Post by crowfrost on Mar 25, 2012 20:36:20 GMT -5
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[tr][td][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-top: 10px;][classy=title]appearance[/classy][classy=text]small black tom with blue eyes
To look at him, you wouldn't say Crowfrost was impressive in the slightest. He is a small, rather scrawny tom that at best is an average warrior. Look him in the face and you'll find Crowfrost's true defining feature and your first hint to his personality, his eyes. From the day he was able to open his eyes, Crowfrost has had clear blue eyes that could stop a badger in its tracks when he gets to glaring, which is his favorite expression. His gaze is hard and as sharp as a razor's edge. Very few will dare to lie straight to Crowfrost's face when he forced them to meet his gaze and not a whole lot of cats and easily read his moods or expressions from his gaze. Overall however, he is a cat graced with a handsome face once you get past his icy gaze. The blue stands out sharply against the sleek black of his pelt. On his chest there is a dab of white but otherwise, Crowfrost is an unbroken black. Even his nose and the insides of his ears are black! Size-wise, he's not an impressively large tom, neither tall nor heavily muscled. Instead StarClan graced Crowfrost with a lithe, small frame that is whipcord strong. His light weight makes him swift and agile, able to dodge and evade his enemies with ease. When he runs, it's like he sprouts wings on his paws because his lightness also makes him swift. Unhindered but unnecessary muscle mass, Crowfrost has nothing holding him down when he runs or climbs. In a fight he stays on his toes, dancing out of his enemy's path and more or less letting them wear themselves down before going at them with his needle-sharp claws. He is however, a cat that likes to keep clean. If he can help it, Crowfrost will never be found muddy or otherwise filthy. He keeps his pelt in a constant state of cleanliness so that it always has a healthy shimmer to it almost like light on dark feathers.[/classy]
[classy=title]personality[/classy][classy=text]If you are looking for a friend or confidant, keep looking. Crowfrost is by no means a friendly feline. He likes his space and often goes a whole day without talking just because he's not a big talker. To him, words hide lies. Anyone can lie with words and he believes much more in actions. So, he spends a lot of time observing. When Crowfrost does get it in him to give orders or speak to someone, it isn't often friendly. Compliments seldom pass this tom's lips. More often than not, instead you'll be greeted with a sharp order or grumpy snarl. The more tired he is, the worse this becomes. He is certainly not a cat you want to wake unless it is important. If no one is dying, the territory isn't on fire or the need isn't dire, don't waste your time. All you'll get for your trouble is a face full of Crowfrost's claws. As a leader, Crowfrost is fantastic at keeping order and putting himself above chaotic situations to see clearly through the confusion. He can absorb many things at once, process them and then find the best course of action through it all. A cunning tactician, Crowfrost favors the use of shadows and darkness when spying or patrols must be done, most likely since it favors his own dark coloring.
Crwofrost does understand suffering and he does know he's sometimes a touch too cruel but he refuses to change. He believes quite firmly that if someone is going to complain about his cold or too honest manner then they don't deserve to be a warrior. Criticisms are given to make you better, no matter how mean it may sound. Crowfrost would never waste his breath on a petty insult unless it was truly someone he despised. Instead he observes and finds what someone is doing wrong such as a stance or fighting move and tell them, perhaps a bit briskly, how to correct it. He'll then sit there as long as it takes to see them do it right.
As far as getting close to Crowfrost, it takes a long time. It also takes a special kind of cat. Crowfrost offers respect as he sees it due but is not above giving it. Medicine cats perhaps have the best chance of Crowfrost's respect because of all they do for the clan. It takes persistance and a certain understanding to get to know Crowfrost. You have to be willing to put up with his grumpiness and learn to see the more subtle emotions hiding in the dark tom. Once you do, you'll find Crowfrost isn't as guarded as he seems, nor as icy. There are subtle aspects of him that speak of a devoted deputy, mentor and friend in the long run. Stand by Crowfrost and Crowfrost will stand by you because once you break through him and become accepted as a part of Crowfrost's life, he will support you just as you support him. His glares won't cut so deeply, he'll only huff when you decide to join him for a hunt and he'll keep his claws sheathed if you curl up in a nest beside him. That's how you know you've finally gotten to him. True, these ways are subtle but they're the ways that count.[/classy][classy=title]history[/classy][classy=text]In the beginning, there were two ShadowClan warriors. They weren't famous and they weren't exceptional. They were average and that was fine with them. They're names were Ravenfeather and Smokestripe, a lovely sleek black she-cat and a handsome gray tabby tom. Together they welcomed three kits into the world and named them Nightkit, Hazekit and Crowkit. From the start, Crowkit was a bit of a loner. He was the smallest kit but never hesitated to give his brothers a nose full of thorn-sharp claws if they deserved it and soon the other two learned to leave him be. Crowkit would spend his time exploring on his own or just sitting off to the side watching everyone as they wandered past the nursery. He listened with only mild interest to elder tales but he obeyed his parents well enough to be considered a good kit. Leaf-bare rolled around when Crowkit was about four moons old and he and his siblings fell ill with whitecough. The medicine cat at the time took them into her den to care for them and in the end only Crowkit and Nightkit survived. From then on, Crowkit always had an instinctual respect for medicine cats.
When he and his brother had recovered, Crowkit and Nightkit were apprenticed at six moons old, Crowpaw when to in some ways his perfect match. The tom's name was Cloudfang. He was a tall, long-furred white tom with only one green eye that seldom did anything but glare. Crowpaw was in for the apprenticeship of his life and actually still uses some of Cloudfang's techniques on his own apprentices. He spent long days from dawn til well after dusk training. Sometimes he'd spend an entire day repeating one single move until he did it to Cloudfang's satisfaction which was a very high standard indeed. Cloudfang built up Crowpaw's strengths at being agile and quick instead of muscular and large since he obviously lacked size. Often Cloudfang would steal Nightpaw from his own mentor and make the two spar since Nightpaw was significantly bigger than Crowpaw. Though the moons were long and often exhausting, they were some of the best times of Crowpaw's life because he enjoys working and training and deep down he knows Cloudfang was rough on him for his own good.
At sixteen moons, Crowpaw stood before the clan leader and became Crowfrost with Cloudfang smirking in the background. Not long after, at about twenty moons, Crowfrost was given his first apprentice, a little ginger she-kit named Peachpaw. She was Crowfrost's total opposite, sweet as could be, patient and soft-spoken. Her mentor had been a she-cat named Mossdapple that succumbed to an infected badger bite. So, Crowfrost had to take over Peachpaw's apprenticeship when she was about nine moons old and from the get go he found it difficult. She wasn't like anyone he'd had to deal with before. She was obedient to a fault, as shy as could be and didn't seem bothered when he lost his temper a few times. By the end of her training, Crowfrost found a sort of common ground with Peachpaw, reining in his rather abrasive personality but still managing to bring out a little self-confidence in the ginger she-cat. She eventually became Peachpelt and left Crowfrost's care though he still occasionally will hunt or patrol with her.
At twenty-seven moons, in the midst of training his second apprentice, a tom named Stonepaw, Crowfrost joined the clan for a meeting. Unexpectedly, the clan deputy was laid out in the clearing, brought in by a patrol that had found him dead along the ShadowClan-SkyClan border. The leader was naturally furious but was forced to chose a new deputy. To everyone's surprise, Crowfrost was chosen. At first it took him a while to get used to the new authority but with time, he fell into the role with relative ease. Just half a moon ago however, Crowfrost was reminded that SkyClan could mean trouble when Stonepaw was also found dead near the border. Now Crowfrost often stalks the border, prowling for signs of SkyClan trying to murder ShadowClan cats. He hadn't been enraged quite like the others when the former deputy died but when someone dared slay his own apprentice, Crowfrost made it his business to keep a close eye on SkyClan.
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[classy=title]other[/classy][classy=text]The moon was half full and the sky empty of clouds. Dots of stars glittered down on the frosty land below. It was bitterly cold, sending warriors and prey alike heading for their warm nests. All but one warrior of course. Moonlight filtered through the foliage and fell across one specific shadow crouched on the bank of a narrow icy stream. For a long while, the shadow didn't move. A fine layer of frost glittered over the feline's cat, only jewel-bright light blue eyes gave it away as a living being. How long Crowfrost had crouched on that stream bank glaring across into SkyClan territory, he'd long forgotten. Had he been there since sunset or just before? A bit after maybe? It wasn't important really. He knew he couldn't stay here all night. He had to rise early to lead a dawn patrol down to the lake and make sure a few hunting patrols got out on time. Leaf-bare was coming and the clan needed to be fed. If nothing else, this blasted cold and glinting frost were warning enough of that fact and it was a fact Crowfrost couldn't ignore as clan deputy. No matter what his personal vendettas were, they couldn't get in the way of caring for the clan. Stonepaw was dead and gone, watching over ShadowClan from StarClan. Whoever had killed him had vanished with him and as much as he wanted to, Crowfrost knew that his current approach wouldn't get him anywhere. Unless he outright accused SkyClan of harboring his apprentice's murderer, a bad move right there, he would probably never know who'd slain his apprentice.
Light blue eyes turned toward the star speckled sky, faint pinpricks of light reflecting in his narrowed gaze. Stonepaw was up there somewhere, right alongside Crowfrost's old mentor. They'd probably both be frowning at him for wasting his time when he knew he wouldn't get anywhere this way. That thought in mind, the dark tom straightened up from his hours-long crouch. Muscles stiffened by cold and time protested as he stretched but Crowfrost paid it no heed. Casting one last glare toward the SkyClan border, the deputy turned back toward ShadowClan and slid into the darkness with barely a whisper of sound to indicate his passing.[/classy]
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| [atrb=width,450,true][th][atrb=valign,center][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding: 4px;][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,4,true] crowfrost, [age=06/18/2010] - TOM - SHADOWCLAN - DEPUTY |
[tr][td][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,padding-top: 10px;][classy=title]appearance[/classy][classy=text]small black tom with blue eyes
To look at him, you wouldn't say Crowfrost was impressive in the slightest. He is a small, rather scrawny tom that at best is an average warrior. Look him in the face and you'll find Crowfrost's true defining feature and your first hint to his personality, his eyes. From the day he was able to open his eyes, Crowfrost has had clear blue eyes that could stop a badger in its tracks when he gets to glaring, which is his favorite expression. His gaze is hard and as sharp as a razor's edge. Very few will dare to lie straight to Crowfrost's face when he forced them to meet his gaze and not a whole lot of cats and easily read his moods or expressions from his gaze. Overall however, he is a cat graced with a handsome face once you get past his icy gaze. The blue stands out sharply against the sleek black of his pelt. On his chest there is a dab of white but otherwise, Crowfrost is an unbroken black. Even his nose and the insides of his ears are black! Size-wise, he's not an impressively large tom, neither tall nor heavily muscled. Instead StarClan graced Crowfrost with a lithe, small frame that is whipcord strong. His light weight makes him swift and agile, able to dodge and evade his enemies with ease. When he runs, it's like he sprouts wings on his paws because his lightness also makes him swift. Unhindered but unnecessary muscle mass, Crowfrost has nothing holding him down when he runs or climbs. In a fight he stays on his toes, dancing out of his enemy's path and more or less letting them wear themselves down before going at them with his needle-sharp claws. He is however, a cat that likes to keep clean. If he can help it, Crowfrost will never be found muddy or otherwise filthy. He keeps his pelt in a constant state of cleanliness so that it always has a healthy shimmer to it almost like light on dark feathers.[/classy]
[classy=title]personality[/classy][classy=text]If you are looking for a friend or confidant, keep looking. Crowfrost is by no means a friendly feline. He likes his space and often goes a whole day without talking just because he's not a big talker. To him, words hide lies. Anyone can lie with words and he believes much more in actions. So, he spends a lot of time observing. When Crowfrost does get it in him to give orders or speak to someone, it isn't often friendly. Compliments seldom pass this tom's lips. More often than not, instead you'll be greeted with a sharp order or grumpy snarl. The more tired he is, the worse this becomes. He is certainly not a cat you want to wake unless it is important. If no one is dying, the territory isn't on fire or the need isn't dire, don't waste your time. All you'll get for your trouble is a face full of Crowfrost's claws. As a leader, Crowfrost is fantastic at keeping order and putting himself above chaotic situations to see clearly through the confusion. He can absorb many things at once, process them and then find the best course of action through it all. A cunning tactician, Crowfrost favors the use of shadows and darkness when spying or patrols must be done, most likely since it favors his own dark coloring.
Crwofrost does understand suffering and he does know he's sometimes a touch too cruel but he refuses to change. He believes quite firmly that if someone is going to complain about his cold or too honest manner then they don't deserve to be a warrior. Criticisms are given to make you better, no matter how mean it may sound. Crowfrost would never waste his breath on a petty insult unless it was truly someone he despised. Instead he observes and finds what someone is doing wrong such as a stance or fighting move and tell them, perhaps a bit briskly, how to correct it. He'll then sit there as long as it takes to see them do it right.
As far as getting close to Crowfrost, it takes a long time. It also takes a special kind of cat. Crowfrost offers respect as he sees it due but is not above giving it. Medicine cats perhaps have the best chance of Crowfrost's respect because of all they do for the clan. It takes persistance and a certain understanding to get to know Crowfrost. You have to be willing to put up with his grumpiness and learn to see the more subtle emotions hiding in the dark tom. Once you do, you'll find Crowfrost isn't as guarded as he seems, nor as icy. There are subtle aspects of him that speak of a devoted deputy, mentor and friend in the long run. Stand by Crowfrost and Crowfrost will stand by you because once you break through him and become accepted as a part of Crowfrost's life, he will support you just as you support him. His glares won't cut so deeply, he'll only huff when you decide to join him for a hunt and he'll keep his claws sheathed if you curl up in a nest beside him. That's how you know you've finally gotten to him. True, these ways are subtle but they're the ways that count.[/classy][classy=title]history[/classy][classy=text]In the beginning, there were two ShadowClan warriors. They weren't famous and they weren't exceptional. They were average and that was fine with them. They're names were Ravenfeather and Smokestripe, a lovely sleek black she-cat and a handsome gray tabby tom. Together they welcomed three kits into the world and named them Nightkit, Hazekit and Crowkit. From the start, Crowkit was a bit of a loner. He was the smallest kit but never hesitated to give his brothers a nose full of thorn-sharp claws if they deserved it and soon the other two learned to leave him be. Crowkit would spend his time exploring on his own or just sitting off to the side watching everyone as they wandered past the nursery. He listened with only mild interest to elder tales but he obeyed his parents well enough to be considered a good kit. Leaf-bare rolled around when Crowkit was about four moons old and he and his siblings fell ill with whitecough. The medicine cat at the time took them into her den to care for them and in the end only Crowkit and Nightkit survived. From then on, Crowkit always had an instinctual respect for medicine cats.
When he and his brother had recovered, Crowkit and Nightkit were apprenticed at six moons old, Crowpaw when to in some ways his perfect match. The tom's name was Cloudfang. He was a tall, long-furred white tom with only one green eye that seldom did anything but glare. Crowpaw was in for the apprenticeship of his life and actually still uses some of Cloudfang's techniques on his own apprentices. He spent long days from dawn til well after dusk training. Sometimes he'd spend an entire day repeating one single move until he did it to Cloudfang's satisfaction which was a very high standard indeed. Cloudfang built up Crowpaw's strengths at being agile and quick instead of muscular and large since he obviously lacked size. Often Cloudfang would steal Nightpaw from his own mentor and make the two spar since Nightpaw was significantly bigger than Crowpaw. Though the moons were long and often exhausting, they were some of the best times of Crowpaw's life because he enjoys working and training and deep down he knows Cloudfang was rough on him for his own good.
At sixteen moons, Crowpaw stood before the clan leader and became Crowfrost with Cloudfang smirking in the background. Not long after, at about twenty moons, Crowfrost was given his first apprentice, a little ginger she-kit named Peachpaw. She was Crowfrost's total opposite, sweet as could be, patient and soft-spoken. Her mentor had been a she-cat named Mossdapple that succumbed to an infected badger bite. So, Crowfrost had to take over Peachpaw's apprenticeship when she was about nine moons old and from the get go he found it difficult. She wasn't like anyone he'd had to deal with before. She was obedient to a fault, as shy as could be and didn't seem bothered when he lost his temper a few times. By the end of her training, Crowfrost found a sort of common ground with Peachpaw, reining in his rather abrasive personality but still managing to bring out a little self-confidence in the ginger she-cat. She eventually became Peachpelt and left Crowfrost's care though he still occasionally will hunt or patrol with her.
At twenty-seven moons, in the midst of training his second apprentice, a tom named Stonepaw, Crowfrost joined the clan for a meeting. Unexpectedly, the clan deputy was laid out in the clearing, brought in by a patrol that had found him dead along the ShadowClan-SkyClan border. The leader was naturally furious but was forced to chose a new deputy. To everyone's surprise, Crowfrost was chosen. At first it took him a while to get used to the new authority but with time, he fell into the role with relative ease. Just half a moon ago however, Crowfrost was reminded that SkyClan could mean trouble when Stonepaw was also found dead near the border. Now Crowfrost often stalks the border, prowling for signs of SkyClan trying to murder ShadowClan cats. He hadn't been enraged quite like the others when the former deputy died but when someone dared slay his own apprentice, Crowfrost made it his business to keep a close eye on SkyClan.
[/classy]
[classy=title]other[/classy][classy=text]The moon was half full and the sky empty of clouds. Dots of stars glittered down on the frosty land below. It was bitterly cold, sending warriors and prey alike heading for their warm nests. All but one warrior of course. Moonlight filtered through the foliage and fell across one specific shadow crouched on the bank of a narrow icy stream. For a long while, the shadow didn't move. A fine layer of frost glittered over the feline's cat, only jewel-bright light blue eyes gave it away as a living being. How long Crowfrost had crouched on that stream bank glaring across into SkyClan territory, he'd long forgotten. Had he been there since sunset or just before? A bit after maybe? It wasn't important really. He knew he couldn't stay here all night. He had to rise early to lead a dawn patrol down to the lake and make sure a few hunting patrols got out on time. Leaf-bare was coming and the clan needed to be fed. If nothing else, this blasted cold and glinting frost were warning enough of that fact and it was a fact Crowfrost couldn't ignore as clan deputy. No matter what his personal vendettas were, they couldn't get in the way of caring for the clan. Stonepaw was dead and gone, watching over ShadowClan from StarClan. Whoever had killed him had vanished with him and as much as he wanted to, Crowfrost knew that his current approach wouldn't get him anywhere. Unless he outright accused SkyClan of harboring his apprentice's murderer, a bad move right there, he would probably never know who'd slain his apprentice.
Light blue eyes turned toward the star speckled sky, faint pinpricks of light reflecting in his narrowed gaze. Stonepaw was up there somewhere, right alongside Crowfrost's old mentor. They'd probably both be frowning at him for wasting his time when he knew he wouldn't get anywhere this way. That thought in mind, the dark tom straightened up from his hours-long crouch. Muscles stiffened by cold and time protested as he stretched but Crowfrost paid it no heed. Casting one last glare toward the SkyClan border, the deputy turned back toward ShadowClan and slid into the darkness with barely a whisper of sound to indicate his passing.[/classy]
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