Post by Gemini on Dec 21, 2020 15:08:05 GMT
thistleburr the basics Full Name • Thistleburr. Age • 30 moons. Gender • Tom Sexuality • Bisexual. Clan • CoastClan. Rank • Deputy. the appearance Appearance Summary • A long-furred black, beige, grey, and white classic-tabby tomcat with gold-green eyes. Overall Appearance • Thistleburr is a rather pulchritudinous long-furred tomcat, his colorations a mix of black, beige, gray, and white. The colors intertwine in diverse ways. Thistlewhisper's countenance is a light gray, black stripes concentrating across his cheeks and marking the top of his crown. His ears are large compared to his head, giving him a kinda silly, adoring face. As he ages, he might grow more into his big tufted ears. Just above his nose, there is a slight mark upon his nose that is the color of beige. The tom's chest is arrayed with black stripes and a beige décolletage. The sire's flanks are a grey, marbled with black swirls and circle-like markings. On each paw, his toes are an alabaster, up the legs is marked with grey and black. His visionaries are absolutely beauteous, having a goldish-brown color that has green just outside the pupil. Next, would be his wild tail, the top is black, while beneath is a gradient marked with white, to grey, to black at the tip. The tomcat has abnormally long claws, that he is unable to sheathe completely, helping him excel in hunting and battle. the personality Strengths • Fighting, climbing, stamina. Neutral • Hunting, agility, swimming. Weaknesses • Tracking, leaping, nurturing. Fears • Drowning, failure, falling to death, and kill without reason. Overall Personality • Thistleburr isn't the average feline, considering he is a tom with very little words to speak. He is almost considered a mute, but not quite, as he does talk. Despite his silence, he is a very articulate when he does decide to open his maw. His words are spoken utterly with passion and he can become overwhelmingly detail-oriented with his speech. Thistleburr had gained this trait from his mentor who spoke with great detail and explained things thoroughly to him. Again, he might not speak much, but when he does, he is very courteous, making sure to speak morally. Thistleburr, despite any disrespect shown to him, he believes being respectful and polite is the best way to earn the same thing in response. Treat others how you wanna be treated. He believes those words deeply and is compassionate about it as well. An extraordinary trait that Thistleburr acquires is his empathetic nature. Thistleburr has always been a phenomenal listener and learner, taking information in with ease. He processes others' emotions better than the things amidst him, it seems, so he enjoys being there for others, almost like a therapist. He adores helping others with their state in how they currently feel, as it will most likely urge him to speak as well. He typically finds friends with those who are open to warming up to him and expressing feelings. With empathy, he is also extremely intuitive, more so going with his intuition rather than with his heart or head. He follows the conscious feeling that is perceived by his intuition, and for the most part, it has worked out for him so far in his lifetime. Though, once he warms up, he's sure to talk to the one he's opened up to Thistleburr is occasionally complex to understand, and what makes it even more of a challenge is his placid energy he gives of. It's not simple to please or upset Thistleburr unless it's his own doing. He rarely gets frustrated by others, predominately, only putting the blame on himself for mistakes. Anyone who attempts to surprise the tom may be upset with the result unless they know him well enough to bring out excitement. Many might find the tomcat unfathomable, which is entirely possible. He can be extremely easy to get along with or the way opposite, too difficult. It can definitely be a challenge to get along with someone who doesn't give much to talk about, but giving him a chance is the best way, not that many will realize. Once he has warmed up, believe it or not, Thistleburr is found to be whimsical, enjoying the time he can to get away from duties and let loose a bit. Finding someone to let loose with will definitely guide Thistlewhisper to a more loquacious demeanor, at least, that's the hope. He tends to be whimsical in a more physical way, such as gently pushing at another or pawing, but often he will say a few jokes. . Thistleburr can be rather deceiving, as his trek is sluggish and intimidating, with a kind face and brutal in combat. The tom from the outside could be seen as a powerhouse, both physically and in personality. He's well-respected, adored by most. It might not be too obvious, but Thistleburr is a genuinely anxious sire, finding it troubling with certain situations he's never dealt with before or speaking to new felines, so simply put, a bit of social anxiousness as well. If he feels as though he's done something wrong or made even a simple mistake, he can be found muttering words beneath his breath and pacing frantically. Though, as he aged a bit, the tom has shown less anxiousness, and he will continue to cope with it. Thistleburr is quite weary of every action, feeling strategics matter and thought into a plan, being rather fastidious. Every detail must be backed up and thought up carefully, which is why the tomcat tends to avoid conversation that involves a plan or situation of that sort. Due to being a bit of a softy, the long-furred feline is somewhat repentant, met with regret when he fails to punish those who cross borders and such. When he grows older, Thistleburr will become more belligerent and moody, doing these tasks with ease and pure aggression. He goes easy on others when he shouldn't if he's quick enough to recognize another's strength. Upon making mistakes, yet again, Thistleburr used to be his own enemy and was self-critical. However, he has been able to recognize his strength a bit more, giving himself more credit. One thing that many might be quick to notice, is that Thistleburr has grown quite possessive of his belongings. He's often seen with items between his paws, laying near them, or even lying atop of them. He isn't very pleasant if someone attempts to touch his belongings, as he can get snappy and possibly vindictive. the history Father • Whitejaw (Deceased) Mother • Silverwillow (Adoptable) Siblings • Brightflower (Adoptable), Antflame (Adoptable), and Molethroat (Adoptable). Other • Minnowheart (Former apprentice of Thistleburr, good friend as well. Adoptable). Overall history • Kittenhood: One Greenleaf night, Silverwillow and Whitejaw had been out on a patrol together, the vocalizations of their upcoming kits had been spoken about. Soon, Silverwillow would have to retreat to the nursery where her kits would be born. Joy filled the pair's embodiments, as many could see on the outside the rigid pair lightened up. The day finally came, the sun had been coming over the horizon, beauteous colors of amber, lilac, and tuscany was arrayed across the abyss beyond which shone rays of light into the nursery that morning. First born, was Brightkit in which the rays of the sun glistened amongst her fiery lilac pelage. Second born had been Antkit, who was named for being the smallest amidst his siblings. Third born, it was Thistlekit, named for his lengthy, spiked fur. His fur looked quite wild after his birth, almost as if he'd been cow-licked. And lastly, the fourth born was named Molekit, for his dark variety of color. The four kittens all had very different personalities, that actually mixed relatively well. Brightkit would grow to be deeply caring and outgoing, while Thistlekit collaborates well with her, as he grows into a more empathetic and intuitive feline. They're combination works well considering Brightkit expertises in social skills and communication to her brother whom listens and emphasizes with. The other two on the other hand, Antkit will become a curious intellectual that will drive her to innovation with the backup of Molekit who has a strong decisive nature and the strength to put innovation into implementation. But how do they get along with the other pairs of one another? Having these unique personalities provided them with each other to their different aspects of making things happen and such. Throughout their history, this might be seen. Thistlekit enjoyed spending the majority of his kitten hood with his sister, Brightkit who he'd gotten along with best. The other two just kind of confused him with their incredible motivation to do things, meanwhile, Thistlekit and Brightkit were less activity-driven. The two often would speak about their futures as warriors. Brightkit had always been curious about the medicine cat's den, finding herself stumbling out of the nursery to her avail, though unfortunately being returned by Whitejaw or Silverwillow. Thistlekit often joined his sister in these little adventures to the medicine cat's den, just to be taken back every single time. Thistlekit would encourage his sister's feelings on becoming a medicine cat, emphasizing with her as much as he could, being her support. Apprenticeship: Thistlekit remembered his apprentice ceremony quite clearly, never forgetting the exciting moment to the next step in becoming a warrior. Of course, his siblings were right along next with him as well. Under the current reign of the Clan, Thistlekit, Brightkit, Antkit, and Molekit were renamed to their apprentice names, Thistlepaw, Brightpaw, Antpaw, and Molepaw. Not only that, but of course they were assigned to their mentors to become warriors. Thistlepaw would never forget his mentor's name, finding it a distinct name. Crookedfang, that was his name. The well-known, respected was previously named Nightflight for his agility, stamina, and completely atramentous pelt. Thistlepaw stepped to greet his mentor that morning, the behemoth tomcat before him was almost terrifying. Thistlepaw had only known of his skill, not so much his personality. Anxiety filled his crania and abdomen, causing him to feel ill, almost. Though, when Crookedfang greeted, his voice was raspy and deep, but kind and surprisingly gentle in a way. Crookedfang had been renamed after he had gotten into a fight with two dogs. Of course, he wasn't the only one taking on the dogs, as there were three other CoastClanner's by his side. However, Crookedfang was unlucky and a canine had stepped on his jaw, shifting it slightly to the right where his teeth were exposed. He wasn't the most pretty thing to look at, which is why Thistlepaw was a bit nervous. He looked scary, that's it, but it turned out, it was quite the opposite if scary. Crookedfang was nurturing in a fatherly demeanor and reserved. That morning, after the ceremony, Crookedfang offered to show Thislepaw the territory to learn it before training. Upon his first day of training, Thistlepaw was taken out to the territory by his mentor, Crookedfang. Crookedfang had immediately gotten into his lectures, wandering around the territory aimlessly. This lasted for a few days, as Crookedfang wished that Thislepaw knew CoastClan's territory like the back of his own paws. After the first week of learning CoastClan's terrain, he finally had gotten into the more interesting things. Crookedfang had questioned Thistlepaw about what most interested him about being a warrior, and the first few things he had brought up was hunting, fighting, and climbing. Crookedfang went on and explained that no feline could possibly be equally as good at fighting and hunting, since those are two prioritized skills. Thistlepaw wasn't sure how to react about that, but he had quickly decided that he wanted to be more skilled in hunting. Crookedfang had spent three moons teaching Thistlepaw the strategy and techniques of hunting from the most simple to complex. While teaching him to hunt, he had also taught the young tom how to climb to attack from above and track to find his prey or even territory enemies such as other Clanners or enemies such as the fox or badger. As more moons passed on, Crookedfang focused on working on the other skills, but the next priority was the strategy and techniques of battle. Fighting was a necessary skill, even if a feline wasn't very skilled in it, Crookedfang knew it must be taught. Thistlepaw would work for hours, finding himself in exhausting states. For Crookedfang's age, he was full of boundless energy that Thistlepaw struggled to compete with. He was envious of his mentor's energy and pep, but Thistlepaw didn't quite have it in him. One night, he had found himself in the Medicine Cat's den, attempting to gain the rest he needed. He had ended up staying two nights, regaining his sleep he'd been missing. With endless amount of training, he was always drained, but he knew he wouldn't regret it in the future, or at least he had hoped. Crookedfang had given the tomcat weekly tests that tested each of his skills, and swimming was definitely not one, considering a near-death experience. One day, Crookedfang had given him a break and Thistlepaw was now fourteen moons, and it was about time he was named a warrior. Something told Thislepaw that today would be the day, or tomorrow, but that something was just his intuition speaking. Thistlepaw and his father, Whitejaw had gone out on a border patrol, speaking about his future as a warrior. Thistlepaw was a bit disappointed that Antflame and Molethroat had earned their warrior names, but that could've been for their drive toward motivation. Meanwhile, Thistlepaw and Brightpaw had been late bloomers behind their siblings who earned their warrior names two moons ago. Thistlepaw and Whitejaw had a good bond, being two peas in a pod considering they both weren't big communicators but bonded and socialized with one another. Thistlewhisper wasn't a social feline, but he loved talking with his father, and honestly considered him his best friend since he kind of struggles to open up to anyone else but Brightpaw and Whitejaw. During this walk, the two stumbled upon a fox and her three pups, causing the felines hackles to raise and become defensive. The fox instantly figured these two were dangerous to her pups, getting violent. The vixen lunged toward Whitejaw, her mandibles clamping around Whitejaw's nape. Thistlepaw froze momentarily, watching as those incisors lacerated into Whitejaw, penetrating the skin deeply as sanguine fluid spilled to the terra firma. From that moment, suddenly Brightpaw's vocals plunged into his ears, shaking his head as he begun to climb up the nearest tree, reaching for the closest branches he could and leapt. Reaching a good high point, he watched as his sister moved fluently, dodging raging snaps from the fox. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his legs extending outward as he landed upon the fox’s back, unsheathing his claws as his sister switched angles, attacking from the opposing side. Upon vigorous shaking, he slipped slightly, sinking his teeth into the throat of the fox, his hind claws raking at the fox’s chest. With the release of Whitejaw, he slid across the terrain, laying limply. The fox yowled and sprinted off with her pups, blood spill left between the four who fought. Brightpaw and Thistlepaw scrambled to the flanks of their father, hovering over the dark tomcat with his white mandible he was named after. Whitejaw’s breaths had become unsteady and slower, his visage slowly averting to his kits. “Be strong you two, be honored for your brave fight as well. I wish you two well. Make me proud, I will be admiring you from StarClan.” He wished his kin farewell as his last few breaths slipped away from his physique. The two siblings glimpsed at one another, sorrow in their eyes, the silence unbreakable. Thistlepaw felt ultimately ill, wishing that he would’ve reacted sooner, before the fox could’ve gotten a hold of Whitejaw. Thistlepaw exhaled sheepishly, knowing he'd mourn his father's death for awhile, if not, his whole life. That night, at Moonhigh, the death of Whitejaw was mourned and the leader had announced Thistlepaw's and Brightpaw's warrior ceremony the arriving day for their brave battle. The morning came and the thing Thistlepaw dreaded would be the silence he'd have to sit for. The time soon came, their warrior ceremony. It appeared that their other two siblings cared less for the pair's ceremony, considering they went into warrior hood two moons earlier. The leader spoke his thoughts on the two, giving them praise, soon announcing the two as Thistleburr and Brightflower. The two actually were pleased with their names, wishing they could speak on their behalves. However, the silence was something every new warrior went through. Warriorhood: Thistleburr was excited but nervous for the upcoming moons and well, the rest of his life. He urged himself to not be so anxious, but he couldn't quite talk himself out of it. He figured the first few moons couldn't be that hard, considering it should be simple border patrols, hunting patrols, stuff like that, or so he thought. The young warrior still figured he had a lot to learn, but that would come as he aged. He never really stuck around for the elder's stories, since he was always visiting the Medicine Cat's den with Brightflower as kits. Occasionally, he wonders what the elder's have to say, the more moons that passed. Thistleburr thought momentarily, eventually coming to the conclusion that it's about time he listened to at least one or a few stories told by the Elders. After the first week of border patrols and hunting patrols, he had finally decided to visit the Elders. He approached, his head held low, out of nervousness. Though, once they begun speaking to him, his anxiety eased, as the voices that slipped from the Elder's were mostly kind, except for maybe one or two grumpy ones. However, he didn't mind. Maybe he could get one of the grumps to tell a story or two as well. As each one told an individual story, he felt enlightened by each one. Maybe he should've attended more of the Elder's stories whilst he was a kit. At twenty moons, Thistleburr had received his very first apprentice. He wasn't quite sure how he wanted to go about it, considering he barely spoke to anyone after his father's death. The only feline he really had the nerves to speak to was Brightflower, and often his mother and other two siblings. It appeared that Brightflower and Thistlewhisper were the two dramatically effected by their father's death. Meanwhile, Silverwillow was already stalking around elsewhere, and something told Thistlewhisper she was doing something forbidden. He loved his mother, but this wasn't necessarily okay. He decided to sneak out one night after Silverwillow, whom was going to meet a loner, nightly. Or so, that's what Thistleburr found out. Without notice, Thistleburr reported his mother's situation to the leader of CoastClan out of frustration and disappointment to his mother's actions. Considering this was forbidden, Thistlewhisper suggested to his leader to exile her, nothing more, nothing less. He explained to his leader that he didn't think his mother was this way, but it could've been her way of getting over Whitejaw. Thistleburr's words were bitter in explanation, Silverwillow utterly bewildered at her son's actions. She never would've figured her son would betray her in such a way, but certainly it was due to her betrayal to Whitejaw and her kits. Thistleburr felt betrayed, and figured Whitejaw would feel the same way. Thistleburr requested he was the one to escort Silverwillow out of CoastClan, in which case was allowed. During the way out with his mother, Thistleburr began to speak with rage and his vocals cracked, "I can't believe you Mom, you could have just mourned like the rest of us instead of moving on so quick. Are you a mouse-brain?" He'd scowl, forcing himself not to look at his mother, "I personally believe your loyalty will only continue to worsen, and the next thing you know you're giving your first litter half-siblings of a mouse-dung of a loner!" With that, Thistleburr's pace slowed, the pawsteps of Brightflower behind them. Her aroma lurked within the air, close. "I am ashamed of you, Mother," Brightflower's pained vocalizations murmured, "You deserve no right to be in this clan after this. We wouldn't be so angered if you'd waited a couple moons, but so soon after his death? You're horrible." The two siblings dismissed themselves from the borders of the territory, leaving their mother speechless and hurt from their words. Thistleburr's training started out how he was trained, a week of learning the territory. His apprentice's name had been Minnowpaw, a small damsel. She was a delicate, quiet feline, just as Thistleburr technically was. Maybe this wouldn't be too hard after all. He had hoped to teach her his technique and strategy to hunt, as he excelled mostly at doing hunts. Sure, he excelled in other areas, but he enjoyed hunting the best. Minnowpaw hadn't complained, going along with everything that he had said. The great thing was, she appeared to be a quick learner and learned visually and through auditory. Thistleburr quickly became obsessed with having an apprentice, driving his energy and putting all of his efforts and focus to his apprentice. He wanted to prove that he could do much more than hiding in his silence and doing his duties. At first, many weren't confident that Thistleburr would be able to get the job done or maybe he just wasn't ready for an apprentice. He believed that he could prove them wrong, wanting to make sure Minnowpaw would become a great warrior, and hopefully better than himself. He gave himself little credit after the death of Whitejaw, feeling as though he'd fail if he attempted to save anyone else or a situation close to that sort. Thistleburr began teaching Minnowpaw in a way which replicated his mentors, explaining the topic with detail and physically showing the feline what was going on. With a quick learner, she'd become a warrior in no time. By the time she reached eleven moons, she was granted a warrior and named Minnowheart for her spirit and loyalty toward the clan. He had grown fond of his apprentice over time, being able to open up to her. She was easy to talk to, considering she was a great listener and offered good advice, just as Thistleburr tended to do often as well. Their similarities mix together well, forming a good, quality friendship. Throughout the next five moons, Thistleburr had battled bravely and survived with minimal wounds during a skirmish between TideClan and CoastClan. There were plenty of days where he'd volunteer extra in order to acquire respect and whatnot throughout the clan. He wanted to be seen as an honorable warrior and serve his clan well before his death. Thistleburr had begun to spend time with the clan's deputy, who he had quickly befriended. The two got along quite well, trusting Thistleburr to lead a number of patrols, even at his young age. He enjoyed leading border patrols, but still often struggled to chase out or harm any trespassers. He wasn't always the most aggressive tom, but deep down, a raging fire was boiling within the feline. A few moons after the skirmish, there was an event that had happened, which was during high tide when their leader was saving a kit from the ocean's waters. The leader drowned but ended up saving the kit's life. The current deputy, had to make a choice. What choice? The new deputy. As the current one stepped up and became leader, after the mourning of the previous leader, Thistleburr was chosen as deputy. Absolutely honored, he sauntered to meet the new leader, a small smile crossing his countenance. He was growing by the death, figuring himself out and learning the ways of the clans. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about becoming deputy, as he always saw himself dying as a respectable warrior. This was something more. He had the chance to become much more, or serve and pass away as the deputy. Whether or not he serves as the clan's leader, he promised the leader not to let anyone down from the moment he was chosen. the role player Alias • Gemini. Pronouns • She/Her What other Characters do you play? • Mistystar. |
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