- Whisperingwinds, Riverclan Warrior // * EDITED

[- Leafy ღ]

Name: Whisperingkit - Whisperingpaw - WHISPERINGWINDS

Gender: Female

Age: 16 Moons

Clan: Riverclan

Rank: Warrior

Appearance:

Whisperingwinds' body is slim and sleek, the obvious trademarks of a Riverclan cat. It's no doubt she's from the Riverclan breed as her pelt is always soaked in the water, if the weather happens to be right and it's warm out. She loved soaking in the river, as it's something she's always been keen of. Her fur is a light tan, more of a cream, color with a few dark brown and black Bengal markings spiraling down her legs, sides, and making a few coon rings around her tail. Despite all of the natural markings and colors she has a splash of white coating her muzzle and throat while her nose is small and pink. Her eyes are her trade mark feature that stand out more then any other feature throughout her body. They are a icy coloring of blue that seem almost mesmerizing. Her voice is fairly melodic and inviting, almost one you couldn't get tired of hearing.



Personality:

Whisperingwinds is a sweet young she-cat with a good heart. She's always ready to lend a paw and help out a friend in the clan. She's as sweet as honey and can't get mad. She'll get upset instead since she had such fragile feelings. Instead of being harsh and rough on apprentices like other cats are she's always gentle and tries to turn boring activities into fun ones instead. Though it seems she's a flawless little creature she's not for there's a few things she is not good at handling. Rejection would be the most major of the number of flaws. The little she-cat can't stand being pushed away and rejected as it nearly breaks her heart, so therefore she's one to try and stay out of the way and keep her mouth shut unless called upon. She fairs no better during deaths. She sees them as ruthless and cold and can't believe it would happen. She doesn't really see the sense in fighting the other clans and has this little wonderland she dreams of of a perfect place where cats can live peacefully together.. Though she knows that's far from happening in reality.

History:

Whisperingwinds was born from two Riverclan cats known of Rainpool, her mother, and Braveheart, her father. The Bengal she-cat took her trademarked markings from her father's side of the gene pool so one would automatically think that she took more after her father then she did from her mother. If you thought such you would be incredibly wrong. Though she took her appearance from her father she acts just like her mother. Always doting on her cats in the clan and worrying her little head off if someone seems out of character. That would be the usual Whisperingwinds for you. One of the things she worried most over was her brother Soaringpaw, her only litter mate. She was quite close to the little tom and boasted pride for him whenever he seemed to succeed at something. One of the things she boasted most over was overcoming their milestone to leave the Nursery and become Apprentices.

As apprentices Whisperingwinds and Soaringpaw were nearly impossible to separate. They would always be mewing over what their mentors had taught them, what they would be doing the next day, and when they would have time to be with each other and enjoy themselves like siblings should. This went on for a few moons before in abruptly ended in a heart breaking sequence for Whisperingwinds. Her brother had developed green cough in the middle of Leaf Bare and he only got worse when they became low of herbs from treating the remainder of the clan. Needless to say Soaringpaw's life ended and Whisperingwinds became lonely and heart broken to have lost her best friend. In result she trudged on through her days as an apprentice, slacking during her training until she forced herself to put on a facade, perk up, and continue on with life until she got her Warrior name.

Long forgetting Soaringpaw and living the high life as a warrior Whisperingwinds seemed to think she had it made. She was incredibly wrong as she soon noticed her Rainpool showing signs of sickness. Her heart lurched at the thought of the dreaded sickness that Soaringpaw had caught and she immediately felt that her world was beginning to crumble again. There was nothing she could do to help but sit back and watch her the sickness claimed yet another one of her family members. Of course her grandparents had been gone long before her birth so it was only she and Braveheart to put up with the world now and she vowed to make sure nothing happened to the tom as she couldn't endure another heart break

Role Play Sample:

Past:
Whisperingpaw looked at the ground before her, a mix of fury and absolute hopelessness taking over her features as she attempted to wrap her brain around this situation. She tried to hold in her tears of despair as her tail tip flickering too-and-fro, nervous to hear what would become of her fearless brother. She looked up as Mudpaw, the current medicine cat apprentice, sauntered out, his ears flicking back and eyes staring at the ground. "Sorry." He whispered inaudibly, his usual bubbly and hyper personality gone for the moment. The two didn't talk much but Mudpaw was always loud enough to draw attention to himself, and she had been one to notice. "It's.. Just... The wounds were pretty bad.. There isn't much we can do anymore. It's in Starclan's paws, now. The best you can do is just.. Pray." He murmured, not looking up and he walked silently past her to help the remainder of the clan from the Shadowclan attack. Whisperingpaw drew in a sharp breath at hearing this from Mudpaw. "Of course, Mudpaw." She whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Thank you for informing me." She squeaked, the knot in her throat swelling as she didn't look up. She didn't even bother to look up when Braveheart slowly strolled up behind her, gently licking the top of her head. "It's for the best he goes.. It has to be, right Daddy?" She murmured quietly, briefly glancing up with a frown showing plainly on her features. "He won't be in pain anymore." She murmured sadly. It was obvious from the pained look in Braveheart's eyes that she was on the right track. "I don't know, sweetheart.. It they can help him then he'll be fine.. But... So far it isn't working out as well as we'd hoped." He breathed, frowning and looking down at her paws. Whisperingpaw sniffled slightly before nodded, bowing her head in pain. She'd followed Mudpaw's advice.. The best she could do was hope and pray.

Present:
Whisperingwinds sucked in a deep breath to calm herself, her body trembling ever so slightly as she tried to put her brave face on. No matter what Braveheart was still her father and she couldn't just leave him to rot alone in the Elder's Den. Seeing him normally brought an abrupt halt to any good mood she was normally in but she always tried to hide that and stay cheerful from the toms sake. "He'll be fine," She thought, creeping over to the Freshkill Pile and taking a freshly caught fish from the top. "He's strong.. He'll make it through this. Besides, he has Mudstep helping him." She tried to convince herself, though she knew every time she went for a visit he just ended up looking worse and worse. She frowned and paced the entrance of the Elder's Den for a few seconds to give herself a pep talk before creeping into the den and looking around, her ears twitching slightly.

Slowly she spotted the brown Bengal tom and tried not to cringe back before creeping over to him and laying the fish in front of them. "Hey," She murmured softly, sitting at his side and gently licking the tip of his ear. "How're you feeling?" She murmured, his voice soft and soothing as she looked Braveheart's body over, a flash of worry crossing over her face. He seemed thin and it killed her inside to see him like this. She looked back towards the fish beside them and gently nudged it over to him, her blue eyes suddenly pleading, "You have to eat." She murmured, trying to keep her voice soft so she could try to keep the concern and panic for her father in it down, the last thing she wanted him to here was the horror in her voice at the thought of losing him.

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