Dark Whiskers

[DARK WHISKERS]

Name: Dark Whiskers

Age: 45 Moons

Gender: Male

Rank: Leader

Appearance:

Dark Whiskers's pelt is pitch black, but it turns dark brown in the sun. He has long black whiskers and dark golden eyes. His fur is soft and although he is average-sized he isn't very muscular.

Personality: Dark Whiskers is a good leader. He cares about all the cats in the group and is always listening to what his cats want. He is very kind and doesn't even like killing prey, never mind other cats, and prefers to eat grass and fruit. He is quiet and spends as much time alone as he does with the Clan. Dark Whiskers is a very curious cat, and likes to explore the territories beyond where his fellow cats normally go. Sometimes he can seem a little odd, but he is easy to like.

Family: His parents are named Burning Frond and Crow's Talon. He has one littermate, Cherry Leaf, who disappeared when they were twelve moons old.

History: Dark Whiskers was born into the group of his cats along with his sister Cherry Leaf. His parents were very caring towards their kits, and they had a very peaceful and happy kithood. When they were old enough they became softpaws, and learned the skills they would need to survive on their own and become sharpclaws. Dark Whiskers proudly made it through the tunnels and became a sharpclaw, but unfortunately Cherry Leaf got lost in the tunnels and never found her way back to the other cats. Dark Whiskers was very sad but eventually he had to move on. When the old leader, Mossy Stone, retired, the cats chose Dark Whiskers to take his place. Since then he has tried his best to do his duties as leader and keep the group of cats together.

Roleplay Sample: A dry, golden-brown leaf spiraled downwards, blown off its tree by the wind like many others. Swirling and twisting in the air, it made a slow descent until it came to rest on the floor of a cave, between a pair of fluffy black paws. The paws belonged to a cat, who was a member of the Clan of cats living in these woods. He jumped up as another leaf blew towards him, stretching out his forepaws to bat the leaf out of the air. Playing with leaves was considered a kitlike thing to do by his Clan, and the cat was a full-grown warrior, but why not have a little fun while he was alone? Being alone made the cat forget the fact that he looked different from the other cats. While he was the only one there, he felt normal. Skymoor, as he was called, was very loyal to his Clan, but he didn't like how some cats stared at him, or thought he was weird. Of course not every single cat thought about his difference every time they saw him; his silly adoptive father, Sungrass, never cared at all. He knew better than to judge cats by their appearance. You see, what was different about Skymoor, was the large furry wings sprouting from his back. They were useless, but in a way Skymoor liked them. He was different, but that wasn't always a bad thing. It was unique. Special. Lost in his thoughts, Skymoor didn't notice a cat approaching until the leaves lying at the entrance to the cave crackled. Startled, Skymoor looked up at the newcomer.

Other: None.