Post by vines on Jun 26, 2012 23:11:03 GMT -5
Name: Camelai
Gender: Female
Clan: N/A
Rank: Stray, Wanderer, Loner.
Basic Appearance: Camelai is of average build--well, as average as one can be with their ribs clearly visible beneath their pelt. Her legs are strong, however, and harbor nothing but sinewey muscle. One can see by looking that she's had it rough. Nicked ears, scrapes here and there, but the only one visible is the long mark that trails along her right flank. Her eyes are a warm yellow that dance, and contrast nicely to her trademark smirk. Camelai's pelt is a light ginger color, accented with darker shades around her face, shoulders, and tail, which is remarkably long, by the way.
Personality.: The streets are a difficult lifestyle: it's a dog eat cat world, as well a cat eat cat world; no one's going to sugarcoat anything. If nothing else, Camelai has street smarts--and lots of them. She's learned that life's going to kick your scrawny tail no matter who you are, and feeling sorry for yourself won't get you anywhere. Most of her lessons were learned the hard way: struggling for every scrap of food in her belly; being chased out of Italian restaurants by fat twolegs with handlebar mustaches, all the while wielding rolling pins meant for bludgeoning cats to death; and getting in close scrapes with other starving cats, whose desire for her blood spilt on pavement was all too exploited. And she has paid for her share of oxygen well-over in battle scars and missed meals.
Surprisingly, though she has little too no sympathy for anyone save the old and young, and gets way too sarcastic at times, she isn't that much of a pessimist. In fact, Camelai's pretty optimistic. When someone puts her down, she always gets back up with nothing but a fiery will to survive. It's very seldom she makes close bonds, and can be openly skeptically about the comrades motives. An opinionated cat if there ever was one, this cat is hardly afraid to speak her mind; though, she isn't arrogant, and knows when to keep her mouth shut. Any cat that knew her well enough would know that, despite her ramblings, sarcasm, and tough-nuts outlook on life, her heart is in the right place. Camelai's just trying to make her place in this world.
History: For as long as she can remember, Camelai has been a street cat--a roamer, so to speak. Wherever her paws carried her was where she went, but she never lingered long. As for her kithood, it is a blank that she has yet to fill, and may be the reason behind her aimless wanderings. How could a cat not know her mother, nor her father, nor anything about her past life? Well, one damp morning, she found herself lying in a filthy puddle in an alley; alone in every since of the word. The only thing related to her past-life was a word: Camelai. It was her only handle on the life before what was forgotten. So, she took it as her name.
Ever since then, she has been searching in vain for some essence of her former self. A name, a face, a memory. But so far, nothing has come. She currently resides in an old warehouse in the Big City, giving life all she's got, and making the best out of what she has.
Gender: Female
Clan: N/A
Rank: Stray, Wanderer, Loner.
Basic Appearance: Camelai is of average build--well, as average as one can be with their ribs clearly visible beneath their pelt. Her legs are strong, however, and harbor nothing but sinewey muscle. One can see by looking that she's had it rough. Nicked ears, scrapes here and there, but the only one visible is the long mark that trails along her right flank. Her eyes are a warm yellow that dance, and contrast nicely to her trademark smirk. Camelai's pelt is a light ginger color, accented with darker shades around her face, shoulders, and tail, which is remarkably long, by the way.
Personality.: The streets are a difficult lifestyle: it's a dog eat cat world, as well a cat eat cat world; no one's going to sugarcoat anything. If nothing else, Camelai has street smarts--and lots of them. She's learned that life's going to kick your scrawny tail no matter who you are, and feeling sorry for yourself won't get you anywhere. Most of her lessons were learned the hard way: struggling for every scrap of food in her belly; being chased out of Italian restaurants by fat twolegs with handlebar mustaches, all the while wielding rolling pins meant for bludgeoning cats to death; and getting in close scrapes with other starving cats, whose desire for her blood spilt on pavement was all too exploited. And she has paid for her share of oxygen well-over in battle scars and missed meals.
Surprisingly, though she has little too no sympathy for anyone save the old and young, and gets way too sarcastic at times, she isn't that much of a pessimist. In fact, Camelai's pretty optimistic. When someone puts her down, she always gets back up with nothing but a fiery will to survive. It's very seldom she makes close bonds, and can be openly skeptically about the comrades motives. An opinionated cat if there ever was one, this cat is hardly afraid to speak her mind; though, she isn't arrogant, and knows when to keep her mouth shut. Any cat that knew her well enough would know that, despite her ramblings, sarcasm, and tough-nuts outlook on life, her heart is in the right place. Camelai's just trying to make her place in this world.
History: For as long as she can remember, Camelai has been a street cat--a roamer, so to speak. Wherever her paws carried her was where she went, but she never lingered long. As for her kithood, it is a blank that she has yet to fill, and may be the reason behind her aimless wanderings. How could a cat not know her mother, nor her father, nor anything about her past life? Well, one damp morning, she found herself lying in a filthy puddle in an alley; alone in every since of the word. The only thing related to her past-life was a word: Camelai. It was her only handle on the life before what was forgotten. So, she took it as her name.
Ever since then, she has been searching in vain for some essence of her former self. A name, a face, a memory. But so far, nothing has come. She currently resides in an old warehouse in the Big City, giving life all she's got, and making the best out of what she has.
