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Description
I only saw this group today and I used to be so big into warriors rp so.. here I am! I haven't drawn cats in ten million years though, I'm so rusty...

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update 20/3: added mentor
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Character

Name: Black-kit | Blackpaw | Blacknettle

[Black] - For the black and dark grey points of his coat

[Paw] - He's still an apprentice
[Nettle] - For his prickly nature

Clan:ShadowClan!

Age: 8 moons.

Rank: Apprentice

Gender: Male

Appearance details: A grey-brown tom with a paler back and dark grey points (paws and face). His muzzle and tail are cream-tipped and his rear right paw has a cream stocking. His eyes are a fierce orange. Although not yet fully grown, he is about average in size and quite sturdily built. As an adult, he will be roughly an ear-length taller than the average Clan cat and pretty stocky. His whiskers (not shown) are black.

History
Kithood - 0-7 moons

The Clans' exodus from the lake took place when Blackpaw was still a kit of two moons. He doesn't remember much of the old territory; flashes of dark forests and an expanse of water larger than the sky. Blackpaw - then Black-kit - spent most of his time playing with his two littermates, a brother and sister who passed away before the Clans chose to leave the lake. Not fully capable of understanding the permanency of death, Black-kit would spend hours at a time in the centre of camp, waiting for his mother to bring his siblings out to play. Refusing to accept that he would never see them again, Black-kit set off on a journey of his own, though he didn't get very far before the camp's attendant guards caught him wandering the dry lakeshore. They swiftly bundled him up and took him back to camp. Black-kit was not popular among the warriors due to his repeated escapist antics, but no-one could truly blame him for being unable to process his grief.

He remembers the exodus, all right, far better than anything that came before. His mother carried him most of the way, terrified that she would lose him as she lost the rest of her litter, and he wasn't allowed to mingle with the other Clans' kits as they played. Black-kit would never truly make up for this lost socialisation and to date finds it difficult to interact with others without coming across as mean or rude. He occupied himself instead with exploration (as much as his mother allowed), practicing his warrior moves with stray feathers and fallen leaves.

Apprenticeship - 7.75 moons
Blackpaw was named an apprentice almost as soon as Shadowclan settled in its new territory. It has only been a quarter-moon since then, and Blackpaw has reached his eighth moon. Finally free of his mother's coddling claws, he couldn't wait to begin this new stage of life.

About

Personality:

+ Brave - Blackpaw is fearless, more or less, as a result of his kithood antics.
+ Honest - This cat will own up to any wrongdoing, without hesitation. He doesn't lie and considers deception to be a form of cowardice.
+ Creative - He's got quite the imagination, and can create elaborate mock-up battle plans and hunting moves on the fly.

> Independent - He's quite happy to do any assigned tasks on his own, preferably without outside input.
> Mature - Having grown up with no kithood friends and only adults for company, Blackpaw is mature for his age.
> Introverted - He prefers solitude and can find the company of others overwhelming and draining.

- Blunt/Rude - His manner of speech is... not very graceful, to say the least. He can come off as extremely disrespectful towards his superiors and has a history of shirking authority.
- Lazy - He'd rather not work at all, and can use his creativity to come up with multiple ways to get out of work. It takes him hours to wake up in the morning, during which time he can seem dull and slow-witted.
- Flippant - It takes a lot for him to start dedicating himself to a task

Likes: Freedom, sleep, solitude, reedbeds.

Dislikes: Hard work, cowardice, most authority figures

Other Information:
-Blackpaw is an expert at putting his foot in his mouth, often coming out with overly-harsh truths masked as casual observations
-He's disrespectful, but hopefully in the future will learn how to be a proper warrior-code following cat.
-Far more interested in fighting than hunting; at least fights are over quickly, while hunting can drag on and on when he'd much rather be sleeping or relaxing.
-His ideal life involves freely roaming the fjord and Clan territories. Secretly he wonders what it would like to be a loner or rogue.

Relationships

Orientation: he's too young to know

Looking for: not much. He's not the friendliest but a partner to watch his back while hunting or fighting is good enough for him.

Ideal Relationship and Traits: Someone who can put up with his attitude and earn his respect, a hunting and fighting partner as strong-willed as he is.

Mentor: Duskstripe tsf application

Apprentice: n/a

Crush: none yet

Mate: none yet

Ex-Mate/s: none yet

Kin: Father - unknown. Mother - Brackenfall, a permanently-anxious brown and cream queen. His deceased siblings were Lark-kit and Rosekit.

ExampleClan

Exampleclaw | @ | - Relationship Description

Roleplay
(from something unrelated)

Stifling a low growl, Iska turned and bounded into the air again, to make the perimeter circuit. She'd herd the sheep together again, away from the dangerous gorge, then together she and the hunters could drive the flock home. Once they were close to the camp, the wyverns wouldn't think to try their thievery again.

Setting her wings, she spiraled up in a tight arc. Her wings and dragon instincts ached to carry her into a dive, to fall on the hapless sheep like a bolt of lightning. She did not. Tight, controlled, she drifted into a shallow glide. The pale undersides of her dark, pointed wings caught each updraft and breeze. Gusts of air threatened to toss her to the ground if she moved a single feather wrong. She never would, though and never had. Flight was her second nature.

The black gash of the gorge passed beneath her. Several sheep lay at the bottom, veiled by mist from the waterfall. The flock's sudden stampede had knocked Fiach over the edge, into a gap too narrow for wings.

A brittle ptarmigan call broke the air. Iska dipped a wing and circled the flock in a wide spiral, drawing the stragglers close to the main body. In the distance, the retreating wyvern was hidden by the Sun herself. The Sun had begun to dip, as if to touch on the rim of the horizon, to reunite with her terrestrial twin. But the Sun wouldn't sink beneath the horizon. She would rise again in a few hours, then dip, then rise. Night had no place in the middle of summer in the far south. The long day would end soon, with the Sun's disappearance. The plains would freeze, and Iska's clan would once again be forced to race the vanishing sun before it left the sky for weeks at a time.

Preferred methods:
Forum *****
Notes **
Skype **
Anything else *
(but like I said I haven't rp'd in so long idk what the kids are doing these days)

Description
I only saw this group today and I used to be so big into warriors rp so.. here I am! I haven't drawn cats in ten million years though, I'm so rusty...

------
update 20/3: added mentor
------

Character

Name: Black-kit | Blackpaw | Blacknettle

[Black] - For the black and dark grey points of his coat

[Paw] - He's still an apprentice
[Nettle] - For his prickly nature

Clan:ShadowClan!

Age: 8 moons.

Rank: Apprentice

Gender: Male

Appearance details: A grey-brown tom with a paler back and dark grey points (paws and face). His muzzle and tail are cream-tipped and his rear right paw has a cream stocking. His eyes are a fierce orange. Although not yet fully grown, he is about average in size and quite sturdily built. As an adult, he will be roughly an ear-length taller than the average Clan cat and pretty stocky. His whiskers (not shown) are black.

History
Kithood - 0-7 moons

The Clans' exodus from the lake took place when Blackpaw was still a kit of two moons. He doesn't remember much of the old territory; flashes of dark forests and an expanse of water larger than the sky. Blackpaw - then Black-kit - spent most of his time playing with his two littermates, a brother and sister who passed away before the Clans chose to leave the lake. Not fully capable of understanding the permanency of death, Black-kit would spend hours at a time in the centre of camp, waiting for his mother to bring his siblings out to play. Refusing to accept that he would never see them again, Black-kit set off on a journey of his own, though he didn't get very far before the camp's attendant guards caught him wandering the dry lakeshore. They swiftly bundled him up and took him back to camp. Black-kit was not popular among the warriors due to his repeated escapist antics, but no-one could truly blame him for being unable to process his grief.

He remembers the exodus, all right, far better than anything that came before. His mother carried him most of the way, terrified that she would lose him as she lost the rest of her litter, and he wasn't allowed to mingle with the other Clans' kits as they played. Black-kit would never truly make up for this lost socialisation and to date finds it difficult to interact with others without coming across as mean or rude. He occupied himself instead with exploration (as much as his mother allowed), practicing his warrior moves with stray feathers and fallen leaves.

Apprenticeship - 7.75 moons
Blackpaw was named an apprentice almost as soon as Shadowclan settled in its new territory. It has only been a quarter-moon since then, and Blackpaw has reached his eighth moon. Finally free of his mother's coddling claws, he couldn't wait to begin this new stage of life.

About

Personality:

+ Brave - Blackpaw is fearless, more or less, as a result of his kithood antics.
+ Honest - This cat will own up to any wrongdoing, without hesitation. He doesn't lie and considers deception to be a form of cowardice.
+ Creative - He's got quite the imagination, and can create elaborate mock-up battle plans and hunting moves on the fly.

> Independent - He's quite happy to do any assigned tasks on his own, preferably without outside input.
> Mature - Having grown up with no kithood friends and only adults for company, Blackpaw is mature for his age.
> Introverted - He prefers solitude and can find the company of others overwhelming and draining.

- Blunt/Rude - His manner of speech is... not very graceful, to say the least. He can come off as extremely disrespectful towards his superiors and has a history of shirking authority.
- Lazy - He'd rather not work at all, and can use his creativity to come up with multiple ways to get out of work. It takes him hours to wake up in the morning, during which time he can seem dull and slow-witted.
- Flippant - It takes a lot for him to start dedicating himself to a task

Likes: Freedom, sleep, solitude, reedbeds.

Dislikes: Hard work, cowardice, most authority figures

Other Information:
-Blackpaw is an expert at putting his foot in his mouth, often coming out with overly-harsh truths masked as casual observations
-He's disrespectful, but hopefully in the future will learn how to be a proper warrior-code following cat.
-Far more interested in fighting than hunting; at least fights are over quickly, while hunting can drag on and on when he'd much rather be sleeping or relaxing.
-His ideal life involves freely roaming the fjord and Clan territories. Secretly he wonders what it would like to be a loner or rogue.

Relationships

Orientation: he's too young to know

Looking for: not much. He's not the friendliest but a partner to watch his back while hunting or fighting is good enough for him.

Ideal Relationship and Traits: Someone who can put up with his attitude and earn his respect, a hunting and fighting partner as strong-willed as he is.

Mentor: Duskstripe tsf application

Apprentice: n/a

Crush: none yet

Mate: none yet

Ex-Mate/s: none yet

Kin: Father - unknown. Mother - Brackenfall, a permanently-anxious brown and cream queen. His deceased siblings were Lark-kit and Rosekit.

ExampleClan

Exampleclaw | @ | - Relationship Description

Roleplay
(from something unrelated)

Stifling a low growl, Iska turned and bounded into the air again, to make the perimeter circuit. She'd herd the sheep together again, away from the dangerous gorge, then together she and the hunters could drive the flock home. Once they were close to the camp, the wyverns wouldn't think to try their thievery again.

Setting her wings, she spiraled up in a tight arc. Her wings and dragon instincts ached to carry her into a dive, to fall on the hapless sheep like a bolt of lightning. She did not. Tight, controlled, she drifted into a shallow glide. The pale undersides of her dark, pointed wings caught each updraft and breeze. Gusts of air threatened to toss her to the ground if she moved a single feather wrong. She never would, though and never had. Flight was her second nature.

The black gash of the gorge passed beneath her. Several sheep lay at the bottom, veiled by mist from the waterfall. The flock's sudden stampede had knocked Fiach over the edge, into a gap too narrow for wings.

A brittle ptarmigan call broke the air. Iska dipped a wing and circled the flock in a wide spiral, drawing the stragglers close to the main body. In the distance, the retreating wyvern was hidden by the Sun herself. The Sun had begun to dip, as if to touch on the rim of the horizon, to reunite with her terrestrial twin. But the Sun wouldn't sink beneath the horizon. She would rise again in a few hours, then dip, then rise. Night had no place in the middle of summer in the far south. The long day would end soon, with the Sun's disappearance. The plains would freeze, and Iska's clan would once again be forced to race the vanishing sun before it left the sky for weeks at a time.

Preferred methods:
Forum *****
Notes **
Skype **
Anything else *
(but like I said I haven't rp'd in so long idk what the kids are doing these days)