Whitekit - Whitepaw - Whiteviper - Viper
Age: 24 moons [Adult]
[ Fierce | Sarcastic | Impatient | Reckless | Good inner nature ]
[ Fierce ] : Viper is driven by a fierce, persistent determination to win and his guts in battle have proved to let him get a favorable result. However, his volatile emotions often turn into childish behavior and becomes tiresome to his friends. Viper himself cannot control his tumultuous soul. Even if seriously wounded, the moment he detects the presence of those he most protect at all costs he would completely forget the pain. The overflow of his emotions went beyond his body's limits. Viper is incredibly hotheaded and easy to upset, often striking out with his fists at the source of his annoyance. He often was seen even hitting little kids if they bothered him
[ Sarcastic ] : He may hold back many of his deep personalities such as being a softy or sweet. He doesn’t hold back being sarcastic, even though most of it is when he is being rude. He is very mean and sarcastic by nature and can’t go without sounding rude to someone for a period of time. He likes to say ‘Really’ in a sarcastic tone and such things as “I would have neevvver thought of that’ this gets under the cat’s noses easily, but you’ll eventually learn to live with it.
[ Impatient ] : It’s a habit for him to get impatient easily. He’s rather impatient when it comes to getting food or fighting someone. He always wants it now or just plainly get it done was soon as possible so he doesn’t have to have his tail torn off later. Rather than sitting in one area for a period of time, he’d most likely have to get up and sniff something out, just to waste time. He does hold a chivalrous side, as he refuses to physically harm she-cats under any circumstance (Unless they pick a fight with him). He is impatient by nature and can be very prideful, having much difficulty to admit he was wrong about something. During any arguments with she-cats, it takes a lot for him to accept his mistake.
[ Reckless ] : Rather than analyze matters, Viper runs on reckless emotion and-even if seriously injured in battle- he eventually achieved favorable results in the end. Viper's instinct and experience is a product of daily training. When he sees something new, his eyes light up and he tries to interact with it. Viper is dense and rather slow to catch on to something.
[ Good inner nature ] : However, despite how cynical and anti-social he outwardly behaves, the sides of himself that he reveals in casual moments exposes his good inner nature. He cannot hide his true feelings. Although his friends describe him as "easily deceived and honest to a fault" and "unable to understand the subtleties of the feline spirit", his personality is difficult to dislike. Viper is extremely susceptible to trickery, and has a blunt, almost brutal honesty about most things, which is why he often seems to be rude and disrespectful to others
[ Other ] : Viper has said that it's best to kill anyone who bares their teeth as soon as possible, but sometimes-special circumstances prevent him from doing so. He hates those that kill for fun and gladly rescues people in torment. He realized that all life is equally important which is a huge contrast from how he once was. Viper hates to kill felines and even if they are lowly bandits, he is consumed with guilt. He has a strong distaste for cats who ostracized from others for just being different, which he likens to his own lonely, miserable childhood.
-Two over sized fangs
-Light pink stripes
-Long fur on head and stomach
-He's an albino
-Secretly has a kind hert
-He loves fish
-Personally likes to sleep upwards; against a tree or the side of his den.
It all began in the clan Of stones. A newly named warrior Whitefrost. Of course she was a great cat and earned the name. She and a few other cats gathered for 'their' first patrol alone. That day she was not the only one to be named a warrior. Her sister and best friend strolled with her. That day the three was threatened by a tom called Blackwing. He held the name of a warrior also. His name also redirected the meaning since he was an albino. He was chaste out of Stoneclans territory but was never forgotten by Whitefrost. She had seemed to grow a certain liking to this tom and had many questions about him. It was a gloomy damp day when she decided to find him. But of course she did. The same tom who was not a warrior but a rogue but held the name of one. He wasn't like any other rogue and was plight to Whitefrost. The two began to talk more and more each day. His mother soon began to fall in love with this tom and so did he. It was soon when she was bed ridden but because she had gotten pregnant. This was to be expected by the two since they were practicably mates, but of course forbidden. Unable to see her mate, she stayed in the clan as her belly grew swollen by the day.
It was then during a tremendous busy day and many clans were in war when Whitefrost had gone into labor. She was helped out by their medicine cat, Willowsleep since she was given a hard time baring them. As soon as all three were born, they all looked like there mother; white and tan spots seeping through out their body. But there was one that resembled the father perfectly. This kit was the only kit to survive the batch and so she named him Whitekit out of any effort. Haunted that two out of three of her kits died she divorced him; his mother refused to feed him and his father wanted nothing to do with him. His father not wanting any part of his life was due to his own personality and him being kicked out of his own clan for unknown reasons. As soon as the small white kit could stand he was picked on for being a half breed, also known as being half rogue. Kits didn't know that no matter what he was still Stoneclan kit.
His "bad attitude", foul language, extreme self-confidence are comparable to that of an orphaned kitten street punk who has been forced to fend for himself from the age of perhaps three moons and older.
With the incredible strength and personality of his father within his blood line, Whitekit is able to survive hostile encounters with other kits and apprentices. At the age of five moons he was stronger than many full apprentices, his constantly being targeted by them due to his half-clan status which inevitably fueled his desire to become stronger.
At the age six moons, the once known Whitekit was named Whitepaw.
For all his strength and stamina, Viper's strength is useless against more skilled fighters and opponents who are adaptable and or rely more on their wits. As noted by many onlookers and opponents, he has no proficiency, adaptability, or improvisation or martial ability, relying on predictable, head-on energy attacks and wide, unfocused strikes that usually miss their mark. His overall thoughtless approach to combat has been proven to be his downfall many times, allowing enemies to explote gaping holes in his attack patterns.
While powerful for a rogue, Viper, on his own, is relatively unimpressive compared to full-warriors and apprentices with more versatile abiliites, posssessing only brute strength and a moderately impressive healing ability and senses. His abiliites both make up for his poor technical ability and his lack of range and attack diversity; this has only served to further his poor technique to the point.
- "I just don't like giving up. There's a difference!"
- "Feh! Serves him right."
- "Eh! Grow up!"
- "You'r really starting to get on my nerves..."
- "Get off my back will yeah!"
- "Peh, Your not worth it"
- "Just shut up"
- Parents -
Blackwing † (father) Whitemist † (mother)
- Mate - Bandit
- Kit(s) - None
= Good friend/Best friend
The air was tinted with a faint dusky smell, brought to the young cats nose by a swift breeze. Passing through the field of reeds, the wind wade them sway together, sliding past each other in their dance, creating a steady rhythm. Swish, swish, swish. Humming along with the beat, Redpaw walked with his eyes closed. The reeds were pulling at his fur, bending over him like some sort of limp octopus. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was blocked by clouds, so it wasn't unbearable hot. Actually, the wind made it rather chilly, though warmth was still provided by the suns rays. To Redpaw, it was the perfect day.
Continuing on, Redpaw seemed to be headed nowhere in specific. As a matter of fact, he wasn't really headed anywhere. He had been practicing in an open field, and decided to talk a walk, promising himself he would come back later. Of course, he still intended to go back, but not for a while. All his extra time went into practicing, and he wanted a bit of change. The reeds were his favorite place to be. They were very calming to him. Especially with the wind to orchestrate their dance. A stronger wave of wind passed through the field, causing the reeds to bend even farther towards the ground. It plastered Redpaws fur to his side, but he kept walking, humming the song that had been so rudely interrupted.
When the wind calmed down, the rhythm began again, and Redpaw soon picked up with the new tempo. However, now he was walking with his eyes open, and dancing to his humming. Before long, he had come to a small clearing hidden within the reeds. It wasn't really a clearing, but the plants were thinner here, and he could actually see through them. In several spots, there was room enough for three cats to sit in a circle and have a nice conversation. The happy-go-lucky apprentice smiled at his discovery. He didn't doubt that others had been here, but he never had. The field was so huge, he wasn't surprised. Even despite the fact that he spent a good share of his time here. His eyes were bright with excitement. Bounding to a clear spot, he let out a small laugh, and rolled onto his back, batting at the air with his front paws. Squirming onto his side, he closed his eyes, basking in the sun. His tail swayed from side to side, and a lingering purr echoed through the fields, mixing with the rustling in the air.
Art / Character © Whitelinxanimator500
Clans of the North © SeekingLucidity