Character Name:
Brackennose
Character Age:
62 moons
Gender:
Tom
Alliance:
ThunderClan
Rank:
Warrior
Appearance:
This tom has lost his handsome, young looks. When he was younger, he had large, strong muscles, short well-kept fur, and barely a scratch on him. But now that he is faster and faster approaching the age to retire, Brackennose looks older and older by the moon. His dark brown tabby fur is shaggy and covered in many scars from battles fought long ago, not to mention that ticks somehow keep finding their way into his pelt! He has a scar on the base of his tail, over his back, over his chest and face, and his right ear is badly torn.
Yet, this tom's eyes, they haven't changed since day one. The old warrior has bright olive eyes, with flecks of amber and yellow streaking around his pupil. They seem to see all, know all, and tell all that this tom has seen.
His build has sank somewhat; instead of large, broad shoulders, this tom now has slightly sagging muscles, thin and frail with age, his pelt clings and hangs off of him. If somecat had seen him lying down, he would almost look like a dead warrior! But, this is too be expected with age, and something this still well-clawed and fiery skilled tom takes in stride, although he is slowly beginning to lose his hearing, especially in his right ear.
Personality:
Even though this tom may be old, he is still lively! He is first up in the morning, ready to great any cat he meets with a friendly hello, and will invite any cat to join him on a patrol. Brackennose will always lend a helping paw when needed, but tends to stay back and out of the way when he has to take sides; he's not good with sympathy or voicing his own opinion.
But at the best of times, this dark brown tabby can be seen running around the clearing, chasing after kits playfully if he has already gone on his hunting and border patrols. He especially loves it when they ask for stories; the elderly tom loves to share moments of his youth to them, and hopes they have exciting, although much less dangerous, lives than he has had.
Be careful though; with his growing age, Brackennose is more prone to sharp outbursts then he once was, especially when he or his clan is insulted. The tom has been known to scratch noses and bite ears for something as simple as saying he looks like a bag of bones.
---Likes:
Eating
Taking walks/talking with close friends
Reminiscing of older days
Telling stories to kits
Warm days, especially mornings
--- Dislikes:
Ticks/bugs in general
Disobedient cats
ShadowClan cats
Loud noises
Birds
Dogs and badgers
---Strengths:
Still a great tracker
Still an able fighter
Great with younger cats and/or kits
---Weaknesses:
With age, his skills are slowly growing weaker
Prone to moments of forgetting what time he is in (ie, mistaking living cats for ones that are now dead)
Hearing is starting to go
Prone to bad tempered outbursts when his clan or himself is insulted
History (8 or more sentences):
Now, this is where this tom's life gets interesting! It's been full of many courageous battles against animals and cats alike, and loves to share his stories with kits.
Brackennose has a rather pure ThunderClan bloodline. Where as most cats have some other clan or outsider mixed in with their close family, the only cat closest to him that had mixed blood was his great, great, great, great grandmother, whose grandfather was WindClan.
His parents, Dewfeather and Mossypelt, were great parents; they loved each and every one of their kits just as much, maybe even more, than other parents loved theirs. They took their time in naming them; they waited at until they could find what name suited each kit best. Gorsekit was named for her golden fur, a lot like her mothers own pelt; Larchkit was named for his long, grey-brown tabby fur; and Brackenkit was named for his brown tabby fur which grew darker over the moons.
Now, sometimes bad things happen to good cats, and this family was nothing short. When they were close to apprenticeship, a dog stole into the camp, going straight for the nursery. His father was first to notice the attack, but it was too late; one of the other queens had been horribly hurt trying to protect the kits, and Larchkit had been killed. Dewfeather and Mossypelt were both distraught over the death of their kit, as was every other cat in the clan. Gorsekit and Brackenkit grew quiet for the next moon, growing a loathing for dogs, until they both became apprentices.
Brackenpaw's first mentor, Icefang, was a large, imposing and brutish mentor; he trained Brackenpaw to the point of exhaustion and even had to spend a few days in the medicine cat den until he regained his strength. Yet again, things just had to change for the worse. While out on his second outing after resting up with his mentor, a rogue attacked them, leaving his mentor dead and his apprentice defenseless. But just before the rogue did any serious damage, other than shredding the young toms ear, a patrol came and chased the rogue away.
That night, after mourning the death of his mentor, he was giving Honeydapple, a bright, young, although stern and focused she-cat for his new mentor. She taught the tom that you may lose your hearing, voice and sight, but you can never lose your sense of smell. With every apprentice he has taught, he has passed it down, and has trained some of the brightest and best trackers the clan has seen. Brackenpaw passed his assessments with ease, especially tacking ones and grew a small little love for the golden tabby.
On the night his sister and himself were given their warrior names, Gorsestripe and Brackennose, it seemed like too quiet of a night to the tom. And he had reason to be on edge; badgers had been reported at the border for the past three sunrises leading to his vigil, but the night passed without an alarm called. In the small moments of the morning, when the sun was just creeping up over the horizon, that's when the attack happened. Storming the camp, two very large badgers attacked. The clan easily fought them off, outnumbering them and leaving them with some very bad scars, but not without loss. In the corner of the camp, found side by side with claws unsheathed and fright in their eyes, was the bodies of Mossypelt and Dewfeather. They had died defending the camp, and side by side in the last moments of their life.
No camp in the clearing that night had mourned more than Brackennose. His sister seemed as if she was now missing something and often carried an air of solidarity around her. This was also the battle where the tom gained the scars on his tail and over his chest.
Now, nothing too serious happened until the next ten moons of the toms life; his sister took a mate and was expecting kits and he had started to train his first apprentice passing on what the now deceased Honeydapple had taught him. She had died from a thorn sticking in her paw and growing severely infected, but before she passed, she confessed to Brackennose that she had always wanted to become something more with the tom. The tom was both happy and saddened to happy to hear this, but regretted not asking before.
The dark tabby tom had a great time teaching this apprentice until a moon of training had passed; something had changed in the young tom. He seemed flighty and paranoid, like something was always watching him, and lost track easily of what lessons he was being taught or what time of day it was. It turned out, the tom had caught the foaming mouth disease. The medicine cat could do nothing for the tom, and one day, he snapped. Storming from the camp, the apprentice cursed the clan and threatened to one day return. It wasn't a day later that the body of the tom was found on the border between ShadowClan and ThunderClan, foam at his mouth and claw marks through his throat.
Even though the tom had left the clan, Brackennose always felt close to the tom, and had blamed ShadowClan for his death.
Two moons later, Gorsestripe had had her kits. She named them all right off the back, much from the urgings of her mate, and named them Frogkit and Ravenkit. They both looked like their father, much to his sister's dismay, but eventually she got over it.
Again, there is another dry spell to this tom's stories; either forgotten with age or unimportant, the tom did not have another unlucky mishap until fifteen moons later. ShadowClan invaded the camp, taking it by surprise, and in the fighting, Gorsestripe had been killed. Of course, the tom mourned over her, but her kits seemed very distraught. Frogleap's and Raventail's father had blamed them for the death of his mate, and vowed never to help them in a fight. Of course, this was only proved to be true when ShadowClan attacked a moon later seeking more land; their father had joined the ShadowClan cats, dying in the process from an accidental fang to the neck from his eldest son, Frogleap. He had been personally attacked by his father, and trying to frighten the tom away, accidentally landed the death blow, not being able to move his fangs out of the way in time. But his father got his revenge; he gouged his claw into his son's throat, both of them dying in the battle. In this battle, he gained the last two scars accountable on his body, the ones over his back and the one between his eyes.
When this tom was 55 moons, having trained a nervous apprentice right after the death of his nephew in the short while, Brackennose was given another one. She was rambunctious and playful, but nothing this tom couldn't handle. He taught her well, passing on everything he could muster unto the apprentice, and still passed down his second mentors wise teachings.
When she was names, Brackennose told the leader he no longer wanted to mentor; the moons leading down to his retirement were going to be spent doing all he now could to support the growing clan as best he could in his mounting age, and now the old dark brown tabby passes his stories onto the kits in the clan, hoping to give them wise words of wisdom.
Mentor(s): Icefang (D), Honeydapple (D)
Apprentice(s): Littlepaw (D), Second open, Seedwhisker
Roleplay Sample (Required for first advanced bio):
NFB
Comments (optional):
There! Whoa, that took me a good hour!!! D:
