Whiskerpaw -Marie- (To be finished)

Gender: F

Age: 7 Moons

Clan: WindClan

Rank: Apprentice

Personality: She can be quite
adventurous and hyper, sometimes very bouncy. She has a nervous side
when someone seems intimidating or sneaks up on her. She is on the
quiet side, despite liking to explore and being ever curious about
everything. When she's a asleep it's very hard to wake her up.

Appearance: Whiskerpaw has a white pelt
with tan-orange coloring mainly found on her face and back. Her eyes
are dark, occasionally appearing red when light hits them.

History:

“Mother, what's wrong with going
outside?” A tiny mew emitted from a tan and white ball of fur. This
ball of fur stretched and looked over at her mother questioningly.
This kit had been named Marie and was fondly looked at by her much
older mother. The young kit had been the sole survivor of a sickly
litter of four. She had her own health problems, but she managed to
stay alive.

The old cat purred and twitched her
whiskers at her kit. “Darling, nothing is wrong with the outside..
I'm very old and not able to defend myself if something were to
happen-- on the other hand you are very young, don't know how to
defend yourself, and you vision isn't the best dear.” She licked
her kit's puffed up pelt. “Besides, isn't this home big enough for
an adventurous kit like you?”

The small kit's eyes watched her mother
a moment then looked towards the messy room they were sitting in.
Indeed their home was large but their owners weren't exactly the
cleanest people around. There were plenty of bugs and nasty creatures
around. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Stuffy.
Teach me to defend myself.”

Her mother narrowed her eyes at her
daughter. Lightning fast she swatted the kit lightly, only enough to
catch her of guard and knock her over. Marie bounced back to her
feet, looking rather dazed. She hardly had a clue what happened until she saw and amused expression on her mother's face.

-----


Marie's pelt brushed against the bushes outside of her home. The tiny kit didn't bother looking back, nothing remained for her. At three moons old, she would try to survive by herself. No mother, she was positive the worst had happened to the elderly queen. Her mother had been sick herself for a while. It finally hit, leaving her only surviving kit without a family.

She tilted her head, listening to the sounds of the forest. They weren't as intimidating as she thought they would be. Soft scrambling against the ground, wind making the leaves rustle, the chirping of the birds. They were new and fascinating.