![[D] e a t h k i t Avatar](http://metanorn.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/FMAB49-00004-160x150.jpg)
Post by [D] e a t h k i t on Mar 27, 2011 15:13:04 GMT -6
- - -
Deathfate
- - -
NAME;; Deathkit//Deathpaw//Deathfate
AGE: five moons
GENDER: feminine
CLAN: RiverClan
RANK: Kit
- - -
DESCRIPTION;; Deathkit is a glossy black she-cat, from the tip of her tail, to the end of her whisker, she is as black as night with a new moon. One cannot say that there isn't any shading done to her, but it is hard to see, for her pelt blends in well with mixtures and ranging of black. As some would say that one could see a starry sky, a good representation of her pelt, I would have to disagree. Her pelt is more of a black hole's, forever pitching into silence. Only one tuft of hair is different from the never ending black. A small spot on her chest is the only thing that breaks the 'silence'.
Her eyes may seem unlikely to place equally and as a normal cat. Her eyes are a varying shade of purple, for they can be described as stars, they glow like a hot fire, not warming, but cold and dark for the most part. Openly, she really cannot tell if she likes or dislikes her eye colour, for they are mutually different; but inwardly, she hates it and judges it as too girlie.
She is a small and lanky, pretty little thing, not one to be said to look like she could battle a lion, much less one of her denmates, as they outsize her deeply. She is small, very small, at the age of even eight moons, one might mistake her for a kit. One wouldn't even think of her heading for them straight on, and she wouldn't, for fear of being crushed.
Her hind legs are what make up the most part of her. It makes it easy to swim, hunt, and jump. Preferably jumping.
- - -
PERSONALITY: This tiny black kit has a lot to make up for in size rather than personality, in fact, she has a huge personality, a split personality to say at the least.
Normally, she is kind, shy and caring, yet excessively out going and fun to be with. She would never lay her eyes on the medicine cat den for apprenticeship, but when she has free time, she would find her paws leading her there to help the medicine cat out. One may describe her as bashful at times, and maybe a bit of a temper, though, she isn't quick to flame up or loose it. Sarcastic doesn't work well with her. She just can't do it, no matter how hard she tries to be funny and whatnot. She usually keeps her feelings to herself, not wanting to burden anyone with her rowdiness as you might call it. Extremely considerate with kits, queens, elders, and definitely the few friends that she has.
But she is not always normal. She is as normal as her name she was given 'Deathkit' --which is rather unusual per-say. Her 'other' personality she is usually not always conscious of, but it likes to make comments on things inside her head, and usually it doesn't take over her. This side is nasty. The things she says in this state would be enough to get her kicked out of the clan if she didn't have her sweet one to correspond with it.
When in the state, she is prone to saying sarcastic remarks, insulting others, and having the strong sensation to want to kill. It's something about the way she feels, she wouldn't mind raking her claws through a clanmate, just to feel the blood on her paws. No one really knows how she even got this complicated personality, and they know even less when it might spring, but one should know for sure --get out of her way in this mood. Or risk dying.
- - -
HISTORY;;
.:Stepping into your Fate:.
The cold winter evening seemed to be calling to her. Larkowl stood, her long golden-brown fur, brushing the moss at her feet. She glanced out in the snow, her eyes were hollow and scary. She needed to get out, she had spent too many moons here cooped up in the nursery. She didn't care that she was already heavy with kits. Her mate had kept her here way to long --she had to get out. Dragging her paws across the newly fallen snow, she trotted heavily to the camp exit. She turned around, her eyes shadowed and cold, and then she moved on forward, careful not to glance back a second time.
The day moved on, cats came back from patrols and hunting parties. None of them noticed the missing she-cat. The queens had thought that she had moved to the medicine cat den, and her mate thought that she was safely tucked away in the warm pine nursery. It was then, a day later, a young grey and black tom was hunting near the ponds. Young and friendly, his charitable mood was outstandingly innocent. So far, he was happy and content, he had caught a few frogs and a sparrow that had flown from the ThunderClan border. Jumping and prancing around like a new-born kit, the tom fell upon something StarClan would never have wanted him to see --a dead she cat, lay at his paws, golden fur covered in snow, hiding the small blotches of scarlet underneath.
The innocent was no longer innocent, he fell back and called for the medicine cat. When the medicine cat arrived, he identified the golden-furred she-cat as Larkowl. She was barely breathing, wounds covered her face. All they could get out of her was that someone had attacked her. Nothing else. Except...she was constantly murmuring one word over and over again. So faint, that even a cat with very well trained ears had to strain their ears to hear. "Kits..my kits.." a constant repetitive pattern. "Kits...my kits.." It was fumbled and took some time for anyone to figure it out; but they finally did. They thought it was too late as they rushed to where she was found. Her bloody pawprints engraved in the snow.
Searching, they found a small covered hole, and inside, was the most revolting thing of all.
Two kits, lay down in the hole. A small slimy black one, and a large golden-furred one; but that was not what made it disturbing. The kit, its fur a glossy black, as one in a never ending hole, had its maw open, tangled around the body of the golden, its small prickly teeth to her sisters throat.
They brought the dead and the living kit back and lied them at the queens feet --too late, to realize, that as, coincidentally or not, the moment the black kit left their hold, and was down against its mother, the queen had her final last breath, and lay still, gone forever from the world.
Death.
Bought Item(s);; different coloured eyes.
ooc;; weird way I stated the history, but bear with me, as it's old and I don't feel like redoing it XD
