Posts by frailpaw

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His belly or lack thereof strained away at its capacity to move with the air that filled his narrow lungs. He was still a tad shaken from his sprint across the legendary Thunderpath and felt as if he could faint on the spot. Yet, he'd bear his face and let others come to meet him. He had been hidden away so very long it felt high time he showed that he was still alive to them all. "Ah-uh-greetings. I'm Frailpaw." He doubted any could recall his face before. His mother was unheard of around Shadowclan's reach and as for his father, well, even he could not muster a familiar face for that one.

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He thought at first that the pelt was a welcoming color, one of a person who admired other people and yearned to understand them. Evidently he had been mistaken- horribly mistaken. No thoughts were produced on the mismatched eyes other than how cool they shone. His own lacked a lively glow and were already finding their way to the earthen floor. Take a gander at that rock, hadn't seen one like it before. Each crag was traced by a slit gaze and he tried his best to keep his irregular heartbeats at an almost normal rate. The cat grew closer and closer and now Frail began shuffling nimble toes in the grit. How many people do you think walked over this stuff? His breath hitched. Steps had stopped and a shadow crossed over his scraggly frame. When a voice matched the body Frail felt utterly betrayed and outcast. It had to be true, yes, yet that did not soften the sting. It worked its way through his veins and seeped an ice hot cold. He wanted to fight back though there were no words that came craftily and conveniently to his mind. Instead, he stared at the claws inches away from the other Shadowclanner's own. He felt like burying his head so that he'd suffocate. This situation had never been planned out in his head. If prior knowledge had told him that this would happen he would have stayed as far away from civilization as he could. Mouth dry, he ran his tongue around it quietly for a moment. The guy had the nerve to give his name. What could Frailpaw do with that, huh? He was already terrified as it was to speak to the guy let alone address him in the future. "Pleasure." He saved Oleanderpaw his name. He didn't think the guy would want it after that introduction.

He looked a low lying doormat, didn't he? What else was he to do. Death already became a goal and with his bad health he supposed he'd be reaching it shortly. Perhaps it'd come off as less submissive if he turned. Yeah, he'd turn. Lank and all rotated away while his tail curled at an uncertain and awkward angle. Contentedness was long gone out of his mind so it was the only way he could position his tail.

This little guy had a brighter atmosphere around him. He felt his spirits picking up promptly and had courage plenty to pick up those sorry pupils and rest them on the kid. He was purring! Could it get friendlier than that? "Hey, Hollykit. I'm Frailpaw. You too." He felt a timid smile lurking onto his own striped face.

Huh? What? Lost in the happiness little Hollykit generated, the tom had been oblivious to another cat joining the group. "Hi. I...I'm alright. This happens a lotta times." Thankfully the panting was wearing off yet one could tell by his still slouched posture that something else must be at play within his skeletal form.

Kind of the guy to care, Frail reckoned. He just didn't want to see an angry Oleanderpaw. Grouchiness became evident on the Maine Coon's big features and he supposed he wouldn't hold it against him. One should have their bad days in the humid environment with long fur such as the tom's. What mattered was that he wasn't set on making him see a sad truth that hung there and that Oleander had already asserted. "Uh-"

Oleander was replying for him! Okay, a need for being so rude about it was nonexistent though Oleander was proving the obvious. Hey, the better for him. Frail's sense of sociability was waning thin and he made a desperate glance at the apprentice's den here and then. All this pressure building up inside of him was too restricting and the solution had to be to get away from what brought it on. He felt pangs of sadness for Oleander. He had to be trying to make it through with all this buzzing around him. Maybe that was what ticked him off in the first place. The big tom was no help to it and he had to have that rising burden on his chest too. The missed factor was that he was near to that bursting. It pried at him and kicked at him and antagonized him so. All he could mutter in his head was "Poor Oleander".

"He's right, sir. I've been here my whole life. It was a mistake, Oleanderpaw. Certain it was." His fixation turned back to the ground. Pretty, pretty rocks. Shimmers and ripples of light swirled down the miniature mountain sides of the stones.

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City life sounded strange to say the least. His whole world was within the forest, specifically Shadowclan's baking, sweltering swamps. He had crossed the Thunderpath two times prior to the more recent escapade across and back from it. Monsters only excited him and he felt a high sort of feeling whenever one rushed past and disturbed his short fur. He only hoped they would avoid crushing his twig-like body. It'd go easily and there'd be not a trace of him left if one did happen to dive for him. It was sad how already someone had managed to forget his existence. Frailpaw supposed he should start expecting that. He slunk along and could make like a wisp of a breeze if he did not pay attention which frequently seemed to be the case.

Turning it over a while longer, Frail concluded he never could survive in a city. Dogs ran loose and the two-legs inhabited the whole area. His biggest fear had to be them and them exclusively. Dogs were dumb and dopey while two-legs could control the very monsters that destroyed the brittle bodies of cats and their prey alike. They'd sooner euthanize him then keep him safe.

The thought of two-legs began to worry him and he knew a breath of fresh air would be good for him.

Twig legs dipped gently and led him into the moon's cooling light. It welcomed him seeing as how it had been a long time friend through his minor tribulations alongside anxieties. He could get lost in its dreamy milky gaze. This did in fact take place for a moment before he pulled away and felt a tugging at his barren stomach for a nip of food. His nose guided him towards the pile of corpses and a runty mouse soon became pressed neath a flimsy paw. He leaned down and gnawed off an ear before getting distracted once again by the gentle eve's night. Gorgeous. Any other sight in the world was a disappointing one compared to this.

Ow! Dribbles of blood fell down black lips and he swiped them with an agile tongue only to give a whisper of a whimper again as his tongue felt the same pain. Those teeth of his had pressed into his cheek and then the aforementioned victim. However was he to get along with the things? They ruined his day and made him want to tear each tooth from his maw. Why did he deserve this? Slowly he swallowed the iron flavor mixed with the sliver of tissue he had nipped from the body. A glossiness set over his eyes.

Then he heard a flicker of movement. His shivering body turned and in a cloak of shadows did he find a large gaze. Oh. "Hullo.", he gurgled out as he held his poor tongue out. Night's light breeze might aid it.

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He liked the dawn. Really, he liked any time of day as long as it kept a tranquil veil over it and curled ever so quaintly. He was instinctively called to rise into the early light, stretch awkward limbs, then lay jerkily upon his barren and small excuse for a belly when he caught the shadow of some wayward drifter caught in the silence. "Hey.", he softly mewed to the other, keeping it down as was possible of him.

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Name:: Frailpaw
Appearance :: Reference
Fur type :: Short
Body type :: Extremely skinny; emaciated
Scars :: None
Personality / resting mood :: Hopeful; distracted; dreamy
Anything else? :: He has a few really screwed up teeth. Up to you what you want to do with them and which ones they are :)!
Other :: Your art is adorable ~

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This here's Frailpaw and e's a lil' gentle guy who's easily distracted and captivated by small things. He has a sort of innocence although he is pretty brave. Another minor thing to note is that he's anorexic.

He'd be OPEN to:
- Friends
- Enemies
- Crushes
- Being captured
- Minor injury
- Fighting
- Joining other clans
- Training
- Mentors

He's CLOSED to:
- Mates
- Being killed
- Litters

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That'd be super sweet! I'll make a thread in a few ^^

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Curved yet straight ears creased the soft night's wind and a gaze of large pupils partnered with it. He was near the border; he could sense it. Reek and claw marks here and there told him this had to be the absolute truth. Yet, he felt a quiver of unease. He would think twice before shivering over it and turning tail. He could fight whatever it was or give it a smack or two. Starclan, even if he broke those fragile bones he'd still give it all he had.

"Hullo.", he softly called, unsure of whether he'd get an answer back and, if he did, that whoever replied was as genial as could be.

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@rosalie
Here you go! Sorry for the delay :)

@Branchpaw
Ofc!Here it is ~

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"Want one?", he considered after a brief glance at the soft blur of fur that made it into his wondrous field of vision. "You can have 'um all." His belly ached, pined and whined. He would avoid stuffing it, though. A skinny warrior would be an ideal one and if he wanted to be in that league then he might as well stick to watching his weight. What he failed to notice was the toll it had taken on his health. He always looked greatly exhausted and occasionally threw up what little morsels he had picked as his meals for the day. This frog felt like it would fall under that category. Already his stomach began to quake and indicate its rejection of his nourishment.

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Ah! Right...the Warrior Code. He had completely forgotten. The bad thing was he was almost certain he'd forget it again. Could there be loopholes? What if it was the only meal he was getting for a day and instead he decided he'd offer it to the guy and that would be the end of it. Wasting food on himself would be an outcry. "I'm so sorry. Yeah, I understand. Guess frog would sound nasty if you haven't had it before." It was literally the only food he thought he could stomach within Shadowclan territory. Pretty sad, he supposed. He finally retracted the corpse and decided he'd sneak it to some lucky apprentice later that eve. They'd sure enjoy a lot more than he could.

"You're from Thunderclan, huh. How's it going over there?" From what he knew, Thunderclan and Shadowclan weren't exactly on buddy-buddy terms but they tolerated one another. It didn't effect his mood or nature at all. He simply went a-smiling quite sheepishly on.

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@BATPAW --
Yup, yup, yup! Thread'll be up in a few. I'll shoot ya a PM with it~

@Wasppaw
Totally down! I'll make in just a few

@sheeppaw
That's so sweet and yes, ofc! Will make right after Wasppaw's :)

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"Mornin'." Other conversational words declined to present themselves and thus he sat with a timid beam, rather, light upon his striped face. He had seen the other around before and found it fine to perhaps get to know him from this sole run-in. He'd been sunning before and the interruption could bother him less. Company in whatever form meant content.

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"Hullo. Where're you from?" On second thought that had come out unwelcoming. "I mean-uh-if you don't mind telling me! Sweet Starclan, that was rude of me." To hide his embarassment, the young tom turned towards a curious flighty bird that chirped away in a tree. Reminded him of how blabbery he had been to say what he did. Oh, goodness!

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"Poor lil' fella.", he huffed, staring sadly down upon the roadkill rabbit. It's rib cage lay open to the world and it had left it without a prayer of thanks to its sacrifice. It was worse than sacrifice, it was straight up murder. Purpose came up empty for such a reason for the prey to meet its end. All he could do was tug it away towards the grass and dig it a final resting place.

"Hey, couldja' lend a paw, please? If it's no bother 'r anything." He had seen the girl lurking close and since other felines who may find their interaction uncalled for were absent, he saw it as a safe request.

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Huh? What? Were they getting into a fight? Sounded more like verbal abuse which did not strike as hard to him. Big eyes pondered and wondered on as the bustle of the two clans crashed in to one another. Blood trailing down their faces for nothing didn't sound appealing to him. They should all be grateful that their fellow Shadowclanner was returned but of course the idea that they were another clan brewed a fiery glass of hate and trouble. When they had left, Frailpaw turned wordlessly to his peers. Why did things have to be this way?

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The commotion drew a formerly captivated Frailpaw over to where the team waited for their next meal. With ears turned towards the water, he crept as quietly as he could so as to avoid scaring off the prey. Soon he found himself focusing only on the sound of the water and stopped altogether to pay further attention to it. How calming; how nice; how pretty.

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Helping the community, that was thoughtful of her. A warrior may blink once and decide they could give less of a care over what happened to a pre-killed rabbit. She had some class; she really did. "Thanks a ton, Sheeppaw. Sure would." To her referral of niceness he gave her a sorry smile and turned back to his work. Sweet of her to let him know that but he didn't feel he was much of an anything enough to be called that. There were cats that prayed for everything and anyone and he did little of that. An enemy was hard to love and forgive yet they brought themselves to pardoning them. Frailpaw knew he'd never find it in himself to dismiss any wrong done to his clan. He'd tear himself up before he forgot it all.

"Here, I'll go 'head and dig and I'll letcha' know when it's ready." Twig limbs returned to their work in shoveling and kicking repeatedly. He knew he wouldn't like for her to disturb her coat. It must be a pain to work roots, pebbles, and dirt out of that head. What would be a miserable thing would be for her to get objects and earth stuck in the neck of lighter hair. It'd melt in and the inability to make it blend in would be unavoidable. He should be thankful for his own short wool. After thinking all this, he had completed a wider bowl in the ground and now dragged himself out of it. "In 'e goes.", Frail prompted.

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"Phew. I 'polgoize for over-reacting there. Or was I over-reacting? I dunno. I probably was. Anyways, I'm sorry for that. Nothing's your fault." He shook his head as if to prove his loyalty to his words.

"You're not hurting anybody. Don't see why you shouldn't be able to come over." All the clans lived in constant fear of one another in their own special way. Lashing out, staying passive, or being especially tough about the borders was their only way of coping with this. Frailpaw entirely hated the strict border beliefs and as for being uncivil, well, he couldn't loathe someone less for that. "It's nice to meet you all the same, Wasppaw." To be truthful, the apprentice had been in the dark for whatever was the current buzz of the clans and "group". To bring it up would make him play the role of a fool.

Wasppaw's concern made the boy lighter-hearted. To understand that there were other cats out there that cared for others was a reassuring thought. A better reaction would be met whenever Skyclan should be mentioned again, if ever. Shadowclan had (to his clueless knowledge) no ties to the name. "I'm fine, thanks for askin'. You? No, no, we're doing A-OK. How's Skyclan?" Prosperity should be a nationwide affair within all the territories. Newleaf brought kits, fresh winds, vegetation, loads of prey, and a certain contentedness that became shied away from during the rest of the year and leading up to the special time.

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TRAITS — Frail's a quaint, gentle guy who's curious about almost everything. He has a knack for observing and then forgetting shortly after. Some elements stick with him though the number of those that do is few. He is a brave soul who will fight if need be. He discourages fighting, respectively, and hates to see the clans frothing and scratching at each other. He feels that since they are all cats and have similar systems, they should all work towards the greater good of their species and do their share to avoid turmoil within. Another quality to remember about him is his stubbornness. If he believes whole heartedly in an idea or opinion he will stick it out and might be so fixed to it that he wants another to adopt his view.

APPEARANCE — A darling little emaciated thing, his fur is a silver blue grey lightly licked with darker shaded spots and streaks. His brown eyes have a faint, almost hopeless glow. White gray seeps down his tiny muzzle, brightens the spot just above his eyes, makes up the insides and outside of his ears, melts down his chest to his belly and finally ends on his legs. The exception being the top part of his fore left paw where only a speck of white is found on the toes and his other fore paw which is mostly covered in that same dull silver save for the same toe spot.

Due to a few deformed and snaggled teeth pressing into his gums and causing discomfort, Frail is anorexic.

ART —

HISTORY — Frail was created on March 17th, 2017. He is presumed to have lived in Shadowclan all his life alongside his nameless, fairly unknown NPC mother: Shiverleaf. He cannot remember who his father is or if he is in stable conditions.
——— introduction (3/17/17)