e b o n y p a w [lovesgoldshard<3]

[Eagleh]

[Ebonypaw]

[all i am]

because i am tres sexy.


I go by the name of Ebonypaw.

I am a tom, thank you very much.

I am wise for my age at seven moons.

Enemies of ShadowClan, beware me.

Unfortunately, I have no family.

[you want more?]

[/left]and i fell into pieces, and she fell into me. saying play me a song it's been too long since i've heard you

sing.

a p p e a r e n c e

Ebonypaw is a large black tom with amber eyes.

His head is roundly shaped, tapering off to a blunt muzzle. His cheekbones stick out slightly, but they are impossible to see under his thick black fur. His eyes, a glowing shade of amber, sink slightly into his face. They are rounded and placed an equal distance from his ears. His ears are large and, you guessed it, black. The insides are a darker shade of pink, covered by thick black fuzz. In shape, the ears are round, but slightly short. They're blunt at the top instead of tapering to an almost sharp point.

As for his body, Ebonypaw is a rather heavyset tom. He isn't fat, so to speak, but he carries muscle around on his body. His limbs are strong and hardened, prepared to experience the harshest pain. His shoulders are strangly muscles, more so than those of other cats. His paw pads are tough and harsh, like those of cats accustomed to a harsher climate. It's the same with his fur, which is thick and wavy. And, yes, black. He moves with a certain grace, his limbs rippling under his glossy black pelt.

His tail is short and stubby, mirroring the rest of his body. Because of this, Ebonypaw has trouble keeping his balance sometimes.

xxx

p e r s o n a l i t y[/i][/u]

If there was one word in the whole wide world that could sum up Ebonypaw, it would be this: mysterious.

It's not that he's trying to be intrigiung by keeping to himself. He doesn't want to be fawned over, or beautiful she-cats trying to figure out his secret past and/or troubles.

No.

Ebonypaw was born in ShadowClan, the Clan of the marshes and the reeds; the pines and the carrion. The Clan where the wind blows colder than anywhere else. It hasn't frozen his heart; yet it has hardened it. Having no siblings and not being very attached to his mother, Ebonypaw has grown up with no one to talk too. He isn't that attached to anyone, and doesn't feel compelled to tell anyone anything. For this reason, he may seem somewhat dark or full of secrets.

But Ebonypaw doesn't have any secrets worth keeping. His life has been a constant routine of training, sleeping and eating. His sentences have barely more than five words at most. He doesn't like talking to others. His main focus is training, where he excels at fighting. He can hunt to a certain extent, but he'll never be as good as one of the better hunters. He can't run fast due to his thick form, and his weight often sends prey scurrying. But fighting is something he enjoys. He wants to fight. If Ebonypaw had his way, he would spend every second of the day in the training hollow, going over badger kicks with his mentor.

It isn't that Ebonypaw is anti-social, it's just that he doesn't find the others worth talking to. He believes that they might distract him from his training, and that one day they might cause him to question his loyalty to his Clan. The black apprentice doesn't want to risk that.

So he runs. He avoids conversations. He trains as hard as he can, eats a vole and crashes into his moss nest.

It's a way of life.

xxx

h i s t o r y

If you asked Ebonypaw about his past, he wouldn't tell you much. Now, he wouldn't tell you much anyways, but that isn't the point here. Hypothetically, if you were to ask him about his past and he were to reply in detail, it wouldn't be very long anyways.

This isn't because Ebonypaw doesn't like you or thinks that you're a waste of time. It's because he doesn't have much of a history to tell.

Like everything else in the black tom's life, his past has been uneventful. His mother was a ShadowClan warrior, a grey she-cat by the name of Cloudmask. His father was a large black tom, and a revered warrior in the Clan. Smokepelt fell in love with Cloudmask at an early age. They were convinced that it was the right thing for them to do. They loved each other, ergo, they belonged together. Soon after, Cloudmask became pregnant.

It was at this point when Smokepelt felt his love for Cloudmask fade. He abandoned her, strutting around once more. Not long after, he was killed in a battle with WindClan. When Ebonykit was born, Cloudmask didn't tell her son anything about the tom's father. When Cloudmask died of greencough, Ebonypaw was left all alone, with no information of his family.

So he shrugged it off. He brooded and sulked, giving off such a menacing air that the other kits left him alone. In this regard, he became detatched from them. He had no purpose. Well, until he was apprenticed. Now Ebonypaw has a goal. He wants to become a great warrior and service his Clan. Nothing more, nothing less.

And c'est la fin de l'histoire, les amis.

xxx

[and i said:]

like a rookie parademic to a siren, praying for an accident...

r o l e p l a y s a m p l e[/u]

It was cold. Pretty much a given, since it was always cold in the marsh at night. The wind was howling ferociously; thunder baying like a pack of wild dogs. Rain pelted down on the ground, turning dirt into mud and mud into a swirling vortex of rivers. The treeline, many fox-lengths away, was swaying with the breeze; the pine needles falling to the ground in a flurry. The blazing light of the sky as it split open was enough to blind any cat mouse-brained enough to be on the moor at night.

Ebonypaw trudged onwards, his feet covered in mud. His long fur was caught by the rain and the dirt, turning the tom's black pelt brown. His eyes were only half open, the tom squinting to shield them against the driving rain. For once he was glad of his short tail, not long enough to drag on the ground.

Almost angrily, his tail lashed (somewhat) through the air. The tom licked his chest fur in an attempt to at least feel a tiny bit clean, a futile gesture of resistance against the storm. But it wasn't the storm's fault that the black apprentice was out in the middle of the tempest. His mentor had berated him, saying that Ebonypaw would never be a good hunter.

Well, Ebonypaw would show him. The tom growled, twitching his short whiskers irritably. His strong shoulders rippled under his muddy pelt as he walked, the tom struggling to scent anything in the midst of the rain. His mentor had said that there were ground squirrels and chipmunks out on the marsh, but Ebonypaw couldn't catch them if the black tom kept using the same lumbering technique. Now, determined to be mouse-brained, Ebonypaw had come out to the fen in the middle of the storm.

The tom's thoughts drifted back to his warm nest back in the camp, surronded by the warm scent of pine trees. He sighed and looked behind him at the treeline, growing almost invisible in the greyness that was the rain. Angrily, Ebonypaw scuffed the ground with his paws. He couldn't turn back now.

He focused his attention on the task ahead of him, gingerly taking another step. His paw slipped in the mud, and the heavyset black tom found himself tumbling through the slimy substance. After the ground around him had stopped spinning, Ebonypaw shook away his dizziness and tried to climb to his feet. It did not good, and the tom slipped again, this time into a more watery patch of mud.

He got up more slowly this time, drenched in water and mud from muzzle to tail. His back began to itch, and an uncomfortable feeling began to spread over him. Water and sludge dripped from the tips of his ears above his ears, and the large tom sighed.

"Foxdung."

xxx[/color]

codeword[/i][/u]

ANTEDILUVIAN.

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