Jaggedstep [ReedClan]

[Arcanine]

[atrb=border,3,true][atrb=width,400,true][bg=222f46] Jaggedstep A muscular brown and black tom with a white face and paws with blue eyes. * * * Age: 39 Moons Gender: Rank: Deputy Clan: ReedClan * * * Appearance: Jaggedstep is..no, that's not going to work. Jaggedstep has the build of..nope. Damn. You know, appearances are quite hard to explain, and can be quite deceiving, don't you think? Yes, I rather thought you did as well. Let's just start from the inside out, eh? A bit like drawing any animal, always best to know the anatomy and skeletal and muscular systems. At the base of bases, A.K.A. his bones, he's no more than any other cat. His bones are solid, and rather typical of a domestic cat. However, along his right shoulder and front leg, there are several imperfections. The worst of which, is positioned at the joint of his paw and leg. It looks as if the bones fused almost together, the tendons and ligaments are short and tight. What this means, is that there is not much motion in the area. The second malformation, is above the first, and is just barely seen by the scar tissue of the bone. The last distinctive feature is seen on his shoulder-blade, It looks rough, the scar tissue. The crack starts at the edge of the joint. It then runs halfway across the bone and then ends. Had enough of hearing about his bones? Good, I'm tired of telling. Let's move up for a quick stop at the muscular system, shall we? He's a rather stocky and muscular tom, overall, The muscles are largest around his legs, chest and hindquarters, He knows how to swim, well enough, and his body shows the ability has been put to damn good use. Moving on. His fur, is rather a short to medium length. The coloring, to make it short and simple, can be described in three colors: Black, brown, and white. however, the brown ranges from a soft tan, to deep chocolate. His tail, ears, and around his paws are black, fading into a chocolate brown, then into tan, and almost white. Jaggedstep's paws are snowy white, all four of them. On his right thigh, there is a single white spot. Across his face, there is a white splash, that ends jagged and sharp halfway across one of his two blue eyes. So, let's recap, shall we? He's a rather average height cat, with a bit more muscle on him than other cats. His coat color can be described as black, brown, and white. However these colors blend and fade as they expand and contract over his body. His eyes are a startling blue, almost a cerulean color. He has healed broken bones along his right shoulder and leg, the worst of which is nearest to his paw. Get it? Got it? Good. Personality: Pride is a sin? - Some would say that he is a vain and proud. They would be right on one of two counts. He is a proud tom, and he knows it. It's a sort of self confidence if you think about it . He knows he's good at what he does, and well, if that confidence spills over into self righteous pride, what's he to do about it? One can only be one's self, after all. His pride, is probably his biggest fault, and it's often responsible for the arguments or quarrels he gets into. He likes to talk tough, and as almost everyone aware, if you're going to talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk as well. His pride can easily be used against him, if you want to try for that, but you should know that his claws are sharp enough to return the favor of your sharp tongue. Just because I scheme - Jaggedstep, likes to plan ahead, just to make sure that he has a plan if one is needed. Say, an important cat is killed, or becomes missing, well, he needs to know who will take that cat's place. That doesn't make him evil, it just makes him, prepared. As all good cats should be. However, it might seem a little of a dark and sinister thing the way he speaks of what if's, and could be's. These range from defensive plans, to attack plans on other Clans. He's a very strong believer that there are endless possibilities, and interpretations to StarClan's messages and warnings, though, he wouldn't know, he's never been given a sign or dream from the high Clan. He won't kill for power, but he will kill when he needs to. Futures unseen - This cat believes, albeit foolishly, that there is a predetermined destiny for every cat that was ever kitted under the skies of their home. Certain things must happen for life to move in certain ways, there are just too many coincidences to make it nothing other than fate. A cat's path is laid at his paws, and he or she must walk their intended path, regardless if it leads them to mediocrity or greatness. You must not ask for more than you have been granted. It is simply respectful to take what you are given, be grateful, and live your life. Live it like everyday is your last. The law is the law - The warrior code, is the rules of their Clans. It is there for a reason, and rules are not there to be broken. As a cat of the code, the punishment is deserving of the crime. Your Clan comes first and foremost, and that should be more than enough for you. If you cannot respect that, you deserve to live a hollow life, or no life at all. Jaggedstep does not prefer to think that his Clanmates would do such things, but sometimes, the evidence might just be overwhelming. If it were his kits, or his mate, no one is above the code, not even himself. He walks his life straight and narrow, like a proud general who would prefer to see no evil in his troops. However, this can leave him nearsighted to other, moral issues within the Clan. Moral questions are not his strong point, and often he makes the cruel choice, the hard choice. He long since has learned that the only way he can do any job proficiently, is to cut off the feeling to the issue at hand. Some things, are not for the heart. Kindness is relative - Jaggedstep, for all his pride and authoritative attitude, can show his soft spot for those that garner it. Queens , are most likely to see this gentle side of him. Inside his mind, a odd place most of the time, they are the most precious attributes of any Clan. They provide the future, and that will live when you die of old age. If you are that lucky. However, there is always another end to the spectrum, He has little use for ignorant apprentices, and even less for young warriors. He's fairly tolerant of elders, almost respectful. The young warriors, in his mind, have to prove their right to be of the rank. They must earn his respect, through actions or simple age and intelligence. The title of warrior, needs to be earned, not given. Apprentices, new idiotic ones, set his teeth on edge. Full of questions and stupid mistakes. That's not to say that he doesn't answer questions, but the answers are short and stern. As they gain experience as apprentices, he gradually tells a short story from his own past, or something he'd seen. On the whole though, he's not overly fond of them, as they thing they're the big man on campus now, simply because they had the 'paw' at the end of the name. Towards their leader, he shows nothing but the utmost respect and strives to follow her words to the letter. History: Jaggedstep, was not born Jaggedkit. In fact, he was born Patchkit, the oldest and strongest of two kits. His brother, was known as Owlkit. From the get go, Owlkit was the sick and weaker of the two of them, and took longer to pass the mile stones that Patchkit passed with no problem. Their mother loved them both, as they were her kits, regardless of their father, who loved another. The two kits grew and played with another, happily with their own company, and with the company of other nursery kits. When they became apprentices, Patchpaw, and Owlpaw, were given mentors, who rather disliked one another. The brothers were separated, and trained apart. Seven suns before his twelfth moon, Patchpaw made his biggest mistake. Trying to impress a pretty she-cat who had quickly befriended him when he became an apprentice like her. The challenge was simple; Swim across the river at any given time. It was a game that they had played since he became an apprentice. The night they snuck out to play again, was the night that the river had risen, flooding slightly. The current was fast and clearly dangerous. Still, she challenged him, and made it across with little difficulty. He dove in without a second thought. However, when he got caught by the undertow, and was pulled under, he knew fear. He remembers little from the incident. Pain, up his leg and into his shoulder, water, fear, cold. It's all a blur. When he woke up, he was being tended to by the medicine cat at the edge of the river. His mentor was there, as well as the other apprentice, who was motionless on her side. She had died saving his life from the river. A debt he could never repay. His life had hung in the balance for a time. The leader, who had lost his daughter that night, preferred not to lose the only link to his daughter that was left. However, Patchpaw, was to be punished. He eventually healed, and learned how to use his injury in a way that would not make him a liability, to keep his place in the Clan. When he became a warrior, at 16 moons, still not fully healed really, but the leader was old, and the known deputy was known to not prefer the young apprentice. A last favor to his daughter, he made Patchpaw a warrior. Jaggedstep. A continuous reminder to what he had done as an apprentice. What price had been paid. What he had caused. Patchpaw became Jaggedstep, and he was once again low man on the totem pole. He drug himself up the food-chain over many, many moons, fighting for what he must, and gaining and losing friends, living his life. Eventually, he became a senior warrior, and eventually the deputy, though that was an uphill battle. There were many incidences, and fights, and over time, he lost his mother to green-cough, and his mentor to a out of hand border skirmish. Life went on well enough though. It tends to do that, you know. * * * Roleplay Sample: The night was quick and cold, it was the middle of leaf-bare after all. Still, the forms of two apprentices in the slim moonlight, were barely seen as the walked across their home territory, tails twined, shoulder to shoulder. Their breath's misted in the cold air, and the soft murmur's of the voices were hard to hear. The river was but a dark ribbon in the night, the rushing liquid called to them. The she-cat turned to look at him, her eyes wide in the dark, as she purred out her challenge. " Patchpaw, how would you fancy a quick challenge?" The tom looked at her, blue eyes wide, the white on his face highly visible. "Scared?" He snorted, and walked closer to the wider than normal river. It looked peaceful enough. Glancing over his shoulder, he sat, tail flicking at the river. " You first Cherrypaw. Challenger always go first," The she-cat inclined her head, and waded into the deep water, swimming strongly. As she made it across the river, her white fur sticking to her slim body, she called for him to replicate her crossing. With a deep breath he stepped into the river, the cold sharp and clear. He slipped into the river, almost silently. He was almost halfway across, when he was sucked under, and he vaguely heard her yowl his name. He bobbed to the surface again, inhaling water and air, this time hearing a familiar, masculine call of his and her names. Under, up, under, up. He was bobbing along, Nothing to cling to, nothing to stop himself. Faster, he seemed to go, until he stopped, and pain hurled him into darkness. When he awake, he was aware of the taste of river on his tongue, and the amount rushing out of his mouth. Coughing, he opened his eyes blearily. The medicine cat stood over him, her pale green eyes worried yet infuriated. " Good, at least your awake now. Does this hurt, mousebrain?" She then jabbed her paw against his shoulder, and the agony was mind numbing, He yowled, and the cat made an agitated sound. " Foxdung. What about-" "Ivytail. I lost her." Both the apprentice and medicine cat looked sharply. In the darkness of the night, he could see his mentor, keeping watch for any form of enemy, not likely, but it provided a little privacy. The medicine cat apprentice was crouched over Cherrypaw, who was limp on the shore. The apprentice was crouched, whiskers trembling with shock and sorrow. The words were soft, and Patchpaw vaguely noticed his mentor bending his head in sorrow at the words. Ivytail stood, padding over to the young cat, mummering at him to check over Patchpaw. She leaned over the young cat, listening for a heartbeat or breath. It was faint, and for the next few moments, she fought to save the young she-cat. After a moment, she listened again. The water was fleeing the young one's lungs, but nothing was improving. Eventually, it stopped completely. Slowly she straightened. " She's gone. " The pain he felt when his shoulder had been touched was nothing. This was true agony. He struggled to move to an upright position, Birchpaw restrained the younger apprentice, beseeching the younger cat to hold still. Patchpaw babbled, fear coloring his voice, "What?! What's that mean? What do you mean, Ivytail!?" " It means she's dead! She's with StarClan now. She saved your life, Patchpaw. It was his mentor who told him that. The words he didn't say, also hung in the air. And it's your fault. A wail broke from His throat, filled with sorrow and regret, and most of all, guilt. His best friend. Dead. Because of him. This time, when darkness came, he raced to meet it. The night wore on, and the river plunged on, and the cats returned to camp. Only time would tell if it could truly heal all wounds. As the wind rustled the grass under them, Ivytail wondered, just how would their leader take it when he found out about his daughter's death. How did you find this site?: Advertisement on another site.

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[˟Ɍɑɨղ]

Your...your...you are simply amazing. Your writing skills are 1000 times better than mine. You are my god.

Anyway he is accepted! Awesome character! I hope to role-play with him :3