This was originally an image of my fursona, Fletcher, and my best friend's fursona, Brueghel, hugging. Now it's mostly just me. The story behind this is a long one, spanning the course of several years. To put it as briefly as possible while still sort of doing it justice, the closest and best friend I've ever had in my entire life suddenly abandoned me with very little explanation, and refuses to speak to me beyond the very occasional "hello". It may seem stupid that I'm getting this upset about it, but we were always EXTREMELY close, and now it would be more than a bit of a stretch to call us friends... So, it's a bit hard to adjust to, to say the least... I'm sure I'll eventually get over this one way or another, but at the moment, I'm in a lot of pain.
Just a heads up, the LAST thing I need right now is people telling me that I'm somehow pathetic or worthless because other people have it worse. Just because others are hurting more, it doesn't mean I'm not in pain.
Prefix: Razor - Her mother had given her this name because of the scar she had gotten on her left back leg when she was just a tiny kitten. She was later called this because of her razor sharp eyes, which could spot a mouse hidden under a bush or a bird flying higher then most cats could see.
Suffix future: N/A
Age - Six moons Gender - Female Breed - 15% tortie, 70% American short hair, 15% maincoon. Clan - N/A Rank - Rouge Scent - Moss, willow blossoms, squirrels. Mentor - N/A
Pelt - Her pelt is a dark gray color with patches of black and silver on her back. The end of her tail is silver, with a ring of black around it, along with her ear tips being silver and her right front paw being all black. Eyes - Bright new leaf green, really shinny. Other Noticeable Scars/Traits - She has a claw mark on her left hind leg, and claw marks on her eyes given to her by herself.
Orientation - Straight Activity - None Mate - open
8/10 She likes to run, her legs are a bit short, but she has always loved running around and has a wild spirit, making her faster.
3/10 Razor isn't the strongest queen, being she has never really gotten into a fight before, and has never really tried fighting.
4/10 Being a rouge most of her life has not really helped her with her hunting more then any other cat, but she knows the basics of hunting a mouse, squirrel, and bird. Her natural ability to tune into her instincts astounds even her mother when it comes to learning how to hunt. Though she is still young and has not learned all she can.
0/10 She can not.
2/10 Being a rouge, she has little experience with herbs and healing methods.
Faith In StarClan
6/10 Razor has never heard of StarClan, but the stories told to her about the wild cats, and how they worship the dead, have made her believe in something she knows little, no nothing of.
Kithood to young rouge -0 to 6 moons-
Razor was born a rouge, by an average rouge molly. She was raised well with her mother and had loved the stories her mother had told her about the cats who lived in the forest, the cats who lived in large groups and hunted rats and rabbits bigger then they where. Razor had always wanted to be part of these cats, to be a viscous fighter like them.
So, when she was just two moons old, the little kitten had made her way out of her den and into the alley, wanting to try her paws at hunting. The little she cat had stumbled upon a rats nest and tried to hunt them, but failed. A passing tom cat had found her and gotten her out of there before the rats killed her. The tom had told her his name was Goldenheart. Ever since then, Razor has had a fear for rats, and the scar on her hind shows exactly why.
For the past moon, she had night mares of rats, the little cat having clawed at her face in her sleep and caused deep scars in her eyes. Thankfully, this did not harm her wonderful vision, her mother thinking it had only made her eye sight that much better.
During her third and forth moon, she went through a very protective faze in her life. She had told off a tom that was trying to get closer to her mother, saying that he had many she cats in twoleg place, and that she should not get close to him. Razor had heard much of this tom, a passing queen once saying that he had given her a litter of four and didn't even bother to hunt for her and her kittens.
Moon, her mother, was shocked at this and cast away the tom and had not spoken to him since. Razor also insisted that she hunt her mothers pray, knowing that twoleg food was not always good. She said it would help her hunting grow, and keep her mother from getting sick by nasty twoleg rot food. She didn't always catch enough pray, so her mother had to eat a rat or something she caught herself.
When her mother had found some food in twoleg place, Razor had sniffed it over and examined it as closely as her young muzzle would allow her. She had declared that it was bad because of a sour like scent on it, much like that of rat droppings after they die. She said it would get her mother sick. Her mother did not eat it, leaving abother rouge to eat said food. That rouge had gotten sick shortly after.
By Razor's sixth moon, she had explored the forest a few times, her curiosity having pulled her into the woods, the smell of the forest and the grass under her paws always feeling the best to her. The little molly had stolen pray a few times, wanting to learn to hunt like the wild cats and to one day ask them if she could join.
Positive - Neutral - Negative
Loyal: Razor was taught by her mother at a very young age that she should always be loyal to her friends and family. Her mother had disciplined her well on this, and Razor had always been a deathly loyal she cat to every cat she befriended.
Friendly: This she cat is one of the most friendliest cats in all twoleg place, saying that she wants to know everything about every cat. She has always wanted to know many cats, to have as many friends as she could have.
Intuitive: Ever since her mother told her stories of the clans, Razor has always had the biggest fascination with the clan cats, and their way of life. She watched them carefully and learned new hunting moves every day.
Active: Razor is a very active she cat, and can sometimes use her excessive energy to... over hunt. She usually sleeps a short time, going to sleep sometimes before moon high, and has been known to wake before dawn, saying she was to restless to lay about when she could be hunting and training herself to join the wild cats.
Drive to please: She has been known to hunt for older rouges or sick rouges who can't for them selves. Razor likes to help anyone she can that can not help themselves, or has problems helping themselves.
Stubborn: Sometimes she can be a bit stubborn about pray, being one of the picky eaters. She really only likes a few things, squirrels, mice, robins, doves, and hedge hog, but we know how that turns out.
Over baring: At times, she can be a bit over protective and over baring towards those she feels needs it. With her mother, she had spent between her third and fourth moon, she had been very over protective of her mother. This had saved her from a bad mate, and kept her from getting sick from eating pray Razor felt was unsafe, another cat having gotten sick from it.
Fear: Razor has had the worst fear of rats ever since she was attacked by a nest of rats at two moons old. She had terrible night mares for a long time, and every now and then she has the same dream. Rats swarming over her, ripping at her fur, slashing her with claws, butting off her tail, paws, ears, even biting off her muzzle.
Dense: This molly doesn't seem to understand when some-cat is being sarcastic or even trying to trick her into doing something. She see's the world as only good, the only bad thing she has ever seen is rats, and the cruelty they can give. Because of this, if someone told her that it was ok to steal pray from another clan and that she should go to another clans camp because their leader wanted to talk to her, most likely she would, but only if they told it to her convincingly enough.
Anger: Razor tends to get angry sometimes, bot not very easily. The best way to get her angry, is to tell her that she couldn't hunt a mouse if it was dead in her face. Basically, she can't hunt well. This ticks her off, because she has almost entirely trained herself to hunt. She has spent a long time, honing her instincts and training herself to be as good as she can.
Jealousy: Being a friendly cat, she is hardly ever jealous, but when she is, she is overly so. Once, when a stray tom cat wanted to be sweet on her mother, Razor, at the time being little over three moons old, had exploded in the toms face. She had said in front of him and her mother that he flirted with many rouge molly's and that he was onto into her so she could have his kitten.
Anxiety: Her fear of rats had driven Razor to cut at her face in her sleep. Though this has long since past with her self inflicting wounds, she still has a bit of anxiety towards rats, or anything that looks or smells of rats. It makes her fur spike, and gets her quite skittish and distrusting.
Hate / Untrustworthy Dislike Unsure / Still developing thoughts Neutral / Acquaintances Friend Best / Close Friend Interested Takes a Liking to / Crush Attachment Missing / On the Mind Love Family Mate Respect strike Deceased
Moon: Moon is a pure black she cat with a white patch on her chest and bright golden moon like eyes. Moon is Razorpaws mother, and has been the most important cat in Razorpaw's life.
Loners\ kitty pets---
---Likes--- Squirrels Mice Robins Hedge Hogs Doves Feathers Running Climbing Jumping Learning Making new friends
Rats Water The smell of twoleg place Lier's Fish Voles Pigeons Thrush
The day was brighter then most, the sun beat down, making the forest hotter then normal. On this day, a black and silver she cat was making her way through the under growth, her thick and plush tail waving slightly behind her. Her large green eyes glistened as she spotted a robin pecking at a log, having ripped away a chunk of the bark an was eating away at termite's. With a grin, the she cat crouched down low and creeped towards the bird, her eyes wide and locked on the pray.
With a smile, she jumped with silent speed and grabbed it by it's neck, but having killed it from the impact of her paws slamming into the bird whose talons where locked on the bark. The young she cat pulled the bird off the tree bark and smiled, holding it up by a wing. She then laid herself down, and started to eat, feeling the itch of hunger running through her like wild fire.
Once the molly had finished off her pray, she buried the bones and feathers, but grabbed one of the tail feathers and decided to place it in her tail fur, just because she thought it looked nice. Once that was done, she turned away and lifted her tail, walking off to hunt some more. Her nose twitched a bit though, the scent of cats rolling on her tongue. With an interested smile, the young she cat jumped into the tree she had caught the robin in, and crawled high, looking down as a small group of cats passing below, one of them was a creamy colored tom with dark stripes and a thick strong muzzle.
The queen, known as Razor almost dropped her own jaw, the sight of the cat putting her in a slight daze. She was instantly in love. With a deep purr, the queen followed them from the tree's, but finally jumped down to get a closer look, her paws silent on the forest floor as they grew closer and closer to what they where saying was their camp. When one of the cats spoke to the cream and black tom, Razor almost burst as she found our the toms name was Webstrike.
A few more days past by and Razor creeped into the forest once more, hopping to get a glimpse at the tom she had found out was named Webstrike. During this though, she had gotten hungry and decided to stop and catch herself something to eat, and maybe even something to give the handsome tom she had seen.
Razor lifted her muzzle into the air and took a deep breath, the scent of squirrel waving into her muzzle. She smiled and followed the scent, her eyes soon locking on a squirrel nibbling on an acorn just a few tails away. The young she cat purred lightly, but stopped herself, creeping slowly towards it, and with a final jump, landed on the pray and bit it's neck, snapping it. Once it fell limp, she laid down to start digging in, purring at the sweet smell, but then heard a snap of a twig. She looked up to see what had made the sound, and her eyes locked on those of Webstrike. The tom she had gotten a kitten crush on.
( Side note: All Blue Tides character names in this application, have given me permission to use them by owners. )
Halloween picture time? I suppose it is xD. Anyhoo, about 2 years ago I posted this abomination of an image, with Sy as ... well... Sly xD. OH GAWD ITS HIDEOUS!.
So I suppose i needed to redo it a bit, and made this puppy. I also want to mention that the Eiffel tower is what i consider artist hell. BAD. Sy as Sly, Cassira as Carmelita, and Vince Voodoo (High Roller) as the big scary voodoo-obsessed super villain. I mean CMON THATS PRETTY SNAZ AIGHT?
This was also an experiment of me not being allowed to use the color black, at all in any form minus the logo, drawing a cityscape while keeping it loose and casual (aka stylize it a bit and stop being a stickler for perfected building geometry) and learning how to capture motion effects without blur motion (see rocket emphasis). All in all? Yep.
Didn't think i'd finish this on time, and I know its been a bit since I've posted anything. Just started getting back in the groove of things. Thanks for bearing with me.