Login Name: Mistystar
Desired Clan: MoorClan
Desired Ranking: Leader
Desired Character Age: 30 Moons
Preferred Warrior Name: Mistyeye
Gender: Female
Reference Photo:
Physical Description: A dilute calico with a gray tabby base dominating her coat. A white locket brightens her chest, and a distinctive blaze marks her forehead. The eyes which inspired her warrior name are a misty green, shimmering like morning dew on the grasses of the moor she calls her home. Furcadia Description: The most striking feature of the lithe gray clan cat is a pair of misty green eyes, shimmering like morning dew on the grasses of the moor she calls her home. Her pelt is pale, dancing the line between gray and silver where tabby stripes crisscross her body. Bright creams break the monochrome like spots of sun, only outshone by the stark white of the locket marking on her chest. She moves with an easy grace, the air of someone in charge. [MoorClan Leader] Summarized Description: Dilute calico female with a white locket and green eyes. History: Born to two MoorClan cats. Shortly after her apprenticeship began, her father was involved in a scandal: the production of half-clan kits. Embittered towards him after the betrayal; spent a good portion of her early life counteracting the assumptions that apples don't fall far from their trees, and the teasing of her peers. Prefers to forget that her half-sister exists, but Swiftstar hasn't made it any easier by ascending to leadership.
Apprenticed under Heatherwhisker (F)
Preceded by/formerly deputy to Thistlestar (M)
Personality: Gentle but firm. Website (if applicable): https://toyhou.se/21210643.mistystar Sample Roleplay Post(s):
Mengsel slips into the den on hushed footpaws, amber eyes dimly lit with curiosity. His tails flicker to and fro behind him while his ears take similar motions, catching the soft sounds within the small area as they bounce around the chamber. His gaze falls upon Kiriel and Jamie, and the expression in his eyes brightens ever so slightly; he knew the woods well, and whose scent was likely to be found where, and the unfamiliar smell had attracted him. He settles upon his haunches with practiced grace, head held lofty and proud, as are his many-hued wings. "Good evening, little ones," he speaks softly, voice low and rumbling.
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She's fallen down those slopes more times than she can hope to count, and the will to claw out from the snowdrifts had died long ago. There's a long time spent simply tumbling, lost in the haze of collapsing tunnels, and a while more before she registers that she's being spoken to. It's nigh unfathomable, to her, that Moro continues to draw her close - physically, mentally. It seems wrong, and the irrationality within tells her to push him back, lest he drown with her... But something selfish begs her not to, begs to reach for the surface one more time. She grounds herself in the brush of his fur, the weight of his breath, the pinch of teeth and silent words, and levels the pitch and roll with some considerable effort. When she can make sense again of what's being said, she declines to answer; not because she lacks an argument, but because she's so tired of fighting, with herself or otherwise. Instead she summons a carefully guarded memory: warm grasses, trees, the smell of earth, Morioch's shoulder against her own, the bulky shadows of the Playground's stones in the distance. Most of the words are lost to time, but the love and connection she'd felt then and longs for now are the same; it's a request made without asking, to hear of the years she's lost, to know her son again. 'Please.'
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Blackness materializes from blackness, the dark jackal's figure melting from the shadows as he heeds the Mnemonist's summons. His eyes lock with the Vonry's, who stares back surprisingly steady; one foreleg heaves from beneath her to rest across Morioch's back, a challenge: Do not take him from me. He snuffs softly, an almost-smile playing at the corner of his lips before his gaze turns to Moro. "Five years I have sought to move this stubborn soul by her own will. I expected to drag her to Judgment." Anubis settles on the ground and lifts his paws - willed into hands - to catch a wink of light as it falls from nowhere. "My reach is limited within your Forest. Perhaps you are better suited to her care so long as she remains there. However..." He contemplates the silver ankh in his hands momentarily before releasing it and gesturing it across the short space to rest beside the pair, its power and purpose muted. "Do not be mistaken. One day this soul will return to me, and Endriaga's to her maker."
Do you have any other characters in the dream? If so, who? Not yet.