Post by Nighthawk on Jul 4, 2008 10:30:20 GMT -5
name xx; Nighthawk
gender xx; Male
clan xx; Windclan
rank xx; Warrior
description xx;
A long-legged black cat, Nighthawk was built for running. He has a sleek body, like most Windclanners, and toned legs and shoulders. He has a sleek black pelt, the fur short but thick. On his back paws his toes have gray fur, or rather sort of a Russian blue. Also, he has the same blue fur on the very ends of his tail. His eyes are a dark midnight blue, and his nose and paw pads are black.
picture xx;
((I made it, don’t touch it -_- ))
personality xx; Nighthawk was named for the unusual way he fights—using his powerful legs to leap straight up and then come down at the enemy from above, claws first. He’s a loyal but short-tempered cat, mistrusting and highly cynical by nature. He always suspects the worst in others, and as such is also highly observant. But he isn’t outwardly rude, fortunately...well most of the time he’s not openly rude. Sometimes he can’t much help it. But he’s a good warrior to have around, mostly for his speed and unpredictable fighting style. Besides the hawk-like dive-bomb maneuver he has a few other tricks up his sleeves.
history xx;(And roleplaying sample have been combined)
Keep your head down, Nighthawk…keep your head down. It might not have seen you yet….
Blood pulsed through his veins so fast he felt he must be seconds from having a heart-attack. He was shaking—he couldn’t help it! Fur spiked, back arched despite the need to be as invisible as possible. Not a tail-length away, a full-grown, growling, rather bad-tempered badger. Nighthawk was hidden in the thick cover of a wild bush that barely had enough room under it to allow him. The black cat watched with wide eyes as the beast sniffed, smelling for something. Maybe the cat that stood right next to it!?
Nighthawk knew fear was getting the better of him, but you try staring a badger down when you’re this close to its den and very likely its pups. Try watching those massive claws scratch the earth, watch the massive beast curl up its lip and growl in anger that something should be so close to its young ones, and then you go out there and fight it. Nighthawk knew he should be chasing this thing off his territory. But honestly, without the support of other warriors, who just commits suicide like that?!
Besides, Nighthawk had had bad experiences with badgers… At least three of the scars on his left side had to be from that first early encounter. It hadn’t been pretty.
Odd, isn’t it? Nighthawk stood not a tail-length from death, and suddenly he actually had the audacity to have a flashback! But it’s funny what the mind will do in a desperate attempt to escape the panic of the moment. And how ironic that his mind’s escape would be back to another time when he’d felt panic-stricken, only perhaps a little more so, because he was just a kit, small enough to probably fit in that badger’s mouth with room to spare. Or at least that’s what he had thought at the time, the thing was so huge. Nighthawk never found out how it got into the nursery, he was too petrified afterwards to ask, but he clearly remembered sleeping in warm moss one moment, and being thrown up into the air the next by a massive clawed hand. He hit the thickly-woven wall of the nursery, then fell to the ground. A creature he’d never seen before was slashing the den apart, Nighthawk’s brothers and sister and the two other kits in the nursery running like ants in a wrecked hill—in a panic. Warriors were all around, moving in, but unorganized, some trying to grab the kits, others darting forward and away from the badger trying to scare it off but also trying not to get a face-full of claw. But one cat was not afraid. Ah, the fury of a mother. Nighthawk’s own had run straight for the face of the beast.
Back in the present, Nighthawk flinched visibly. He didn’t want to remember that part… Suffice to say she didn’t survive the encounter. Nighthawk might not either if that thing got any…closer….
Any and all thought froze, as the badger finally seemed to locate Nighthawk’s fear scent, despite the overpowering scent of the strange leaves around him. It swiveled its massive head towards him, and step by step it moved closer, massive paws crunching on the dried undergrowth. Nighthawk was shaking again, so hard. The thing let out a mighty growl, and the warrior knew he couldn’t hide any longer and honestly expect the thing not to kill him.
He spun around as fast as the tight space would allow and ran for dear life. Behind him he could hear a roar of pent-up anger, and then the ground started shaking as the beast lunged forward after him. Nighthawk could turn, he could fight. But, well, I hope you’ll forgive him for wanting to live to see tomorrow. And so he ran, heart pounding wildly, chest heaving, paws smashing against rock and sharp thorns and he didn’t care. He ran flat-out, head low, body stream-line, with all the speed of a Windclan warrior. He fled out to the moorlands, the open ground providing no cover from the frightening beast that thundered behind him. Where to, where to?! Not back to camp, no way in heck would he bring this thing there. But he needed help! No, no, he didn’t. He just needed to loose it.
Nighthawk made a sharp turn, pulling his back feet under him and then kicking off of a rock to launch himself in the other direction. He could hear a roar of the badger behind him, probably skidding to follow his own change in direction. How long did badgers pursue an enemy?! Nighthawk didn’t know, but he didn’t dare to look back. He was heading straight over the flat grounds, how far he traveled and for how long he scarcely knew, but this must be one ticked off badger, because it didn’t stop. The land began to slope downwards, Nighthawk picked up speed. Ahead was a stretch of black ground, hard and flat and reeking. The thunderpath… Nighthawk couldn’t believe he was doing this, but as he hit the bottom of the slope hard on his paws he lunged on, and sprinted without looking either way, which he knew was deadly from the start, but he was half counting on the massive monster that came roaring towards him, anxious to end his life here and now.
Nighthawk hit the other side of the road, but he had to actually spin to make sure that his tail was still there. He’d felt the monster brush it…that was too close! And slowly he turned, ears perked, eyes wide, to see how the badger had faired. Apparently it was just as freaked out as he was, hissing and growling and snarling at the thunderpath and at Nighthawk and at the monsters that zipped by at random intervals. Nighthawk stared it in the eye, still panting…until it finally turned away, to return to its own home. Nighthawk had certainly learned his lesson after all.
Nighthawk collapsed, panting, gasping, eyes closed, trying to calm his wild heart. That wasn’t the first time he’d had a close encounter on the thunderpath either…his breathing remained just as harsh and he felt for sure he was having a panic attack. But his heart, at least, was definitely slowing. Deep breaths, Nighthawk…
“Deep breaths, Nightpaw, come on,” a voice chided. Wolfwind always sounded like he was scorning someone though. He was probably mad at Nightpaw for stepping onto the path. Well it was pretty reckless… And it had nearly cost Nightpaw one or more of his limbs!
“Nightpaw, you okay?” Frostpaw asked. Nightpaw flinched inwardly. Frostpaw, the one she-cat he kind of sort of liked. Why did she have to be here now? Right when Nightpaw was having a brush with Starclan…
Maybe that’s what forced him to his feet, taking deep breaths as his new mentor had said. Nightpaw had been named an apprentice a mere few hours ago. He needed to start acting like it. He wasn’t a frightened kit anymore… and besides, there was a girl to show off to!
This time as Nighthawk got to his paws it wasn’t for any girl, unfortunately. Frostpaw had entered Starclan’s ranks about three moons ago. No, what got the young warrior to his paws was a thick sour scent. Shadowclan. Nighthawk was actually standing not far from highstones. The Shadowclan leader or maybe the medicine cat must have come here for some reason or other. It wasn’t his business. Though still Nighthawk couldn’t help but turn his head, his eyes peering up the next slope. Sure enough, a red-furred Shadowclan tom was gazing down at him, and an apprentice next to him. Neither approached nor said a word. Nighthawk didn’t want to stick around to hear it either. Still panting just slightly, Nighthawk turned back to the thunderpath, this time looked both ways, and crossed.
It was a battle with Shadowclan that had earned Nighthawk his warrior name. It had also taken Frostpaw from him… Nighthawk didn’t want to relive that memory either. He forced himself to move on, tail low, head low. Back up to the moorlands… He needed to tell the rest of the camp about the badger, see what they wanted done with it. Personally Nighthawk vowed to never step foot on that beast’s territory again.
codeword xx; Twilight, I believe
gender xx; Male
clan xx; Windclan
rank xx; Warrior
description xx;
A long-legged black cat, Nighthawk was built for running. He has a sleek body, like most Windclanners, and toned legs and shoulders. He has a sleek black pelt, the fur short but thick. On his back paws his toes have gray fur, or rather sort of a Russian blue. Also, he has the same blue fur on the very ends of his tail. His eyes are a dark midnight blue, and his nose and paw pads are black.
picture xx;
((I made it, don’t touch it -_- ))
personality xx; Nighthawk was named for the unusual way he fights—using his powerful legs to leap straight up and then come down at the enemy from above, claws first. He’s a loyal but short-tempered cat, mistrusting and highly cynical by nature. He always suspects the worst in others, and as such is also highly observant. But he isn’t outwardly rude, fortunately...well most of the time he’s not openly rude. Sometimes he can’t much help it. But he’s a good warrior to have around, mostly for his speed and unpredictable fighting style. Besides the hawk-like dive-bomb maneuver he has a few other tricks up his sleeves.
history xx;(And roleplaying sample have been combined)
Keep your head down, Nighthawk…keep your head down. It might not have seen you yet….
Blood pulsed through his veins so fast he felt he must be seconds from having a heart-attack. He was shaking—he couldn’t help it! Fur spiked, back arched despite the need to be as invisible as possible. Not a tail-length away, a full-grown, growling, rather bad-tempered badger. Nighthawk was hidden in the thick cover of a wild bush that barely had enough room under it to allow him. The black cat watched with wide eyes as the beast sniffed, smelling for something. Maybe the cat that stood right next to it!?
Nighthawk knew fear was getting the better of him, but you try staring a badger down when you’re this close to its den and very likely its pups. Try watching those massive claws scratch the earth, watch the massive beast curl up its lip and growl in anger that something should be so close to its young ones, and then you go out there and fight it. Nighthawk knew he should be chasing this thing off his territory. But honestly, without the support of other warriors, who just commits suicide like that?!
Besides, Nighthawk had had bad experiences with badgers… At least three of the scars on his left side had to be from that first early encounter. It hadn’t been pretty.
Odd, isn’t it? Nighthawk stood not a tail-length from death, and suddenly he actually had the audacity to have a flashback! But it’s funny what the mind will do in a desperate attempt to escape the panic of the moment. And how ironic that his mind’s escape would be back to another time when he’d felt panic-stricken, only perhaps a little more so, because he was just a kit, small enough to probably fit in that badger’s mouth with room to spare. Or at least that’s what he had thought at the time, the thing was so huge. Nighthawk never found out how it got into the nursery, he was too petrified afterwards to ask, but he clearly remembered sleeping in warm moss one moment, and being thrown up into the air the next by a massive clawed hand. He hit the thickly-woven wall of the nursery, then fell to the ground. A creature he’d never seen before was slashing the den apart, Nighthawk’s brothers and sister and the two other kits in the nursery running like ants in a wrecked hill—in a panic. Warriors were all around, moving in, but unorganized, some trying to grab the kits, others darting forward and away from the badger trying to scare it off but also trying not to get a face-full of claw. But one cat was not afraid. Ah, the fury of a mother. Nighthawk’s own had run straight for the face of the beast.
Back in the present, Nighthawk flinched visibly. He didn’t want to remember that part… Suffice to say she didn’t survive the encounter. Nighthawk might not either if that thing got any…closer….
Any and all thought froze, as the badger finally seemed to locate Nighthawk’s fear scent, despite the overpowering scent of the strange leaves around him. It swiveled its massive head towards him, and step by step it moved closer, massive paws crunching on the dried undergrowth. Nighthawk was shaking again, so hard. The thing let out a mighty growl, and the warrior knew he couldn’t hide any longer and honestly expect the thing not to kill him.
He spun around as fast as the tight space would allow and ran for dear life. Behind him he could hear a roar of pent-up anger, and then the ground started shaking as the beast lunged forward after him. Nighthawk could turn, he could fight. But, well, I hope you’ll forgive him for wanting to live to see tomorrow. And so he ran, heart pounding wildly, chest heaving, paws smashing against rock and sharp thorns and he didn’t care. He ran flat-out, head low, body stream-line, with all the speed of a Windclan warrior. He fled out to the moorlands, the open ground providing no cover from the frightening beast that thundered behind him. Where to, where to?! Not back to camp, no way in heck would he bring this thing there. But he needed help! No, no, he didn’t. He just needed to loose it.
Nighthawk made a sharp turn, pulling his back feet under him and then kicking off of a rock to launch himself in the other direction. He could hear a roar of the badger behind him, probably skidding to follow his own change in direction. How long did badgers pursue an enemy?! Nighthawk didn’t know, but he didn’t dare to look back. He was heading straight over the flat grounds, how far he traveled and for how long he scarcely knew, but this must be one ticked off badger, because it didn’t stop. The land began to slope downwards, Nighthawk picked up speed. Ahead was a stretch of black ground, hard and flat and reeking. The thunderpath… Nighthawk couldn’t believe he was doing this, but as he hit the bottom of the slope hard on his paws he lunged on, and sprinted without looking either way, which he knew was deadly from the start, but he was half counting on the massive monster that came roaring towards him, anxious to end his life here and now.
Nighthawk hit the other side of the road, but he had to actually spin to make sure that his tail was still there. He’d felt the monster brush it…that was too close! And slowly he turned, ears perked, eyes wide, to see how the badger had faired. Apparently it was just as freaked out as he was, hissing and growling and snarling at the thunderpath and at Nighthawk and at the monsters that zipped by at random intervals. Nighthawk stared it in the eye, still panting…until it finally turned away, to return to its own home. Nighthawk had certainly learned his lesson after all.
Nighthawk collapsed, panting, gasping, eyes closed, trying to calm his wild heart. That wasn’t the first time he’d had a close encounter on the thunderpath either…his breathing remained just as harsh and he felt for sure he was having a panic attack. But his heart, at least, was definitely slowing. Deep breaths, Nighthawk…
“Deep breaths, Nightpaw, come on,” a voice chided. Wolfwind always sounded like he was scorning someone though. He was probably mad at Nightpaw for stepping onto the path. Well it was pretty reckless… And it had nearly cost Nightpaw one or more of his limbs!
“Nightpaw, you okay?” Frostpaw asked. Nightpaw flinched inwardly. Frostpaw, the one she-cat he kind of sort of liked. Why did she have to be here now? Right when Nightpaw was having a brush with Starclan…
Maybe that’s what forced him to his feet, taking deep breaths as his new mentor had said. Nightpaw had been named an apprentice a mere few hours ago. He needed to start acting like it. He wasn’t a frightened kit anymore… and besides, there was a girl to show off to!
This time as Nighthawk got to his paws it wasn’t for any girl, unfortunately. Frostpaw had entered Starclan’s ranks about three moons ago. No, what got the young warrior to his paws was a thick sour scent. Shadowclan. Nighthawk was actually standing not far from highstones. The Shadowclan leader or maybe the medicine cat must have come here for some reason or other. It wasn’t his business. Though still Nighthawk couldn’t help but turn his head, his eyes peering up the next slope. Sure enough, a red-furred Shadowclan tom was gazing down at him, and an apprentice next to him. Neither approached nor said a word. Nighthawk didn’t want to stick around to hear it either. Still panting just slightly, Nighthawk turned back to the thunderpath, this time looked both ways, and crossed.
It was a battle with Shadowclan that had earned Nighthawk his warrior name. It had also taken Frostpaw from him… Nighthawk didn’t want to relive that memory either. He forced himself to move on, tail low, head low. Back up to the moorlands… He needed to tell the rest of the camp about the badger, see what they wanted done with it. Personally Nighthawk vowed to never step foot on that beast’s territory again.
codeword xx; Twilight, I believe