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Description
This most recent DA submission is a bit different. My sister has been reading a book series called "Warriors" for a long time now and earlier this year she joined a group that roleplays this sort of thing. Now, I never had an interest in it, frankly, I still don't. (please don't take offence, it's nothing personal!) However, Lithe mentioned that the old cats in the series, elders, would be something I might find fun. So I went ahead and made Willowbark, a grumpy old fart persian who pretty much feeds off his own sarcasm. I've rolplayed as the old feline a cople times already, and while I still don't feel keen on reading the books, I do find it fun to be an old grump with nothing better to do than torcher the young. >3>

~

Age: 132 moons

Personality: Willowbark is an often disgruntled feline. At first glance he appears gruff and i'll-mannered and seems to carry a very sarcastic view of most things. However, those who know him better know that under the rough exterior the old cat belies an understanding wisdom.

History: A normal Clanborn life.

Roleplay sample: The old cat lounged in a corner by himself, his surroundings that of an elder hut. Idly, Old Willowbark had his one good yellow eye, the other now a milky white creased by a scar he earned some time ago, roam about the small abode as a thought took hold of his mind. It had been plaguing him for a while recently. He felt restless, irritated... and bored, worst of all. Ever since he had retired and took residence in this dirt pile every day was the same. No surprises, no action, just sitting here while the apprentices attending him waited for the inevitable, although some gossiped that the old grump was secretly immortal just to annoy them. A low grumble arose from his chest as he got up off his side, and without a word started to walk to the huts front exit. An apprentice near at hand mewed out to Willowbark as he went by.
"Where are you going, Elder?"
Turning to eye the youngling with his good eye, he answered with a snap "Leaving this poor excuse for a tomb."
Without another word, the old black persian swished his grey tipped tail and walked out, feeling more alive at that moment then he had in ages.

Description
This most recent DA submission is a bit different. My sister has been reading a book series called "Warriors" for a long time now and earlier this year she joined a group that roleplays this sort of thing. Now, I never had an interest in it, frankly, I still don't. (please don't take offence, it's nothing personal!) However, Lithe mentioned that the old cats in the series, elders, would be something I might find fun. So I went ahead and made Willowbark, a grumpy old fart persian who pretty much feeds off his own sarcasm. I've rolplayed as the old feline a cople times already, and while I still don't feel keen on reading the books, I do find it fun to be an old grump with nothing better to do than torcher the young. >3>

~

Age: 132 moons

Personality: Willowbark is an often disgruntled feline. At first glance he appears gruff and i'll-mannered and seems to carry a very sarcastic view of most things. However, those who know him better know that under the rough exterior the old cat belies an understanding wisdom.

History: A normal Clanborn life.

Roleplay sample: The old cat lounged in a corner by himself, his surroundings that of an elder hut. Idly, Old Willowbark had his one good yellow eye, the other now a milky white creased by a scar he earned some time ago, roam about the small abode as a thought took hold of his mind. It had been plaguing him for a while recently. He felt restless, irritated... and bored, worst of all. Ever since he had retired and took residence in this dirt pile every day was the same. No surprises, no action, just sitting here while the apprentices attending him waited for the inevitable, although some gossiped that the old grump was secretly immortal just to annoy them. A low grumble arose from his chest as he got up off his side, and without a word started to walk to the huts front exit. An apprentice near at hand mewed out to Willowbark as he went by.
"Where are you going, Elder?"
Turning to eye the youngling with his good eye, he answered with a snap "Leaving this poor excuse for a tomb."
Without another word, the old black persian swished his grey tipped tail and walked out, feeling more alive at that moment then he had in ages.