Warrior Cats: A RPG

NEWS: March's Gathering has started!

Weather: Newleaf has officially arrived! The nights are still chilly and there is still occasional snowfall, especially at higher altitudes, but the days are getting a little warmer as time passes.

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Gender: ♂
Played By: Citali
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Joined: 2-January 18
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Last Seen: Mar 19 2018, 11:44 AM
Local Time: Mar 21 2018, 07:39 AM
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Mar 12 2018, 06:18 PM
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Sawbones was still getting used to the entire clan thing, ever since Dusty had convinced him to stay. He still wasn't sure if Silverstar totally welcome him here in her clan, her home, and her territory. Until she finally stated what he suspected, being that he wasn't welcome, he would try to fit in as best he could. First and foremost, his name had to go, since he had hated in the first place. The other animals he had travelled with had thought he was a hyena that ate bones, thus was born the name Sawbones. Before then, he had been nameless in a sense, as his pack had used a unique combination of noises to call each other. The combination of noises had been their names per say, though it obviously didn't translate to anything. It was a misrepresentation in his eyes, besides the fact he wanted to fit in with the other ThunderClanners.

From what he had observed, the clan cats had two parts to their names. The first part of their name was given as a child, normally pertaining to their appearance or behavior as a child. The second part they received when they became a "warrior", having something to do with their skills, or once again, their appearance. Sawbones was still uncertain if he could give himself a new name, pondering if the leader had to give it to him. Nonetheless, he wanted to get the past out of his mind, and as soon as possible. If he was called by Sawbones each and every day, he would only fall into a downward spiral. He could only hope that he was allowed to change his own name, and that he wouldn't be frowned upon for doing such. Hesitantly, the african wild dog padded out of the medicine cat's den, glancing around anxiously. "I guess.... um, whoever is listening, I suppose. I would like to be called, er, Smoke? Smokespots? Yeah. From now on. That would be nice," He announced, nodding firmly as if to reassure himself.
Mar 8 2018, 10:16 PM
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The African Wild Dog had been given plenty of time to heal, so he spent his restless nights pondering where he was going to go next. It would be nice to eventually have a permanent home, though he doubted ThunderClan would let him stay. All he had done was waste their herb supply and freshkill, without giving anything in return. They probably wanted him gone sooner than later, whether or not his wounds were fully healed.

As dawn rose, Sawbones rather noisily padded towards the entrance of camp, still slightly wincing with each step. It was mostly his left hind leg that still ached, for it had been broken, dislocated, and ripped open, making it the worst of his injuries. Everything was beginning to scar over, but that didn't set aside the fact that he was still in a decent amount of agony. The canine glanced back towards camp, his eyes almost holding a plead, despite his visage showing his thoughts of feeling unwanted.
Jan 2 2018, 01:51 PM
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Sawbones had been dumped on the side of the road, his body baring road rash and asphalt. He had once been a part of an abusive roadside zoo, yet the twolegs had decided he wasn't interesting enough and abandoned him. He didn't do tricks, didn't obey the twolegs, and hadn't been very nice to the twolegs who fed him. Half of it was his fault for being dumped in the middle of nowhere, but the twolegs shouldn't have stolen him from Africa in the first place. Now the African Wild Dog was far away from his natural habitat, the savanna, which was in no form a good thing.
Dazed, the canine began to wander through a forest, right by the road he had been abandoned on. Sawbones' head was bleeding badly, and he likely had a concussion as well, so he could only hope there weren't any predators in the forest. His multi-colored pelt didn't blend in well with the trees and undergrowth, only further worsening his situation. Eventually, the tattered African Wild Dog flopped down next to the roots of a tree, curling into a ball. His eyelids fought to stay open, yet sleep soon overcame him.
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