Post by Taggr on Nov 7, 2011 18:29:00 GMT -6
ROWANSTORM
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Tom . 26 Moons . ShadowClan . Warrior
A dark blue eyed stealthy owl scarred ginger tom.
Push Me Under
There's no cat in ShadowClan that would deny Rowanstorm's... "rugged" looks. Sure, he's crafty now, but he didn't get that way over night. Just look at his scars! This once-hansom young tom has been sticking his head into one too many owls' nests. If one can get passed the scars on his face, they'd see that this tom is true to ShadowClan form. He's tall and well-fit, giving him the appearance of a very versatile warrior- and that he is. His orange fur is a bit of a beacon in leaf-bare, but he makes up for it with his brilliant greenleaf and leaf-fall stealth skills. His eyes, to say the least, have always been a dark shade of blue. He likes to think they were a factor in giving him the warrior suffix "Storm".
Pull Me Further
Rowanstorm is kinder than what his scars would have you believe. Although he enjoys seeing cats' first reaction to him, he's no longer the tough brute he thought he would be. He wins his battles with brains rather than brawn and cats begin to realize this when they see how respectful and polite he can be. As a warrior, he carries an air of authority around him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like to play sometimes. He his loyal and dedicated to his clan, and especially to the apprentices who are assigned to him. There's little in this world that can ruffle Rowanstorm's pelt. He doesn't view anything as the accepted 'norm' and doesn't reject cats based on their beliefs, moral codes, looks, or sexuality. They are what they are and getting offended is a waste of time. He's patient with all cats, from rowdy kits to cranky elders. When overworked, he can get a little snippy, though.
Take Me All The Way
Ever since he was first born, Rowankit could not be contained. He was always the first to run into trouble and the last one to admit that he didn't have things under control. He was so smooth in his operations that he swore up and down to anyone who would listen that he could convince a full grown warrior that his pelt was made of stone and he would never budge again. So why couldn't he ever figure out how to convince the ShadowClan leader that he was ready to be a warrior after just two weeks out of the nursery?
Time was kind, however, and it wasn't long before the smooth-talking kit was apprenticed to a ragged old she-cat who was about to retire. Willowstep was young and brilliant once, but in her old age, she was losing her touch. This didn't mean she couldn't teach this whipper-snapper a thing or two. She put her heart and soul into drilling Rowanpaw until the very tips of his claws hurt. She wasn't abusive, but she wanted to make sure that her last apprentice was her best.
Four moons into his training, a harsh leafbare tore through the Clan. No cat died from it, but it became clear that Willowstep had reached her final moon as a warrior. She could no longer get herself up in time to join patrols, as her joints hurt her so much in the morning that she could not move without shaking. After a soggy ceremony, it was only with Rowanpaw's help that she made it to the elders' den without falling on a wet patch of ice. After that, a young tom by the name of Thistletooth took over Rowanpaw's training.
After only a quarter moon, Rowanpaw stormed into the elders' den, furious with his new mentor. As he shared tongues with Willowstep, he complained that the tom didn't know what he was doing and wouldn't push him to his limits like the elder did. Purring to herself, Willowstep encouraged Rowanpaw to be patient and try to work with his new mentor. Through the ginger tom's pleading, Willowstep agreed to review Rowanpaw's lessons every day until he became a warrior.
Less than a half moon later, Thistletooth lost a fight with a badger and became severely crippled. The young tom died in his sleep the next night due to extreme blood loss. Even though he was sad that the clan had lost a member, Rowanpaw couldn't help being relieved that his training wouldn't be affected by the warrior's bad teaching. Stonefoot, a more experienced warrior, finished Rowanpaw's training. Like Willowstep, his mother, he pushed his apprentice to his limits every day, making sure he was creating the best warrior he could.
His last day as an apprentice was, perhaps one of the most painful days of Rowanpaw's life. He was taking Willowstep on a walk to stretch her legs when he spotted an old owl's nest. A spark of curiosity, not to mention hunger, hit him like a falling branch. He knew one of his old mentor's favorite meals was a freshly laid egg. Perhaps this nest held one! Unfortunately, the only thing Rowanpaw caught was a face full of owl talons. The wounds, though serious, were not enough to postpone his warrior ceremony. He had killed the owl and brought it and Willowstep safely back to camp. With his curiosity now hindered, he was ready to be a warrior.
I Wait For You To
...take me all the way...
Rowanstorm was born to Nightfire and Darkstone, both proud warriors of ShadowClan. They're in their last moons as warriors by now, though. He was the only kit in his litter, but he has a younger brother, Wolfpaw, who's just started his training. He's not particularly close to any of his family. He regards them as Clanmates only. However, he likes to keep an eye on his brother to make sure he's not getting into trouble.
