Frostpelt hopes to find love...(Tom)

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    First, a little bio:
    Frostpelt is a Tom, and is extremely shy. He feels isolated in Thunderclan, although he has many friends. The one thing he wants more than ANYTHING is a mate.
    -Icy blue pelt
    -Sharp blue eyes
    -Friendly, kind, caring, passionate, and loyal
    -Strength: Agile
    -Weakness: extremely ticklish XD




    Frostpelt gazed out into the lake as he sat and curled his tail around his paws. He came to the lake often, reflecting on the day, as well as his life in general. "If only there was someone..." he thought to himself.

    Whitesock, a tortoise shell she-cat with one white paw, was padding around in the forest, musing on the time when she refused to talk because of a past mistake. Luckily two cats befriended her during that time and with their help, Whitesock was able to draw away from her problem, though she still had flashes of her dead brother beside a stream, attacked by a fox. As she walked, she soon picked up a fresh scent of a ThunderClan cat. The patrol haven't been out here yet today. she thought, confused. Curiosity drove her on and soon the scent became strong right beside the lake. She slowly walked out of the trees and found her clan mate, Frostpelt, sitting at the edge of the lake, deep in thought. "Frostpelt?" she mewed quietly. "What're you doing out here?"

    OOC: Her past mistake is that she gave away her brother's secret that he loved a rouge. ThunderClan banished him and later that day she found his body by a stream, clawed and scratched and broken from a fox.... so that's her history and you know the color of her pelt. She has olive eyes. She still has problems of flashbacks of her brother and even though she overcome her refusal to speak, she still has a hint of doubt that she'll ruin another cat's life somehow. She was very talkative before her brother died and that's how she gave away his secret. She's becoming less and less scared of talking so she is becoming more of her talkative self. Her weakness is her...talking! (Big surprise :P) and her also the fear I mentioned before - Her strengths.... she is great at attack moves and is very fast. Her personality (of what I haven't mentioned) : she is kind and sweet. She wouldn't intentionally hurt any cat.

    Frostpelt turned his head, "Oh, hey Whitesock. I didn't expect to see you here..." He spoke quietly and calmly, but the edge in his voice gave away that something was troubling him.

    Whitesock frowned. "What's wrong, Frostpelt?" she asked worriedly. She padded forward and gingerly sat beside Frostpelt. "You can trust me." She gazed into his eyes, wondering what could be troubling the tom.


    OOC: I don't know how you want them to fall in love.... do you want them to have always had a crush on each other or they start liking each other :)

    "Oh, it's nothing..." he said shyly, pawing the ground. He gazed down at his paws, wondering if, and how he should explain.


    OOC: It doesnt matter, maybe friends growing up? :P

    OOC: Okay :) sounds cool


    IC: Whitesock sat in silence for moment, wondering what to say. "We've been friends since kits, Frostpelt," she gently reminded him. "I know when things are bothering you." She knew by the sound of his voice and the way he was pawing the ground that it wasn't 'nothing'.

    Frostpelt hesitated, and finally gave in. "Well..." he started, "for the past few moons, nobody has really spoken to me. I feel like I'm not wanted..."

    "Not wanted," Whitesock echoed, surprised. "Why would you think that, you're one of our most agile cats!" She stared at Frostpelt, confused and concerned. She heaved sighed full of regret when she remembered how long it had been since she shared tongues with the blue warrior or even said 'hi' to him. "I'm sorry," Whitesock mumbled, full of shame. "I didn't mean to ignore you along with the rest of the cats, it's just . . . life goes on and it gets busy . . . I just don't find free time anymore." She brushed her tail over his flank comfortingly. "The clan can't afford to lose you or your skills." She pressed up against Frostpelt, hoping he will see how sorry she really was.

    Frostpelt smiled slightly, seeing the truth in Whitesock's eyes. "Its alright," he said, his voice sounding noticably clearer. He softly pressed his pelt against her, glad that he had Whitesock as a friend.

    Whitesock gazed out over the lake with her pelt still pressed against Frostpelt's. "It's so beautiful here," she purred with content. She realized that she wanted this moment to go on forever. Do I want him to be more then a friend? Whitesock wondered. I couldn't . . . I mean we're best friends.

    Frostpelt looked down at his own reflection, and when he finally turned back to Whitesock, he saw that her pelt seemed to reflect the moonlight. "Yeah," he mewed softly, "Sure is."

    When Frostpelt turned his head towards her, Whitesock saw his bright eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Her ears grew hot. I don't know what to say anymore, she thought. "It's getting awful dark," she started carefully. "Do you want to do some night hunting before heading back or do you want to stay here a while?" Her big grey eyes never left his as she waited for him to answer.

    "Alright, my paws are itching for a good run, let's hunt!" Whitesock purred like a young kit. She scrambled to her paws and waited for Frostpelt to do the same.

    Frostpelt got up, though not nearly as quickly as Whitesock did. It had been a long day, but Frostpelt was always up for a good hunt. "Laidies first," he told her, smiling.

    Whitesock smiled with pure pleasure evident on her face. "Thanks," she mewed. She started to pad back in the forest and turned back to see if Frostpelt was following, though she knew he was. Whitesock turned around again and tasted the air, instantly picking up the scent of prey. She crouched down low, looking around. She saw in he corner of her eye a plump blackbird. She carefully turned to the side keeping her tail still as to not rustle any leaves under paw. She flicked her ears to tell Frostpelt to stay silent. She gently, but swiftly, carried herself, stomach skimming the earth, over to her prey. She was a few rabbit leaps away when the bird let out a terrified call and flew up, but Whitesock was faster. She sprang up in the air with all the grace of a swan and lightly fell back down again, a limp bird in her jaws.

    Frostpelt pureed in amusement, "With you on the hunt, there wont be any prey left for the rest of us!" He tickled her nose playfully, and then began to taste the air.

    Whitesock swatted Frostpelt ears to return his playful tickle. She flew dirt over her blackbird then stood still, tasting the air. Her mouth watered with the scent of prey everywhere. I'll let Frostpelt do it this time, she decided.

    Frostpelt dropped down into a hunters crouch, and tasted the air yet again. His eyes locked on to a spot on the ground, and within seconds, Frostpelt held a limp squirrel in his jaws. He dropped it in front of Whitesock, smiling.