Breezeblade--Air

[™SMOULDR.!]

Name: My name is Breezeblade.
Moons: I have been alive for 27 moons.
Gender: She-Cat
Clan: AirClan
Rank: Warrior [Troops]
Short-Description:

I am a short-hair tan bengal she-cat with moss-green eyes.

Picture:

sobi.org/photos/Cat/Amsterdam/ConstructionCatA_023.jpg

Description:

They save my pelt was meant to be colored golden like a jaguars. It's sandier than that, lighter in color, with a darker golden stripe going down my back and waving up and down; up as back as my spine and down to my middleside. Along me are tiger stripes of a nearly chocolate brown, only angled and sharper; daggerlike. All of this is short hair'd, save about my head, where it comes down to form somewhat of a poser lion mane. Only it isn't fluffy, it's just access fur that hangs.

For where I got my name, my teeth and claws are sharp as daggers, brilliantly kept a gleaming ivory. To accent these features, I was born with a dysfuntction of not being able to hide my claws, and and two rearmost teeth are longer than usual, and stick out slightly, though not much. My tail is decent, colored like the rest of my body. On my legs I have to stockings going all the way up to my shoulderblade on my two front legs, which are totally cocolate, with white stripes. and a golden sock on the right one.

My eyes take a lovely narrow almound shape, the colour of them comparable to moss in the shadows. My ears are rectangular, hollow and foxish from base to tip. My muzzle is shaped excellently, not too wide, and yet not slim either. My nose rests perfectly here, this too coloured darkbrown, accented by ivory whiskers.

Personality:

Okay. Let's clear something right now. I am so not normal. My claws won't sheath, and I look like a walking death machine. Yay..? Whatever. I dislike first-impressionists. Okay, not my fault I'm dysfunctional, but try not to judge me. It hurts. Moving on, I'm really a nice cat regardless my appearance.

I try not to, but you'll find I contradict myself sometimes. I can be mean, if I have to, too. I enjoy it when I do though, so please do try not to get on my bad side. I love my friends dearly, and I don't attempt to make it a minute detail. However, this is only if you know me.

Don't know me? I dislike you. No questions, don't ask. This is the point where I tend to contradict. I make first-impressions. If I don't think I'll like you, oh well. You can try and get to know me, I'll at least give you a chance but try not to get your hopes up. I was born into a knowledge that orbited around fighting and war, and so that is how I think. Just a small bit of the time, at least. Around camp or on patrols I'm relaxed and calm, humorous and insanely loveable. I even like newcomers to the camp, and kits are my favorite. I just... seem to have a bi-polar attitude, I guess.

History:

Well, I'd suppose you'd all like to know why I'm dysfunctional. I don't know, but I'll tell you all about the expiriences and lessons learned from it. A good one is that, kits don't like anything different. Yeah, I was shunned. But I always had another kit around named Sunkit. She was pretty cool; white, ginger speckles. I liked her. She had a sister, Kitsuneclaw, that cat in ColdClan. Kitsuneclaw's a real thorn. Even I can't compare.

Oh well. Sunraid eventually went. She had Warheart as a mentor. Boy, did I feel sorry for her. My mentor is long gone by now too; he was wiped ot by green cough. Tough luck. My apprenticeship was pretty okay though, despite minor things like kits running up to you all the time asking why your claws were out. I got used to it.

Role Playing Example:

See Kitsuneclaw. =P

Other:

Donelol

[Sunrise.]

Accepted!