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Post by Breeze--Gone13-25-- on Jun 8, 2009 19:41:57 GMT -5
Name: Shroud
Gender: Tom
Age: 29 moons
Rank: Rogue
Short Description:
He was always the slighter one of his family. Although, his family was made of big cats. Which leaves Shroud floundering somewhere in the middle. All his muscles seem to lie mostly in his forelegs. His jump is average, but as soon as he gets his front half on you you're up for a match. It's been said that one swipe can crack a rat's skull. If that's true or not, no one really knows. His pelt is silver with streaks and rays of both faded and bright whites. In the wilderness he sticks out like a sore thumb, but in mists he fits in so perfectly you would never know he was there unless he did something to reveal himself. His eyes are also a grey color. There is nothing colorful about him it seems. In ways he's almost like a wraith.
Wisping around his legs and neck is a slight ruff. From far away it may look like fog darting around his feet and neck. Up close, it is more clear to see that in fact it is but long fur only growing around his neck and down his back and wings on his feet (not real wings, just the term). These locks of long fur are the darkest parts on him, being so grey that they may appear to be black.
Short Personality:
There's never much to say around him. In truth, conversation is his biggest loss. He'll talk, but never much. His personality is colored as bland as his looks from the outside. Yet, inside there is such expanses of starless night, that not even the longest bridge could cover the void. Because that's Shroud's flaw. There is nothing to him. He has emotions, but they are hidden so deep that it seems that they will never be uncovered.
If one were to unearth them, though, what they found would be surprising. Kind is to small for Shroud's benevolence. He cares for others so much that he never thinks of himself. How could such feeling simply vanish? His brothers stole away not only his mate, but his soft spirit, too. Some part of him broke, there was blood, and not just of his mate and brother. His soul bled that day, too. Everything went out of him, and he was never the same again. Not many are like him. He is an empty husk blowing upon a dying wind.
Other: n/a
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