[saberpelt*]

[[saberpelt]]

OTHERS CALL ME: saberpelt

I HAVE SERVED STARCLAN FOR: Twenty-two moons

I BELIEVE I AM: a tom

CLAN BY WHICH I PLEDGE LOYALTY: windclan

I PROUDLY CALL MYSELF: a warrior

MY MASK: saberpelt is from a family that is powerful and full of speed. His form is graceful, beautiful and noble, and well-balanced. He is from a large sized tom, and he is usually shoulder to shoulder with most other cats considered large. His body is lithe, strong and graceful. His skull is long and chiseled and his fore face is slight longer than his skull. The skull and fore face are parallel, making his head a blunt wedge shape. His ears are large, like a bats. His nose is the colour of a black fox at midnight and blends in well with his fur. His jaws are powerful and filled with sharp, knife-like teeth. His neck is long, lean and muscular and has a slight arch.
His shoulders are long and sloping, as well as laid back. His chest is large so that there is room for his large lungs, which see a lot of work. He is a working tom who loves to hunt and run. His forelegs are almost perfectly parallel. His paws are well padded, muscular, strong and firm. His tail is something that he takes great pride in. It is thick at the base, where it connects with his body, and then tapers to become thin and whip-like. His fur is a black as coal and there is a very small white dot on his chest. One of his eyes is a light blue sapphire and the other is a clear white, rather than the normal amber coloured eyes or yellow like most cats. His mother told him that their family was raised to only breed with others with the same eye colour, specifically so their unique eye colours would be passed on.
Saberpelt has a long white scar running down his left shoulder blade. When he is running it looks like a flash of lightning before your eyes. He does not try to hide it, nor does he want to, for it shows of his past. He got it from a fight with a badger one day while he was hunting near a small pond. Saberpelt killed a young and weak rabbit for his own consumption but the badger decided it was his... However, the badger lost. The poor young tom was nearly killed over the small rabbit, but he survived and so he shows the scar with honor.
He is the perfect picture of your average killing machine, but is his personality going with the same flow? Does the face match the mask? Could this evil mask fit the face of a tom in such high regards among his clan?

THE CAT BEHIND THE MASk: He is a calm, collected tom who is good at keeping his head even during the most hectic of times. It seems like he doesn’t care about what is going on around him, for he asks very few questions, but he pays close attention to anything done or said near him. He is not cold by any means, like some believe him to be when they first meet him, but he sometimes acts as though he is better than everyone else. He is not quick to anger, but quick to defend whatever he thinks is right. He will jump into an argument either to defend the winning side, defend the side he believes is right, or to make his own opinions and ideas to be argued about. His intentions in any situation is not to make others happy, but instead to bring peace between the members of his clan, or two clans.
Despite his laid-back, somewhat arrogant personality, he had many different aspects to what he like, dislikes, how he acts and so on. He loves to run, and he loves the hunt. He isn’t one to do something without thinking, even if he seems to be full of himself. He does not like to associate with fools and will sometimes refuse to talk to them or give them a straight answer to a question. There have been times when he has walked out of a conversation when he has believed one of the speakers to be stupid and foolish. He seems to fall in love with every pretty female that he meets, but his affections can change within moments.
He seems to be a decent fellow, with good intentions, but he sometimes does not seem to be serious. He is a trickster at times, but not very often. He will use cunning to get his way if he must. He has not had a great life and that had affected his personality in many ways. He does long for the companionship of others, but often finds himself alone because he does something stupid or drives others away from him with his arrogance.
Saberpelt is good at hiding his feelings and masking them with what he wants others to see, instead of what is really felt. Perhaps, every word here is a lie. What if Saberpelt is not what everyone believes him to be?

EXAMPLE: Eyes of the beast, so cold and lonely. Some would say it was befitting of his soul, so dark and lonely. The very colour of isolation, sorrow, and even death. All the tom wanted was to be left alone. So cold and sad, not only had those he cared about distanced themselves from him but now he had done something unforgivable. The blood that stained his paws stung his nose with a stingy smell that was all to familiar. Behind him a thin trail of crimson, a river of blood. It wasn't even his own. The wounds that dotted his once onyx black pelt were many, but he didn't feel one. What covered his own wounds was Their blood. The blood of his clan members. To join Her, he had to kill them. The eyes of his father upon him as he dashed for his mother's throat, it was too much. The cat let out a gurgled cry. Blood fell from his mouth. He was only relieved that he knew it was his own and not the blood of his family. They could have taken him down if they had wanted to. If all of them joined together, they could easily have knocked him off of his feet and feasted on his flesh. But they didn't. They wouldn't. He was their family. Unlike him, they couldn't betray him in such a way. But he had. He had done the unthinkable, all for Her.
The gathering clouds above rumbled threateningly. A silent bead of water hit the ground. Then another, and another, and then it seemed the sky cried out in horror and pain. He clenched his eyes shut. The heavens cried, not for him but for his sins. His mother had carried a litter. He had killed not only her, but innocent life. Why, why did he do this? Slowly, slowly those sorrowful eyes opened once more. It was for love. Her love. A dark and evil love, he could for see. But it was love all the same. He could not help for whom his heart ached for. All he could do was listen, and comply. He was slave to his own feelings, but most of all, he was slave to her. Underneath her paw he was captured. Did she even return his feelings? He killed for her, lied for her, she was all wrong, but yet so right. Without her he could not bare to live. But without his family he was nothing. It was what she had wanted. She wanted to kill off his family, so he could only rely on her. A muffled sob came from within him. The young tom cat could hold on no longer. His paws slipped from underneath him on the wet ground. Blood mixed with mud to create a sickening scent. The mixture trickled away, down the hill. As his eyes began to steadily close one more he watched the stream, his stomach tightening. How could he have done such a horrible thing? They had fought back, but it was so sad to see them do so. Their were futile and the only emotion they held was sorrow. He had the true lust to kill. They had no chance, no warning. Now all that was left was Her. He shook his head as he lay on the cold wet ground, thinking of how pathetic he was. He pushed himself up and yowled to Starclan that he would no longer be a slave. A slave to her, a slave to love.

[|S|pot]

Accepted!