Shrewstorm !

[Slug !]

Name: Mad Max (formerly); Shrewstorm (currently) Gender: Tom Age: 27 moons Rank: Warrior Clan: Meadow Beliefs: Shrewstorm doesn’t care about religion or the like. He’d rather just stick to the sidelines and laugh at anyone who has an argument about it, because really, how do you know? Some cats say there’s a Starclan, or some kind of afterlife. Other cats say there isn’t an afterlife and when you die, you cease to exist. Interesting stuff, he’ll admit that much. Y’know, the whole beliefs defining the cat and their clan, that’s real lovely. You keep up the good work, buds. But Shrewstorm doesn’t have any belief beyond “I’ll find out when I get there”. There couldn’t be anything more disappointing than finding out that everything you believed in was wrong. There’s always THAT possibility and Shrewstorm wants no part of those shenanigans, nooo sir. Nu-uh, not him. Throw in the fact that when he does find out what’s right (Afterlife or not), he’ll be laughing (if he can) at anyone who’s wrong. In Shrewstorm’s mind, that will his biggest joke yet and they won’t even know it. Not until they die, anyway Parents: too many to say Siblings: Batpelt (formerly Radar) [brother x DC] played by Pyro Greyfur (formerly Jaws) [ brother x NC] Other Kin: too many to say Mate: not yet Crush: not yet Kits: not yet Apprentice/Mentor: not yet Appearance: For a tom, Shrewstorm seriously lacks in the muscle and the fat department. He's just too skinny, but the kicker is that he eats a lot. If anything, he should be the fattest sack of fur in all of MeadowClan. Shrewstorm on a binge would put even the hungriest of queen's to shame. The only explanation is a tapeworm and God knows Shrewstorm would probably eat that, too. With that zero-size build he's got legs up ta' here, but he's too knobby at the joints to look remotely graceful with that loomin' height of his. Really, awkward teenager would describe him pretty well. His face is too gaunt, his shoulders and hips noticeably bony; he's all wrong with nothing to really support him, save for those dainty, pansy-paws of his. Some might think that's the reason why he's got that unsteady sway in his walk, but majority says that Shrewstorm's been eating something behind the Medicine Den that he really, really shouldn't. And I wholeheartedly agree with them. Now, don't get me wrong; Shrewstorm's skinny, but he ain't a walking skeleton. You just wouldn't want to cuddle with him, because bony shoulders, pillows do not make, hmm. His fur isn't any better, believe me. It's coarse, thin, and short; it won't keep him warm in Leaf-Bare and he gets chilly in Green-Leaf. I guess he got the bad genes of the family, but oh look, brown! He's got a nice, mellow shade; not quite tan and not too dark, like the underbark of a tree. "Light brown", sure, but where's the fun in that? Personally, I like his eyes the most. They're a deep, intense gold, and wherever he goes, a little gleam goes with 'em. Mischievous? Always. His eyes are practically the poster child for windows to the soul. In those, you can see more than a soon-to-be trick or amusement; Shrewstorm has always been an expressive tom and as such, so are his eyes. Of course, for an unsavory cat like himself, he's gotten into some... unsavory shenanigans. Case in point: the tippy-top of his ear that's missing? Snapping turtle. Those thin scars on the back of his head? Being brained by a hawk is so not cool. Personality: Shrewstorm’s biggest trait is being a joker. Lord knows he loves to mess around, play pranks on his clan mates, and fire off anything remotely amusing that comes to mind. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to know when to stop, has no brain-to-mouth filter and has a hard time being serious in any situation. “Oh, so you’re bleeding out from some nasty wounds? Well, you needed to lose a few pounds anyway.” ... It’s things like that that can make it difficult for some cats to get along with Shrewstorm. Not everyone enjoys a clown, especially one cracking jokes at a clan mate’s pain. We’re not saying Shrewstorm doesn’t have any friends—on the contrary, he’s an easy enough tom to get along with, if you can move past the fact that he’s not the most mature cat out there. Some cats just can’t appreciate a comedian, is all. He also has the nasty habit of antagonizing others. Shrewstorm takes a strange delight in “poking dragons”, more so when the cat is easily angered or upset. At least most of the time, it’s in good nature, but in others... well. It would probably be better not to antagonize anyone at all. I think everyone will be okay as long as Shrewstorm never becomes a diplomat. Speaking of everyone, despite all of his jokes and silliness, Shrewstorm is a terrifying when someone hurts or messes with his clanmates. To him, Meadowclan is family, blood related or not, and he’ll kill anyone to protect his family. Yes, Shrewstorm isn’t clan born, but he’s fiercely loyal to his clan—his family—and he’ll be there to help with absolutely anything when his clan mates need the support. In the past, Shrewstorm was separated from his family, save two of his brothers. It was a large family and to him, they were his absolute WORLD. But then the fire happened and... and Jaws got burned. Jaws got hurt and the thought of losing his brother terrified him more than anything. So he told jokes, more for the benefit of himself than his brother. And when they found Meadowclan, who were practically a family all on their own... well, they needed that. When Shrewstorm jokes and crosses the line, don't think he doesn't care or take anything seriously. Because that’s not true. Joking is really just how Shrewstorm copes with every little thing that life throws at him, whether it be as simple as waking up in the morning or just breathing, to the difficulties and harshness of battle and loss of family. It’s his default setting, really. He talks because he worries, he talks because he doesn’t really know what else he can do, he talks to fill the silence. It’s just that he doesn’t know when too much is really too much. He also doesn't seem to know what personal space is, and might come off as clingy and needy to those who don't know him well. It's not that he doesn't care about social mannerisms. He just never grew up where a cat said "leave me alone" or "get out of personal space". To his family, physical closeness was a sign of trust, love, and respect. He finds it somewhat offending when a cat doesn't want to share their freshkill or cuddle with him. He has a hard time remembering that no, that's now how Meadowclan works. You have to ask permission before chowing down on some cat's rabbit, or tagging along on a patrol, or falling asleep on your clan mate. To Meadowclan, you may be clan mates, but that doesn't automatically grant you Big Family Forever status. It just means you live together, which Shrewstorm forgets from time to time. Shrewstorm also might come off as pestering and nosy, considering that if there ever was a problem, his family wouldn't hesitate to get to the bottom of it. Problems lead to bad grudges and animosity among the family, and nobody wanted that. Being hard-headed about his clan mates problems and trying to lend a paw is just Shrewstorm caring about their well-being, though sometimes they might not realize it. Skills: Shrewstorm makes an excellent hunter. He's long-limbed, thin and fast, so chasing down and catching prey is easy peasy for him. He's exceptionally good at hunting rabbits and birds, though mice are a bit tricky for him. They're small and with a cat like Shrewstorm's attention span... well, it's hard to concentrate on something that's barely any bigger than your paw. As a fighter, he doesn't fair too well. He doesn't have the build for heavy-hitting and simply winning a battle with brute strength. Shrewstorm's more of a hit-and-run-and-maybe-come-back sort of fighter. Or just not a fighter at all. Unless one of his clanmates are being ganged up on, he's not going to bother with a fight. You can handle yourself? Well, fine by him! Exit stage left, Shrewstorm. History: Before Meadowclan, Shrewstorm lived on a farm with many other cats. At this time, he was known as “Mad Max”. And let me tell you, society at the farm was a whole lot different than the clans. There, everyone’s parents were everyone’s parents and everyone’s kits were everyone kits. You didn’t grow up with just “two” parents and when a couple had kits, everyone took care of them and everyone was their parents. Everyone. There was no leader, no structure, and no guidelines on how to do this or that. It was a giant, chaotic family that loved and took care of each other. It wasn’t like the clans where if a couple had kits, it was mostly the mother nursing them, or the father being, well, their father. Other mothers would take the kit on as theirs and all the toms would play “father”. There was no jealousy among a family, after all. The more the merrier, the larger the family the better, and surprisingly enough, no one argued or bicker. They were completely comfortable with their way of life and being. Yes, it was confusing sometimes, but the amount of trust, understanding, and closeness among everyone was... well, can be overwhelming for outsiders who never grew up like Shrewstorm did. Say, for instance, one of the queens in Meadowclan has kits. Shrewstorm can’t say they’re his because that’s not how it works in Meadowclan, or anywhere else. He can’t say he’s their dad and give them that much more attention because no one would approve of it, because they don’t understand. What’s wrong with having two or more dads? Or three moms? What’s wrong with having a bigger family? What’s wrong with being closer to everyone? It’s times like that when Shrewstorm misses the farm, his family, and “having kits”. Technically speaking, he has no biologically related kits of his own. But he’s taken care of many and loved them like they were his own, just like many others have done with those same kits. So that brings up the question: how did Mad Max become Shrewstorm? How did he join Meadowclan? Why did he join Meadowclan? The answer, my friend, is simple, and also a very sad one. During a bad storm, lightning struck the farm and set it ablaze. Cats—his family—fled and scattered in different directions, while the fire ate up their home and burned a great majority of the land around it. Mad Max, separated from so many of his family, had no idea what to do. All who was with him was only two of his brothers, Jaws and Radar, but Jaws was suffering from burns. He didn’t know how to heal burns, or make his brother better. He didn’t know where to go or what to do, besides hunting and waiting and hoping someone would find them, someone would show them where everyone else was, and they could fix Jaws. No one ever came. Mad Max was terrified. No family but Radar and Jaws... he feared the worst for Jaws. There was an infection in his leg that was beginning to worsen and they had no clue how to stop it. They had to do something to help him. Too much of their family had already been lost. They couldn't afford to lose another one. It was Radar who went off to search for help, telling Mad Max to stay put and take care of their younger sibling. In two days time, Radar returned with escorts and another, more kinder cat. They came from a "clan", saying that their friend was a healer, that they could help. Mad Max didn't care where they came from, as long as Jaws would be okay. And as such, this was how he was introduced to the clan life. The healer, a medicine cat, and it's escorts, two warriors. Strange terms that had never been spoken on Mad Max's tongue, and yet... they were a large group of cats. A family, even? Not quite, but the similarities were enough. They would be safer there, surrounded by others who could protect them--a place where Mad Max and his brothers could live and survive. It wasn't their old family, not by a long shot. But Meadowclan was the closest thing they could get to that, and they needed the closeness and structure. It would be good for them--all of them. Mad Max was renamed as Shrewstorm, his brothers, Jaws as Greyfur and Radar as Batpelt. They had the skill set of warriors already from their long moons of taking care of the young and old of their... other family. The adjustment wasn't quite that simple, however. Meadowclan didn't have the same society as they were use to. Apprentices? Warriors? A deputy and a leader? Patrols? What on earth? It was a hard change for Shrewstorm. How was he to know the social mannerisms and etiquette of the clans? What was okay and not okay? Some things were easier to catch on to, like queens and fathers not approving of Shrewstorm calling himself their kits "father". Other things... well. He's still getting use to. Critique level: make my cat FoF suitable [bg=c5a172][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

Shrewstorm's Table


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[color=beige][b] SPEAKING [/b][/color]

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[Glowy]

[1/1] :3
Pffft, and you worried.