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Post by survvie on Jan 22, 2011 12:37:21 GMT -8
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Why do you shun me for who I am?
FOR I AM ERMINEHEART
of the great AshClan
Age Four years, six moons
Gender Tom
Rank Medicine Cat
How can I hide in the shadows of the unknown?
WHEN MY PELT IS WHITE
and my eyes are BLUE
Scars
Appearance Ermineheart is a relatively average sized cat built more for running or climbing than fighting. His fur is thick and shaggy, colored as blank white as new snowfall. Different points around his body are a pallid pink shade on the skin, giving him a very flowery and pale appearance. His ears- large, and triangular- are tilted at just the right angle upon his head, the pink seashell-like hearing appendages bringing color to his otherwise light appearance. His legs are long and end in pinkish paws, complete with the long and battle-worthy claws of a wild cat. He has a long, fluffy tail that aids in balance on the rare occasions he'll attempt to climb anything higher than a hill. He has an odd appearance for an ashclan cat- lightly colored, thickly furred, and brighter than most of his shadow-dwelling clanmates- but as he only leaves camp for gatherings and medicine cat duties, it isn't usually a problem. The most beautiful trait about this cat, however, isn't his fur, nor is it the pinkish points of his breed- the Turkish angora. His most drawing feature are the large, bright blue eyes that tilt at slight angles upon his face. His eyes are a startling shade of blue, somewhat between the sky, and pooling water, but despite their lovely appearance... they are useless. He cannot see anything at all, be it cat, forest, or shadows. But despite his sightlessness, Ermineheart's eyes seem to function to those who are speaking to or watching him- they move, stare, and gaze as any would... they just return to him no picture of whatever he is trying to see.
Why do you judge me for what I’ll become? JUST BECAUSE I’M CHEERFUL AND KIND
Personality Ermineheart is no enigma to Ashclan society, despite his appearance signaling him out among his clanmates. He is a quiet and silent being, who despite his lack of sight, seems to move and turn with a lack of noise, as his fellow cats do. He does have one odd quirk compared to his eternally wordless fellow clan members- he speaks quite a lot, as if words fill in for him what he cannot see. While he does not blabber on, or let endless chatter flow from his mouth, words are a comfort to the feline, and he tries to get the ashclan cats to speak to him as much as they can, about as many a topics as he can shake out of his quiet clan. He never seems to be sad or depressed about anything, and acts more cheery than even the most excitable kit. It seems to be an unwritten rule that this medicine cat shouldn't speak of his disability, as he has never been caught talking about his lack of sight, and often reflects any questions thrown his way about the subject with a polite and diplomatic air.
Ermineheart is a very kind creature, going to great lengths to keep his patients and those around him as comfortable as possible. He likes to be prepared as well, so he can often be seen darting out to stock up on herbs, often leaving too fast to notify anyone of his absence or to acquire an escort for himself. He is very careless in this aspect however, for though his other senses are incredibly honed, a lack of sight makes him blind to predators, and he has gotten into many a sticky situation through this method. Despite his lack of caution in traveling about, Ermineheart is a peaceable and happy creature whose sole goal seems to be keeping his clan- rather than himself- in tiptop condition.
Preferences
Likes; Sound, chatter, his clan, traveling, hunting for herbs, kits, new scents, being talked to, cold weather, gatherings, talking to starclan, as he can see during such experiences.
Dislikes; Being treated as helpless, questions about his sight, being incapable of doing anything because of his disability, liars, completely silent cats, swimming.
Secret Ambitions To be able to see, though he knows it is impossible. He also has this secret goal of being the greatest medicine cat Ashclan has ever seen.
Strengths/Weaknesses
Strengths; Being a medicine cat, words, finding herbs, healing. His sense of hearing and smell is abnormally sharper than your average cats.
Weaknesses; Travel, swimming, climbing (doesn't stop him from doing it, however.), he is a tad too nice for his own good, and he is incredibly carefree.
How am I punished for what my kin has done?
EVEN IF MY PARENTS ARE STOATWHISKER AND OTTERTAIL
Family None who are currently alive.
Event that Lead to being a Warrior He was born into Ashclan with his disability, and was mentored by the previous medicine cat, Minnowheart, who had seen talent behind the sightless eyes.
History Ermineheart was born the sole living kitten of Stoatwhisker and Ottertail, a pair of warriors whose home and loyalties lay within Ashclan. He remembers from a young age that he had three other siblings, but they were born without a spark of life. His first memories were of the wailing of his mother, the comforting words of his father, and the warmth of both laying beside him. The birthplace had smelled of milk and warm bodies, as it did to all who had been born in their respective nurseries. He remembered the cooing of his parents to their stark white, solitary kitten, the promises the two made to each-other to keep him alive no matter the cost. He remembers, even, being named by the mourning though happy pair- Erminekit. Ermine to match his blank color, the pallid white that matched the patching on his mother, and the paws of his father.
The happy couple had no idea he was sightless until the moment his odd blue eyes opened, and the medicine cat of the time checked him over. There was no reaction to any movement in front of those big blue eyes... the kitten remained as still and cautiously aware as he had always been. There was more wailing and sad feelings in the air upon this discovery, but as before it was shaken off quite soon. He was their only kit- what did sight matter? He could get along without it.
Ermineheart knew from that point on that he was 'different'. His entire world was inky black- there was no speck of color, though voices, and the pictures that smell created for him gave him a partial, though inaccurate and unpredictable vision of his world. He grew as all kits did under the guidance of his parents, until he hit the apprenticing age and was apprenticed to the medicine cat who had visited him so many times during his kit-hood- Minnowheart. He had been told he would learn herbs, and the art of healing. He was told he must learn every plant and berry by scent, taste, and feel- and that he must become a master in differentiating, as he had no eyes to tell the differences for him. His apprentice-hood was full of rigorous training in the way of the medicine cat, and the odd battle training that he utterly detested on such occasions. He grew into an adult away from most other cats. Felines his age tended to shy away from the odd bright feline, sticking to their siblings and nursery-mates rather than bridging the gap to form a bond with an oddity who had begun and lived life up until that point with few around him. This, however, didn't stop the young medicine cat apprentice from learning all in his clan by smell.
Minnowheart died of old age when Ermineheart hit fourteen moons. Ermineheart, while the ceremony passing him over into his former teachers spot, requested of his leader to make the ending portion of his name into -heart, as a memory of his teacher, who he loved like a third parent. This was allowed, and Ermineheart, at such a young age, became the Ashclan medicine cat.
It has been many, many moons since that time, and Ermineheart has mastered his rank and learned the traits and differentiating scents of all within his clan. He spends his days out foraging to keep his stocks as high as he can, or gliding around camp, checking on other cats, peeking in on kits and mothers, and telling the occasional story- or listening to those told by the elders- to the apprentices.
Sample RP
[It isn't a warriors excerpt, it is from another roleplay of mine, but I can retrieve a warriors example if required.]
It was quiet that day.
Silent as death, though death herself was far away, attending to business on the other end of the world.
It was dark as well, the setting sun casting lopsided shadows across the flat ground. Dried and cracked dirt canals marked where water once flowed, though the clear blue-ish liquid had long since disappeared from the terrain. The grass that had previously been green and springy was growing brittle and yellower by the day, and frost accumulated on the bare patches of ground, drawn there by the fallen dewdrops. This was truly no place for a foal.
Or two.
"Envy! Find us food, I'm sick of this yellow grass, it tastes worse than pine-cones!"
"Pride... You've never had... pine-cones."
The first foal was larger, his coat darker and fluffier, though it hung on his emaciated figure limply. The second was merely a scrap, skin and bones by the look of her thin figure. Foals like those two should still have been with their mother, especially in the chilly months that were approaching Zeira fast. But there wasn't a grown horse in sight, and the two foals were two thin and hungry-looking to have been taken care of. The smaller had a look in her eyes, the look that ones without hope get when you glance right through their eyes and into their hearts and minds.
She looked hunted.
She looked as if she had witnessed murder.
Or committed one.
It was an evening similar to this, though in a land far away. She still remembered her mother, a beautiful paint mare who was as unbreakable and untouchable as any other wild thing. She was a goddess in the minds of her two foals, the sun in their world, the master of everything. They listened to her and she loved them, she loved them with every fiber in her body. Envy never doubted this, Pride never tested it. They just could feel it in the way their mother watched them with her beautiful green eyes, how she whinnied their names every few minutes to make sure they were still around. She was god, and they were her disciples.
Then Diablo came, a black horse with... powers. His eyes blazed crimson with unnatural energies, his neighs and calls carrying echoes of screaming lost souls. It was as if the Devil himself had appeared before the small herd-less family. And he had.
Diablo had been watching their mother, watching her with his blood-colored eyes and licking his lips with a sadistic smile. Old visitors never dropped by anymore; Cannibalistic Diablo would have stripped their bones of flesh like a piranha in seconds. He was horrible. But he was beautiful. He stood at seventeen hands high, towering over the foals and over their mother easily. His pelt was as black as the night sky, but it accentuated every muscle on his form flatteringly. His mane was the perfect length, though it swirled around his head unnaturally, always whipping and writhing, as if made of live snakes. It might as well have been.
The foals mother was terrified of him at first. She kept as far as she could from the stallion at all times. Month by month went by, the stallion did not leave and the foals had been weaned and were eating grass easily.
Their mother and Diablo had an understanding. They had coexistence, a..... compromise.
They had made a deal the first day Diablo had appeared to Goddess, their mother.
That had been the night Goddess had learned she was pregnant.
Pregnant with the son and daughter of the dark horse, of the hell stallion. She had cried at first. Cried, whinnied herself hoarse, and tried often to kill herself.
But Death wouldn't dare claim the wife of the Devil, for Death had no right. And Death could die at the hooves of only one creature, at that was the Husband of the creature she couldn't claim, the creature she couldn't ferry to her rightful resting place.
Diablo had explained to her that his children should each be given the name of a sin, a sin they would eventually become the living embodiment of. Goddess didn't fight it, for she knew Diablo and knew his word was Law. The parents chose Envy and Pride, for Diablo could sense both emotions in them. The four lived... Peacefully for several months.
And then the foals met Death.
Death had whispered in their ears at night, whispered of their Father, Diablo, and of their Mother, Goddess, who was rightfully Death's. Pride ignored these whisperings, for Pride was a proud horse and he believed that none could whisper into HIS ears, for he was too great to be whispered to in the night.
But Envy listened, and she understood.
Envy then became Deaths disciple, agreeing to the creatures plea for help at claiming their mother and spiriting her away from the clutches of the Devil.
Envy wanted her mother safe, she wanted her away from Diablo and for Diablo to leave.
The stallion scared her, but more importantly....
She scared him.
Death instructed her for weeks. By the end of her learning period with death, Envy knew every poisonous plant and berry withing the twenty mile radius. She was ready for her mission, and Death was ready for Goddess to pass into her Embrace. The Angels were waiting for Goddess to come, and their humming voices filled Envy's ears and mind.
Then came the night. Envy made sure Pride was asleep, for she didn't want her brother to witness her carrying out the mission of Death's. She had squirreled away some juicy leaves from her secret hideyhole, spreading the juice of a poisonous berry lightly across the leaf and letting it soak in the sun for the past two days. A chew, a swallow, and the deed was done, she had been told. She had trotted to her mother, the special leaf held carefully in her mouth. She proposed a sort of toast, taking the un-poisoned leaf in her mouth and nudging the other to her mothers.
"This is to Death who you belong to, To the Devil who claimed you, and To the Angels who will save you."
Goddess had stared at her quizzically before chewing up the leaf. Her head had dropped nearly instantly, and the scream of the Devil sounded in the distance. He sensed Death catching the Soul of his wife, and sensed Death sending her up to the Angels. He also sensed Envy.
And he knew what she had done.
Envy had dashed back to Pride, waking him forcefully and whispering "Run," to the sleepy foal. "Run fast."
No one can outrun the devil, that much was true. But the Devils Children can certainly run for a while.
Diablo didn't bother chasing them, for his anger had turned on Death who had reappeared beside him. She was a distraction, for Death wasn't ready to take the Devils children onward or downward yet; In fact, she downright refused.
And when Death refused the Dead, the Dead stayed alive, even if they were hunted by the Devil themselves.
Even if they were killed.
The Children of the Devil had run endlessly, never stopping, never pausing until they got to the land called Zeira. until they found these 'Adoption Fields' and took up residence. The Devil wouldn't follow them to this place, for it was considered herd land and The Devil couldn't enter where he hadn't permission.
They were in those fields now, tired from the run that had happened a week from today. They rested and ate what little they could find. Envy, out of the terror she had felt all throughout the escape from Diablo, had become quiet. Quiet and modest. She let herself be ruled by her brother, treated him like they had treated their mother. Now her brother was her God. How long until death whispered about him too? How long until Diablo would get them, claim them, and keep them locked up tighter than their mother? How long would they be captive until they could find someone to work for Death as Envy had for their mother?
Shaking the grim thoughts from her head, Envy smiled the thinnest and tiredest of smiles and whispered quietly to her brother, "Come on Pride. I shall find you green grass and wildflowers. And clean, cold water. I shall find us a herd."
Envy was a foal of her word, for she called and whinnied her lungs out daily, trying to draw someone, anyone, to them. They needed a Herd, an Alpha, a new God.
All Envy wished was that their new God to not have had dealings with Diablo.
Creatures from Hell were what Envy wanted least right now.
You call me by the name I’ve lied
I meet in secret with those who’ve died
Though life is not’ but treachery
This life is all the life in me
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