Post by abra on Jul 1, 2011 10:49:04 GMT -5
kivita
THE WORST IS OVER NOW, AND WE CAN BREATHE AGAIN
THE WORST IS OVER NOW, AND WE CAN BREATHE AGAIN
NAME... Kivita [kE-V-tuh]
AGE... 32 moons.
GENDER... Female
CLAN... Loner
POSITION... N/A
SPECIES... Bengal tiger
Adopted from Hazel
APPEARANCE...Like other tigers of her coloring, Kivita is larger than typically colored females of her species. This being a given, she moves delicately for her size. It's not that she's graceful, every feline is graceful, it's just that she sets her paws down in mind of where she's stepping, and depending, she tends to walk either very quickly, or take her time about it. She's also not overly muscular, just enough to get her through life, and let someone know that she really doesn't want to be bothered right then. These muscles reside beneath a white coat that's decorated with black, thick stripes. Now, unlike most lovely white tigers, her coat does have these points, where it appears that someone has taken their thumb, and smudged the black coloring onto her white coat, giving it a sooty look. The most prominent being on her face. Though this odd coloring also extends along her shoulders, lower legs, and her left side as well.
Her eyes are actually strange, at least, to her own mind they are. They're coloring are a very grey/blue color, with more gray than blue, but still, they' interesting and she wouldn't trade them for the world. Her nose is a bright pink color, like other tigers, though she does have a slight molting to it, random specks of dark color, easily seen against the light background. Now, she doesn't have any large scars, but she does have one along the back of her neck, from an incident that she'd rather not think about, received when she was a cub.
PERSONALITY...
Opinionated Kivita is not a tigress who will bow her head and play along with what you say, especially if she thinks your wrong. More, she'll tell you your wrong, and then tell you why your wrong. She likes a good argument when it remains within good humor or on the subject itself. She sees those that just happen to go along with whatever is said, and not see what's going on outside the bigger picture, and it frustrates her to no end. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart. When it comes to love or to hate, to tell someone what they must feel and for who they must feel it is stupid. After all, it's not your fault that you should fall for the 'wrong' person. Those that tell you that you did, are fools, and often she'll feel the need to step in on your behalf, something that can be rather foolish in some situations.
Independent: Kivita doesn't like being told what to do. She rather loathes it in fact. She also doesn't care to have to rely on someone else, to lean on someone else, to trust them with herself. She might rest with someone's body heat next to her for a short while, but sooner rather than later, she grows edgy and snappish with her company, tired of having them ask her things, trying to care for her, as if there were real affection for her. Truth is, she shies away from strong emotional attachments as well, they frighten her, and they make her more than just a little uncomfortable. She's seen what they can do to you, they can break you and hurt you, and honestly, she'd rather not go through that, even if every now and then the silence hurts more than any physical injury does. You learn to accept and adapt to such things, the question is how long would it take for one to break under such conditions.
Gentle: She has almost natural intentions to be gentle with others. She's seen the other end of the spectrum, the anger and rage of some, and the broken lives and bodies of those that cling to anger and violence. It doesn't turn her stomach, but it makes something in her desperately sad. Most assume that if you're naturally gentle, then you must have a motherly over tone, and those that are gentle by nature, find this an irritating assumption. She's never really been around kits, and therefore, she's not really sure how to handle them, how to act around them, though she's torn between walking away,and finding their caretaker. She also tends to not leave a critically injured feline alone, not until they die, or until they are able to walk away from her, and out pace her enough that she can't see them. To cause needless pain is revolting to her, and those that do have earned her endless scorn and disgust.
Wary of strangers: Most living creatures are, unless they're mentally impaired, or just plain stupid. Then again, in a Clan setting, you're surrounded by your fellows, and they have your back. In the kind of life that Kivita lives, a stranger could lead to some serious trouble, and it's to your benefit that you just give one another the ugly eye, and keep walking. After all, no one wants a confrontation that could easily hurt you too badly to hunt or defend yourself. Those that are too bold with strangers, or bold in general, make her jumpy and rather defensive. She's not going to be shy about how she'll try to take your face off if you come too close far too soon. She's not a tigress you want to risk your face on, because she'll take off, or at least try to keep space. Her space is hers, and if you don't understand that, then you'll soon learn. However, if she knows and likes you, touch is acceptable, though even then she's wary of physical contact. It's just something she's not used to.
Emotionally strong: This, aspect, of her personality developed through necessity, and it's her barrier, her wall of defense. After all, if you can't rely on yourself, then who the hell can you rely on? After realizing that no one was going to be there that first stormy night she suffered through, she took a long hard look at herself, and found herself lacking. That annoyance and dislike for the fear and stress she had felt the previous night welled in her, and she made a vow. She would make sure she had herself to stand on, her only true rock to stand upon, and weather through life on. Underneath this neat little facade, this little honest truth, she's really quite breakable, with the wrong word or action, you'll have her shattered, though if you know it is a different matter completely.
HISTORY...Kivita, was born to her mother, along with a vague memory of a sibling, of who she has no firm recollection about. She just knows that for the majority of her life, it was just her and her mother, trying to get a full belly and not run into too many confrontations, not easy when her dam had chosen the life of a rogue. Her mother was a rough but kind tigress, and she knew her mother only wanted to raise her cub, without having either of them killed, something that was often harder said than done. Kivita cannot tell you who her father is, neither can she tell you if he was a good creature at heart, or if he was simply in it for the feeling of affection, something that isn't all that uncommon.
Her youngest memories were simple ones, aggravating her mother, occasional tiffs between other loners, and them. The rogues scared her the most, considering that they were rather frighting cats, and she being as young as she was. She used to play with other kits, from other rogue queens, though those play dates were rare and often didn't last long. Her favorite memories were when she was just about to drift off to sleep, and her mother would tell her stories of her own life when she was her age, though a time or two there were some slips, where her mother would mention something like, she had a sibling too,when she was Kivita's age. This always struck her as strange. As she grew, in all of her relative youth, she knew one thing, she'd prefer to keep away from all these rogues, the air of danger the gave off made her fur prickle uncomfortably, and she often pondered on trading this life for the life of a loner, something she did, eventually.
Within the first few moons of her solitary life, she quickly learned how to use her nose to scent for other felines, especially after she got a warning blow from another tiger, who didn't care for her being on 'his' land. For a long time she wandered by herself, though there were a few times she met a tiger or two who she spent some time with. After awhile, being alone became lovely, something she rather enjoyed. After all, that meant she didn't have to look after someone else, or worry about someone. That sort of life is something someone can get addicted to, and she was a full blown addict, and proud of it. At roughly 27 moons of age, she saw her mother again, by complete accident.
She didn't know it was her mother until she whirled on her, teeth bared, snarl rumbling, and ears back. The tigress before her, immediately responded, putting herself between her and her two cubs, one orange, one white. It wasn't a warm and fuzzy reunion, but it was polite, and she discovered her two half siblings, both shy things around a tigress they didn't know. It's been awhile since she's seen her mother, and in fact, it was roughly a moon since she'd heard the whispers of Clans. She's headed in that direction, but the idea of becoming a member of a populated Clan makes her teeth itch, and she doubts she'll do something like that.
