Crowclaw !

[Slug !]

"Hate is a strong word", a cat once said.

They've obviously never met me...

Name: Crowkit, Crowpaw, Crowclaw

Gender: tom

Age: twenty-four moons

Rank: warrior

Clan: meadow

Beliefs:
Crowclaw believes in Starclan like he believes in flying hedgehogs: not likely to happen. But this is a opinion kept to himself-- and to which a clanmate will talk about Starclan, Crowclaw will mearly nod and give a strained smile. Truthfully, the thought of cats that control his-- HIS?!-- future and fate startle the poor tom. That, and Crowclaw dislikes being controlled. He's a bit full of it, if I say so myself...

Parents:
Mother: Nightfang (Forestclan Warrior) [NP] x Father: Unknown

Siblings:
Older Brother: Sootclaw (Meadowclan Warrior, Deceased)

Other Kin: None.

Mate: shika none yet

Crush: none yet.

Kits: ravenkit none yet

Apprentice/Mentor: None yet.

Appearance:
With a rather simple look about him, Crowclaw is a sleek, lean, black tom with short hair, and startling faint green eyes with a tint of yellow in them-- the most distinctive and noticeable thing is the white dapple mark on his chest, however small it may be: clashes awkwardly against Crowclaw's jet-black fur. Along with his only marking, Crowclaw's bat-like ears stand out, if not more then his white strands of "macho-chest-fur".

With long limbs, nicely sized paws, and a thin, whip-like tail with a mind of it's own-- curling this way and that, but always held high (unless, of course, Crowclaw is sitting down); Crowclaw makes a flashy entrance with his nose pointed skyward, and makes sure you never forget him nor his "pretty-boy" self.

Personality:
If anything, Crowclaw has a the strong vibe of "I'm strong, smart, and handsome-- what are you going to do about it?" and flaunts it. Or even "I'm important. LOOK at me. PAY ME ATTENTION.". So, of course, with a atmosphere like that around you, everyone turns their head to see what the commotion is about-- and of course, it's just Prince Charming in action. Again. Ya-AWN!

Nothing new here-- moving on.

Other then the oh-so-obvious-facts-of-Mr.-Right, Crowclaw has a tongue that could give an owl whiplash, it's so pointed. Sarcasm is Crowclaw's common companion-- and he brings it along with his "bad boy" persona, knowing well that when he talks: cats listen.

...And talk smack right back.

Crowclaw takes smart-mouths as a challenge-- his jibes hitting home when they involve personal information; the tom takes pleasure in emotionally abusing others with verbal comments, if not mentally as well. He prefers it that way-- "Claws can scratch and fangs may bite-- but words will always hurt you." Crowclaw likes to amuse himself with others pain and inner turmoil-- he's all the more harsh when he knows he's winning a hissing-contest, and will promptly kick a cat while it's down.

Not the nicest tom, is he?

Oh. Did I mention he was a control-freak?
Well. Now you know.

Crowclaw practically has a fit when others tell him what to do-- absolutely snarling and ready to claw even his fellow clanmates ears off if they so much as give a suggestion or advice. "I know what I'm doing-- back off!!". If the discussion moves any farther then that: blood will be shed. "I don't need your help-- now get away from me! I have more important things to do then talk to the low-life, grimy, flea-infested likes of you."

But you can't really blame Crowclaw-- not that much, anyways. His brother, Sootclaw, was killed while engaging a fox he had found near bye Meadowclan borders when he was out hunting. Alone. Bravely, his brother fought: but it had soon become a lost battle when another fox appeared.

It ended quickly, but brutally.

Crowclaw wasn't always bad-- he was nice, if not a little criticizing-- but he was nice.

But this is another story to tell for another day, reader-- let us continue, yes?

Crowclaw, other then his "quirks", he's actually-- if you try, very, very, very, very hard enough-- you will find out he's a nervous wreck and a bundle of scatter brained emotions and thoughts, wrapped up in a tight little shivering ball of shot nerves. Honestly-- all he wants is Sootclaw, and he's willing to use anyone as a replacement for him-- even if it's not really Sootclaw. Crowclaw, sick with this knowledge about himself, tries his best to keep away from others-- jibes, jeers, insults; make them feel bad as himself just so he doesn't feel alone, and that no one-- and I mean no one-- will replace Sootclaw. Ever.

He's obsessed about remembering Sootclaw-- and afraid that he'll forget him. Paranoid, Crowclaw keeps everyone away-- everyone-- and trains day and night long, trying to be the best he can.

Like his brother.

Crowclaw figures if he becomes his brother, he will never forget him.

Never.

"One day, I shall be looked upon, and when you see me you will not see Crowclaw-- you will only see him...."

Skills:
Crowclaw's skills revolve around catching birds and rabbits-- for his ability he can jump great widths and heights. He's not super-cat, but he can hunt fairly-- if not more-- well then the average Meadowclan cat. Mice: not so well.

As a brawler, Crowclaw lacks size and skill in battling, and uses his speed to out-scratch and dodge his opponents attacks-- but there is a drawback. His speed takes most of his energy, and Crowclaw is soon after a few minutes of "ring-around-the-rosy" defenseless and he must make a decision: flight or fight?

Sadly, on Crowclaw's part, he picks the latter-- a bad choice-- and usually ends up in the med. cat's den for a day or two, much to the black tom's distaste.

History:
Born and raised as a Forestclan cat, Crowclaw-- known as Crowpaw back then- had caught wind of Ravenstar's idea of creating a new clan. Intrigued, Crowpaw had debated with his brother, Sootpaw, on this subject:

"Brother-- Sootpaw-- ....do you think life would be different-- easier-- if we went with him? Ravenstar?" Crowclaw whispered, glancing behind him to make sure his mother, Nightfang, was not listening in, for she did not like the thought of a "new clan".

"It matters what you think, Crowpaw-- it is your choice." Sootpaw murmured back.

"...Would you go with me if I did?" Crowpaw asked meekly back.

If cat's could smile, Sootpaw would have.

"Anywhere you go-- I follow. Besides, I'm suppose to protect you; you're my little brother-- you'd probably get eaten if I wasn't around!"

That promptly earned the Sootpaw a harsh, but playful swat from his brother.

Having decided, Crowclaw and Sootpaw tagged along the surprisingly many cats that chosen to follow Ravenstar, tracking through unfamiliar territory; even though they were disgruntled by the number of fellow felines were lost during the journey, they had kept going.

But all an all, they had made it. Finally, after so many moons: the duo-- both now fourteen moons old-- had survived.

The cats-- whatever was left of them-- parted into four groups: Crowclaw and Sootpaw had each chosen Meadowclan, refusing to be apart from one another.

Now at the right-- actually over-- age, Crowpaw and Sootpaw had received their warrior names, after making the grueling adventure they had; for long ago should have become warriors.

Names given, Crowpaw had become Crowclaw; his brother, Sootpaw, receiving the same suffix and was renamed as Sootclaw.

Three moons later in their new clan-- Meadowclan--... death had come for Sootclaw.

Rapidly, in a short and startling quick pace: Crowclaw changed. In two moons, Crowclaw had become violent-- untouchable; emotionally and mentally. Crowclaw no longer acted like...Crowclaw... He had become...

"One day, I shall be looked upon, and when you see me you will not see Crowclaw-- you will only see him..." Crowclaw hissed sharply; tone low as he spoke to the puddle of water-- his reflection.

"You will see Sootclaw!