Warrior of the Sky

General Information

Pre-Clan: Tiger (young kittypet), Jones (loner)
Clan: Briarfoot

Meaning:
Briar- For his prickly and cold personality, which he made known to SkyClan from nearly day one. Shaped from his days as a neglected kittypet and then a rough loner.
Foot- For his darker paws, easy to distinguish from the rest of his body.  

6 cycles, 3.5 moons

Male

Burmese [50%] American shorthair [25%] Mutt [25%]

Previous: Kittypet, Loner
Current: Warrior

Hunting: 4/28 _{((Not the strongest hunter, since he is quite lethargic and can be slow at times.))}
Ending: 2/28 _{((His endings are weak, because he is usually tired from the previous fight, but he makes sure that he is the stronger of the two opponents by the end.))}
Battle: 7/28 _{((In the midst of battle, he is strong, using his toned legs and strong jaw to take on multiple enemies at once. His brute strength is typically enough to win his fights.))}
Speed: 4/28 _{((Since he is a larger cat, he is not limber and quick like some slimmer ones. His older age also plays a part in his lethargy, not having quite as much energy as younger cats.))}
Tactical: 8/28 _{((An excellent tactician before a fight, his smart brain is sometimes enough to win entire battles for his Clanmates. He claims to have a superior knowledge to other cats' movements before they even make them.))}
Jumping: 2/28 _{((A poor jumper at best, his magled tail provides little support, and his heavy limbs make it nearly impossible to land a jump; if he can get off the ground, at least. This is unfortunate considering his location and rocky surroundings.))}

28 points

SkyClan

Joined SkyClan the day he turned six cycles (three and a half moons ago, give or take) after having his tail crushed by a boulder in SkyClan's territory. After they nursed him back to health, he practically begged to join the Clan, knowing he couldn't survive on his own any longer than he had been. Taking pity on him, he finally made himself a warrior of SkyClan, but he acts cold towards his Clanmates, knowing they don't fully trust him yet.

0 points total

0 spending points

Personal Information

Positive
[Bold] [Determined] [Brilliant]
Neutral
[Aloof] [Rough] [Bored] 
Negative
[Untrustworthy] [Cold] [Selfish]

[Bold] Though he often shows himself as a quiet and rude type, Briarfoot is willing to put a paw down when need be, and will sometimes show random displays of boldness while in battle. He will sometimes put himself on the line to try and get something he wants for himself, such as glory or respect. It's sometimes easy to mistake his boldness for kindness, as he sometimes puts himself in situations where he has to protect the lives of others as well as his own, but nevers gives a second thought about any other cat when trying to protect himself.

[Determined] Mentioned before, he is extremely driven towards what his goal is, making him highly ambitious and goal-oriented. If anyone or anything stands in the way of whatever he wants, he will eliminate them immediately, whether they consider themselves friend or foe. He tends to take it easy on his Clanmates, however, as he doesn't want to be branded as the enemy.

[Brilliant] Living the majority of his life as a loner, then also understand the Clans and their ways gives Briarfoot a step up in knowledge, in his opinion. He understands how all types of cats work and how to deal with them, as well as a vast knowledge of different herbs without going through medicine cat training. This also gives him a bit of an advantage as a tactician in battle, as he's able to draw up plans to knock down the enemy as quick and effectively as possible--if he's given the time, of course.

[Aloof] Given all the time he's spent alone without a cat to rely on, it is difficult for Briarfoot to interact well with other cats, often coming off as cold and uncaring, as well as distanced socially from the rest of his Clan. Though he often attends Gatherings for information, he never goes for any other reason; never socializes or engages with anyone. His free time is often spent off in the canyon somewhere, staring up at the clouds as they pass by and thinking. He will also often volunteer for solo patrols or vigils, choosing to do his duties with the least amount of verbal contact as possible.

[Rough] Whether it be through language, actions, or appearance, a word always seems to come to mind when interacting with him: rough. His language is often lewd and littered with Two-Leg slang, unfamiliar to most Clan cats. His fighting and hunting style are anything but gracious or well-planned, despite his "superior knowledge". Most of his actions are in fact slow and clumsy-looking, from the way he walks to how he swims. His gruff, unkempt coat and magled tail also add to this feature, and the strange markings on his face give him an unnaturally odd looking expression.

[Bored] With slightly drooping eyes and a lack of any kind of expression gives Briarfoot the standard look of boredom nearly all of the time, with a monotone voice and deadpan comments. Some cats may take offense to this nonchalant expression, especially while talking or explaining something. He even uses this to his advantage in agitating those he dislikes, by sarcastically insulting them like it was nothing.

[Untrustworthy] Due to his very recent appearance along with many other loners in the Clans, and the recent rise of the Cause, most do not trust him in SkyClan, fearing that he may have sided with Howl at one point. He doesn't blame them for this assumption, but goes along with Clan life anyway.

[Cold] Since this tom shows little to no emotion, he does come off as cold, and refuses to break his shell even in the face of the most tragic events. He never flinches at the death of his comrades, and never blinks an eye if he kills his enemies, and never holds any sort of sympathy. It's in his nature never to do so or connect on a strong level towards any cat, due to the rough story of his past and all that had abandoned him. This being the case, he is isolated almost entirely from the rest of his race, whether they are kin or not.

[Selfish] Without worrying so much for other cats, he tends to focus on his own needs above the rest, and drive towards his own goals versus the good of the Clan. Without the knowledge of the others, he will at times treat himself before looking out for others more wounded than him after battles, and will often take from the fresh kill pile what he needs regardless of if the kits or elders have eaten first. Very little does he put others before himself, but he will if it will get him farther ahead in the long run.

History

A Brief Summary
Before he was known as Briarfoot, or considered himself a brave warrior of SkyClan, the tom spent his days alone as a wandering loner who called himself Jones. He teetered along the edges of the Clans, rarely running into another cat as he did so. Occasionally he would run into a lone female, and a few moons later some kits would come up to wander as he did, or he would scuffle with other males over territory and prey. Even before that though, in his very first year of life, he was a simple kittypet known as Tiger, who spent his days toughing it out with abusive Two-Legs and only a mangy pooch for a friend.

Tiger the Kittypet ((0-1 cycles old))
Born into the lap of luxury as a kittypet with only a twin to compete with, Tiger had everything going with him. The queen that was his mother - a burmese cat named Chloe - took care of both him and his sister well, and their aging Two-Leg owners never passed up an opportunity to coddle them near to death. However, when he was just a little over two moons, he was stripped of the comfortable life he was born into. Unknown Two-Legs smelling of something foul took him "home" that day, and he never again saw his sister or his mother, or the Two-Legs he'd come to love. Upon arriving at the unfamiliar Two-Leg den, his masters almost immediately forgot about him, rarely feeding him or cleaning up his dirt box.

However, in the life he considered hell, he found a single friend he could rely on--a dog named Tommy. He lived in the same Two-Leg den as Tiger for whatever reason, but he never once attempted to harm him, and the small amount of verbal communication they could make were the only things keeping Tiger sane--and alive. The young tom lost most of his bodily strength by the time he was 6 moons old, and Tommy could see this despite his lacking intelligence. Tommy couldn't understand, however, as he was given superb treatment by the Two-Legs, being well fed and properly exercised. Two or three moons of this, and it was easy to see that Tiger was dying, and Tommy could sense this, and began mourning for his friend by spending every night with him. On the night he was sure to die, Tommy carried him in his jaws in a last-ditch attempt to save the teenage tom, running out of the house the moment their Two-Legs fell asleep. He ran and ran, with a barely breathing Tiger safely clenched in his maw, until he was sure the Two-Legs could never find them. When he finished running, he found himself in the middle of a dense forest, and was unsure of what to do at this point. Knowing that he was bred to be a hunting dog, Tommy went and fetched a meal for Tiger, should he wake up. Surprisingly, the tom opened his eyes the next morning, and ravenously consumed what he could of the rabbit he was brought--only to throw it back up. After a moon of tending to Tiger in the forest and teaching him how to hunt, Tommy caught a strange disease from a stagnant pool of water and died.

Heartbroken and alone, Tiger continued to roam the forest like a zombie, rarely catching food for himself or cleaning his unkempt fur. The day he lost his kitty pet collar while wrestling a small deer was the day he told himself he would forget everything--his mother, sister, Two-Legs...and Tommy. He forced himself to stop grieving, and forgot the name Tiger--giving himself the name Jones after the name of his second Two-Legs, to remind himself that he was better than them or their horrid ways. From this point on he was Jones the Loner--nothing more and nothing less.

Jones the Loner ((2-6 cycles old))
Leaving behind the old forest he had called his home for the past few moons, Jones moved on to what he deemed to be "greener pastures"--which was really a rocky canyon that shared its home with a strange group of cats that were bound together by loyalty; SkyClan. He refused to even hunt in their territory, however, thinking they were simply a group of uncivilized mutts without a cause. Few other loners lived near the canyon, and he scuffled with them often over food or territory, never looking back on it even if he killed the cat. He simply took what he wanted when he wanted it, and would sleep wherever suited him. He nearly forgot how to speak a coherent language in these times, only a cycle after leaving the forest, due to lack of intelligible conversation. At times he would grunt a few words at his opponents, or screech mindless profanities when badly injured. He nearly always got away without any flesh wounds, but due to the rocky and dangerous terrain, would often come away with broken or dislocated bones that he would have to spend hours attempting to fix.

Unknowingly, however, the young and hot-headed tom had been followed for quite sometime, and he was often stolen prey from by this anonymous shadow. He would keep watch sometimes for days once he figured out he was being pursued, and sometimes mumbled phrases about "tracking them down and gutting them", hoping this might scare them away. It didn't. One day, while Jones feigned sleeping, the shadow emerged to steal some of the prey he'd buried just to act as a trap for his unwanted guest. Upon hearing their digging, he launched himself upon them and have them a vicious beating. He could tell by the way they fought that they were also a cat, and were a bit younger than him judging by their size. After being kicked around to about an inch of their life, Jones backed off of them to reveal a young she-cat, bloodied and mangled. He felt little pity towards her, but allowed her to live through the night, doing nothing as she laid there and bled out.

Eventually, she grew strong enough to move, and ended up digging his prey up just as she had done before, but Jones allowed it. She was nothing but a small fly on the derriere of his brain, and he figured having her around couldn't do much harm besides getting in his way during hunts. She continued to follow him, even though she was weary of the beating he'd given her, and no conversation passed between them. It was a silent agreement they made - she would follow him silently and without interruption, and he wouldn't kill her. Eventually, though, she grew tired of the endless travelling without any communication, and grew up he nerve to introduce herself. Pepper. Pepper was the name of the young, cream-colored she-cat, and though he found names tedious, Jones introduced himself as well. They were then inseparable, Jones finding comfort in protecting her from any dangers they faced, and Pepper feeling a trust growing in her whenever she hunted with the older tom. They talkked more often, sometimes even engaging in full-blown conversations. They had known each other for only a few moons, but it felt like they'd been travelling together for years.

Eventually, their companionship blossomed into a mutual romance, Jones allowing his hardened walls to fall for none other than Pepper. She felt it as well, and they both agreed that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together, raising some kits and hunting in the rocky canyon until their fur turned grey. Moons later, Pepper announced with a swollen belly that she was expecting kits at any moment, and went into labor minutes later. However, when she started to give birth, there was blood, and far more of it than there should have been. The kits were born healthy, but Pepper did not survive the birth. His world shattered once again by fate, he resented the kits who he thought to have murdered his mate, and left them out in the canyon to die without a second thought. He never looked back.

Cycles passed, uneventful and dull as they were before he met Pepper, though now he cursed the world and held a cruel resentment for every living thing he ever passed. The moment he ever spotted another cat, he would attack it and leave it to die, regardless of age or whether or not they acted hostile. One day, he ran into a cat who simply would not give up, no matter how gruesome the beating, and in fact had Jones gasping for breath by the end of their fight. The cat laughed and told Jones that he had an amazing amount of skill in fighting, and suggested he see their leader to join their cause. Confused but oddly compliant, Jones was led by the cat to a strange location, near the canyon she called home. The cat explained the situation along the way, and that they were literally fighting for a group called the Cause, led by a fierce cat named Howl. Upon arriving, Jones was skeptical, and was met by the leader, a scrappy but fit tom with dark fur. He was invited to join Howl's Cause, but flatly refused, as he loathed the idea of ever cooperating with a ragtag group of flea-ridden cats. Howl accepted his decision, and let him on his merry way.

Returning back to the canyon was a bitter homecoming, but he knew it was the only place he truly understood how to survive. He continued life as normal, not giving another thought to the Cause except feeling that there was something odd behind those cats' motive to destroy the "Clans", which were other odd groups of cats who all wanted to live together for whatever reason. Jones simply shrugged it off. A few days into his return, however, he made a mistake while hunting for a rabbit off the side of a particularly steep cliff and fell, tumbling his way down to the base of the canyon to have his tail crushed by a boulder that came after him. He was trapped. He lay crushed by that boulder for days, stressing his vocal chords farther than they'd gone in his entire life for any kind of help. He wanted to keep living, he knew that, but he didn't know what for. He wanted to do something before he died in this canyon, but he didn't know what.

He found himself at death's door once again, as weak as the night he and Tommy ran away from the two-legs. Using the last bit of his strength, he continued to call out for help in vain, knowing it wouldn't help him at all. However, as the sun began to set on what would surely be his last day on earth, he found himself surrounded by a small patrol of cats that all held the same scent. To him, they looked like his saviors, and he begged for their help. They agreed to help him out of his predicament, only if he agreed to join their "Clan". That word again rang a bell in Jones' mind, and when he looked to them with confusion, they said that their patrols had seen him catching prey and sparring with other males in the area, and they desperately needed cats to strengthen the Clan. Blindly, he agreed to it, just wanting to survive the night. And so, Jones once again left behind a life he had known and been content in, following the cats to his new home after shoving the boulder off of him.

Briarfoot the Warrior ((6 cycles old-recent))
Upon being accepted into the unknown, Jones was met with many uncertain gazes and a few hostile glares, obviously weary about a loner joining their ranks. His tail was put into a makeshift brace using some sturdy twigs and weeds by the medicine cat who agreed to help him. Later that evening, after resting in the medicine cat's den, he was given a warrior naming ceremony, and Skystar chose the name Briarfoot. He has been known as such since then, nobody having the nerve to call him otherwise. He never did run into Howl after that, and chose to steer clear of the loners he had encountered in the past so that we wasn't accused of being a traitor or having a paw in two worlds. To this day he is still tempted to leave and go back to the only life that he'd known before becoming a warrior, but he knew this was the right choice, and that this would be his permanent home.


More detail TBA as he is roleplayed.

Other Facts

Likes:
-Power
-Solitude
-Inner peace
-Outward violence
-Rabbits
-Quick flings
-Calculations
-Dogs

Dislikes:
-Submissiveness
-Large crowds
-Kits
-Utter chaos/turmoil
-Over-emotional cats
-Tight-knit relationships
-Long term responsibilities
-Vomit
-Snakes
-Two-Legs

Fears:
-Heights
-Two-Legs
-StarClan
-Prophecy
-Disease

Sexual/Romantic Preferences
Sexual Orientation: Fluid between heterosexual and asexual
Relationship Interests: /blank/= Not interested x=Interested ?=Unsure

[?] Long-term
[] Friends with benefits
[x] Quick fling
[?] Open relationship

Relationships

SkyClan

Tigerpatch

|

ThunderClan
--
RiverClan
--
WindClan
--
ShadowClan

--
Loners/Kittypets

Rowanheart nodded at Beetlepaw's comments, scrunching up his nose in disgust. "You're right. Never smelled anything like this since I was a kit. Let's go take a look to make sure nothing's wrong with the water," the mentor said to his apprentice. "I want you to stay here for now, I don't want you to come down until I make sure it's not the tampering of Twolegs." The tom ran forward into the tall grass that surrounded the small lake, butting away the towering blades with his skull. The stench grew worse as he drew nearer to the lake, and he drew his running back to a slow sneak when he could hear the quiet swishing of the water coming onto the shore. The tom had to hold back a wretch as the smell got to him, fogging his head up and causing a gross churning in his stomach. 

Quietly as he could, Rowanheart stepped forward past the tall grasses and looked around the perimeter of the lake, holding his breath to prevent any more of the odor to accumulate in his lungs. He felt a sense of relief as the area seemed clear of Twolegs and rogue cats, but his stomach dropped upon looking at the surface of the water. It sat still, a sickly green color instead of a clear blue. On top of that, dozens, maybe hundreds of fish were floating on the liquid unsuitable to be called water, dead as a doornail. Unable to keep it down any longer, the tom wretched up the contents of his stomach and fell onto his haunches. After a few moments to regain his composure, Rowanheart cried out, "B-Beetlepaw! Please, come quick!"