Post by grimm on Dec 25, 2014 15:35:36 GMT -5
a d d e r s t e p
need to know
» clan: shadowclan, pro-starclan
» age: 58 moons.
» gender: tom
» rank: deputy
» status: healthy.
» mentor/apprentice: none, currently.
» description: a large, heavy tabby tom with pale green eyes.[/ul]
deeper
He is after all a warrior cat, and considering how the clans have been as of late, he has more then earned the scars on him. Notable ones would be the ones alongside the left side of his cheek and on his right, front leg. His fur has begun to grow around the scars, so unless someone is looking very closely, or sharing tongues, - he rarely allows it with anyone he doesn't deem close, - they can take them in all they wanted.
However, the most defining feature would have to be his face. Adderstep could be considered handsome, in a plain sort of way, if he wasn't scowling all the time. He always seems irritated when one looks at him, and the few times he doesn't, he just looks lost in thought, though one wouldn't say that to his face. He always glares, eye lids low over his pale green eyes, and just staring distastefully at everything as if he was surrounded by idiots, which to him, he usually is.
» personality: Adderstep, to sum it up, is an angry old tom.
There's no other way to put it. At one point, he might have been a happy go lucky, frolicking kit, but it seemed he grew older a lot quicker then the other kits in the nursery. His mother, while caring of her kittens, was not one to coddle them too much after they could walk and talk by themselves. Adderkit the first among them to do just that, he was full of questions, but hardly ever asked. More so, not because he didn't want to, but because his sisters always asked for him. From this, he learned to keep quiet and listen to see what he could learn, before broaching a subject many forgot to ask about.
Smart, the tom is a battle ready machine. More like acting as a tank, he's the first cat into the fray, taking all he can down with him, but it's not without thought. He looks for weak cats, those favouring a leg or a paw. He knows to take them down swiftly. Just like his battle tactics, the tom is harsh and sharp tongue, and he is known for his distasteful and disappointed stares in his fellow clan mates when they do something wrong.
He's especially disappointed when said clan mates taken upon themselves not to follow the rules as they are supposed to. Honour driven, he is very much a believer in Starclan, and he finds any one who doesn't do by the rules disgraceful. Their warrior ancestors look after them, and that's all he needs to know. However, that does not stop the fact that he feels unsettled by Starclan's silence. It weighs heavily on him and he truly wonders what could have been brought forth with this sudden quiet.
There seem to be very few things that make this tom cat happy and that seems, aside from a few close friends, to kits. He finds them adorable, their innocence, and their playfulness a bright spark in these dark times. When he passes the nursery, he can't help but duck his head in to peer at the small bundles of fluff, and well, if the queens see him smile, they keep quiet knowingly. Occasionally, he takes to the kittens that are brought out of the nursery into the open air and looks them over, always under watchful eyes from their mothers.
They ask him questions sometimes, and he answers them quietly, in his low rumble of a voice, and keeps them occupied when he is not busy as rare as that is. In his mind, they are the future, and they will one day be the she-cat at his left, the tom on his right, that stand and fight beside him.
» background: Born from Weaselfang and Crowfall, Adderkit was the only male out of the litter, named after their leader, Adderstar. His sisters, Briarkit, Ceaderkit, and Pheasentkit, and him were handsome little creatures, taking after their parents beautifully. However, Weaselfang, as stated, was not a mother who kept her kittens by her side all the time. She looked after them until they could walk about on their own, after their eyes had opened, and then, let them do as they will, with a few choice rules.
The kits were curious little things, however, Adderkit's sisters were more vocal then he was. He let them spout off their questions to the passing warriors when their mother was busy sunning herself or chatting with the other queens, and learned from them as they were given their answers. He was a quiet sort of kitten, but as the eldest, he was also respected by his sisters. They grew to their apprentices years as per usual, and too up the mantle of 'paw', and Adderkit was given his mentor, a feisty she-cat by the name of Russetfur. She was quick and elegant she-cat, but was fierce and dangerous in ways he could only hope to be. As he was taught and he grew, Russetfur realized, aside from the basic fighting and hunting teqniques, there were certain things she could just not teach him. He grew into himself, full-bodied and powerful, and so, she tried to teach him what she knew of a harder, heavier hitting style.
To say the least, it wasn't as easy as she thought.
However, he grew and proved his merit, learning all he could to become the best he could be and live up to his namesake. Adderstar was a cat he could only dreamed of becoming, and he found the tom the perfect role model in his mind. However, when he took up the mantle of Adderstep, his warrior name, he could not do much but mourn, as his mother Weaselfang had died from wounds she had received from a hunting accident. Crowfall, with his daughters and son, had mourned her that night, and from then on, the family seemed to drift away, as if their well-meaning, but cool mother had been keeping them together.
Border patrols, hunting patrols, and the occasional sparring with his clan mates had Adderstep gaining more and more scars as he grew older. Among those times he met Shrikefang, who after a few disagreements and angry sparring matches, became a close friend and confident to him, and he to Shrikefang. He still met with his sisters some evenings, sharing tongues with them to connect, but he grew distant from them, taking more time for the patrols, for the clan, and to his close friend. .The air between clans felt tenser, and he didn't like it at all as he heard more and more of the other clan's members dying through the meetings at four trees. It if there was something rotten in the air, and it was slowly approaching.
His father was respectfully taken out of warrior status when, during a border patrol, he had been blinded by another cat's claws. He survived his wounds, but blind, he could do nothing but stay within the boundaries of the camp. Adderstep still came to him however, to talk and to fend off the old tom's loneliness, asking his advice on how he thought his apprentice had been faring. Duckpaw had been named his by Adderstar and he took care to not be too harsh on the young tom. He trained as he could, and when he was finally named Duckflight, he was as proud as any mentor. However, it seemed that whatever was happening with the other clans had reached their own, and Adderstar grew ill and passed on. Everyone mourned the leader's death, and in his place, Shrikestar, who had become a deputy quite a few moons prior, named Adderstep his new deputy.
Feeling incredibly humbled, he accepted the role, and felt his heart sing at the shouts of his clan members at his new rank. His sister's voices were the loudest.
The days that slowly began to be realized as the beginning of Starclan's silence, Adderstep was busy with his work to set up patrols and take care of his clan when he could. He offered advice when his friend and leader asked for it, and continued on. But when it was understood that there was no word from any of the clans that they spoke with Starclan, an unsettled feeling began to grow in the back of his mind.
He had always been a fierce believer of Starclan, listening to the old tales of the passed cats, of larger felines with broad stripes and fierce manes, and he felt so very small under the weight of the sky. He found it almost comforting, that weight, and so, when the silence descended, he felt it as hard as the medicine cats.
However, the bloodbath at Fourtrees seemed to solidify that nagging feeling in the back of his head, and he gained his right shoulder scar from that very battle. With it, his mood seemed to dampen and grow worse with the world, and his tongue, usually stern and even, grew harsher and fiercer, to the point that even Duckflight recoiled and flinched, keeping his ears down around him. Shrikestar seemed to be the only one to keep him sane.
However, the true smack to his face was when the disbelievers, the rebels, began to pour out from their ranks, and among them, two of his sisters, Briarthorn and Ceaderfur, had called him out on his blind faith, and they fought amongst their nonbelievers against the main bulk of Shadowclan. Adderstep was scarred across his face during this. Pheasentear was wounded in the skirmish and died of her wounds a few nights after the rebels were sent from Shadowclan, and he mourned the loss of his sweet sister, the quiet and gentle one, and he felt himself put up even more barriers up.
Glaring and snarling at everything but his father, his leader, and the kits that came up to him, outside of patrol set ups, the tom found himself growing more and more withdrawn. He felt betrayed by his sisters, betrayed by his faith, and confused about their silence.
The silence was worst of all, he supposed. [/ul]
immediate kin
» sons: none.
» daughters: none.[/ul]
extended kin
» mother:
» brothers: none.
» sisters: Briarthorn, Ceaderfur,
(this was like, major long. sorry. 8U)[/ul][/font]