baby, his daughter, his darling. She could do no wrong. Her mother, on the other hand, had taken Smallkit as her heart. If you honestly believe that parents don't pick and choose their offspring for favorites, your wrong, very wrong. Honeykit, who idolized her sire, often tried to stalk him around the camp, much to the amusement or ire of other clan members. Most of the time her father or mother would find her and send her back to her siblings, grumbling under her breath.
At five moons old, however, things shattered, and no amount of hoping and begging fixed things again. Her father died, apparently, he tried to take on a gazelle, and the buck got lucky. A puncture wound to the gut, ended her father, but not before letting him live in pain for almost a full moon. Her mother was upset, as were her brothers, but during the vigil held for him, she could only see the memories that she would have of him, and nothing more, never again. She didn't have long to grieve, for the next moon, she and her littermates were made into apprentices.
apprentice As Honeypaw, she had a mentor by the name of Kinktail. He was a handsome, good natured tom, with a severe kink in his tail that he had gotten as an apprentice. He told her that when running from stampeding hooved animals, to make sure her tail was well out of the way, unless she liked the look of a broken tail. They got on quite well, and she quickly picked up the lessons essential to become a warrior, something she had dreamed about ever since she was a tiny ball of fur, suckling from her mother. Her brothers who were also apprentices, often tended to practice their training on each other, as well as her, and they spent their free time sharing tongues and telling each other what they had learned and what they had done during the day. The kits had grown, and while two of her brothers were larger than her, Smallpaw was the same height as her, something she found rather amusing, much to his ire.
That leaf-bare, white cough, then green cough, took the camp. Honeypaw came down with white-cough, along with several other apprentices, including Smallpaw and Longpaw. Smallpaw took onto green-cough, while she and Longpaw recovered. Smallpaw died that leaf-bare, but the devastation of their mother. The three remaining siblings expected her to be distraught, but they did NOT expect her to seek comfort in Kinktail. Shock and anger were Honeypaw's first reactions, and her own brothers were initially angry, but mellowed once they saw that their mother was cared for by this other tom. Honeypaw, however, refused to speak to her mother, let alone her mentor. She spoke the bare minimum to him and her mother, and refused to listen to her brothers when they tried to make her see 'reason' about it. The hurt was deep, because after all, who wants to find out that their mother was in love with the feline that was supposed to be training her. This sort of thing was supposed to be unbiased. She never did forgive them for that transaction, and went through her training speaking when only spoken to.
Warrior: Like any apprentice who felt their training had been far too long, Honeypaw was excited to become a full warrior. The day came, and she was the first of her litter to become a warrior, Honeyfur. Her brother Longpaw was next, he became Longstride, and finally, their remaining brother, Palegaze. The three new warriors stayed close, though in time, they made friends, or friends became warriors. Honeyfur's life was simple and plain, her mother had another litter of cubs, two little scraps of fur she never bothered to get to know.
Almost four moons after she became a warrior, she met another warrior, by the name of Windsong. He was older than her, and he had a far better temper than she did, though he seemed to make up for her short comings when it came to that area. His voice, she can remember when she closes her eyes, and concentrates. It was like nothing else she's heard since, and she finds that a sincere loss for the world. You could say that they were mates, though they had no kits of there own. She honestly wasn't ready to be tied to the life of a queen for months, still too full of love for the life of a warrior. However, she missed her chance to have a piece of him forever. Her heart was killed when a bitter fight took place between a rogue who didn't know how to use his nose, and her love's patrol. The rogue wasn't seen nor scented again, but when Windsong's broken body was brought back to camp, she felt her soul shatter, ripping the rest of her to pieces.
She has had herself an apprentice, a rather shy young one by the name of Quickpaw. She found his skills and ability to learn rather interesting and pushed and tested him constantly, bringing him up to a standard that she approved of. Though she intimidated him beyond all reason, he did grow fond of her, and she saw him as more of a little brother. He grew and became a warrior in time, and she keeps an ear and an eye out for him, as he's long since fallen into 'her' pot of those she considers hers.
Since then she's closed herself up, and locked herself away. No need to let her wounded heart bleed all over the place, that's something nobody wants to hear about nor see. She keeps to herself nowdays, and often she tries to pretend her life hasn't happened the way it has.
