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Location: No Information
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Gender: male - tom
Played By: Elephant Graveyard
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Joined: 1-June 17
Last Seen: Today at 08:08 pm
Local Time: Aug 20 2017, 09:38 PM
69 posts (0.9 per day)
( 0.39% of total forum posts )
Aug 17 2017, 09:56 AM
He didn't necessarily like interacting with other clans, but it wasn't like he had much to worry about when it came to Windclan. In all honesty, they seemed like the clan that posed the lowest threat to his own. In fact, they seemed rather peaceful compared to the rest. Riverclan had that Pyrestar who just didn't like his clan for some reason, Thunderclan liked to think they were the best, Skyclan had tunnels they controlled- not to mention a deputy that just didn't like Shadowclan, and Bloodclan was just... there. Actually he didn't really think there was much worry about Bloodclan currently going on. They were kind of just sitting there at the moment.
But Windclan, Windclan was just a bordering clan that hung out. Whatever the feelings he had for the group though, he still did bring news for them.
Padding to the border, the three eyed tom would seat himself quietly, wondering who would approach him first. Most likely a border patrol, as that was where he had patiently seated himself.
//sorry for the crappy post, i'm not good at thread starters
Jun 21 2017, 12:45 PM
//If you're too lazy to read everything, just read the last two paragraphs ;3
It had only been a few days, but to Firemountain it had felt like decades. He wasn't meant to be trapped in a metal cage, the strong smell of rubbing alcohol wrapping all around him. The forest was where he belonged. But whatever the case, he hadn't been able to make that clear to the twolegs. In fact, that was the main reason he lay sedated now on the edge of the territory. He had just been a bit too much for them.
Well, in many directions actually. Part of it was that they had a hard time controlling him while he was awake- although as he slept through their tests, they were the real creatures that needed controlling. They prodded him, attached him to machines, and tested how long he could stay afloat in water before he drowned. The power of life is what they held. The power to control his life. He sworn he had died in that tank of water, yet the day after he reawoke. Tired, but still awake.
It seemed they had grown tired of him though, and therefore had dumped him back onto his home territory. What they had given him was something far worse than many could imagine though. His neck had gained a whole new level of fluff, as well as a yellow collar that read "#1697" (however at the moment his collar was hidden under his newly grown fur). But that wasn't the main thing that stood out. What really stood out was the piercing white bandages wrapped around his head. Near the center of the bandages that were wrapped around his forehead, there was a small bump with an odd liquid plastered against the bandages. What that was about would most definitely be shared when the bandages came off- although many questions would also arrise even after.
At the current time though, the chocolate tabby would only lie in his unconscious state on the edge of the territory and wait, unknowing his current state or where he even happened to be.
Jun 17 2017, 12:38 PM
Twolegs. they were never something Firemountain tried to get close to. That was mainly because twolegs were idiots though. They never did logical things. They rode metal boxes around and hard black earth. Not to mention they had dogs. Such stupid creatures really. True- they had recently adopted a dog into Shadowclan, but most dogs were still very dangerous. Especially the one he had run into on a solo border patrol.
It had started out as a regular patrol, one where he was focusing on the border that met with twoleg houses. He hadn't however been expecting to find a break in the fences. And the break certainly hadn't been there the last time he had been on a patrol. No- it was new, and one caused by force for that reason.
And only seconds later came along the brute who had caused the break in the usually sturdy structure. Firemountain himself wasn't even stupid enough to fight the mutt, which left only one other option to him- run. But where would he run to? Definitely not the forest- he would risk leading the dog to his clanmates and causing even more problems. As well as that, he would create a nice trail straight to camp for the mutt if the other followed him on the full route.
No- it was time for him to make a break into the twoleg neighborhood. And so he did. It wasn't like he had time to think of a different choice anyways. After all, there was a dog on his tail who was probably interested in killing him. He had no real option to think out a thorough plan in this sort of situation.
So it was into the neighborhood he went. Undoubtedly, he would soon escape the dog, but by that point the dog itself would be the least of his problems. Now the real issue was that he was surrounded by twolegs. A feral cat surrounded by twolegs. And of course, that meant he would be sent to an animal shelter. Of course- the twolegs who had found him probably felt they were doing things for the best. But then- the lab who 'adopted' him were out to change everything he stood for.
//he'll be gone for a few days. but don't worry, when he comes back he'll be quite interesting :3c
Jun 4 2017, 11:19 AM
Shadowclan. That was his home. It was where he had been born, and where he lived now. And he didn't much plan on leaving it either. He was pretty happy with his home, and enjoyed staying here in it. Not that he would have a reason to leave anyways. Shadowclan was actually pretty nice- regardless how other clans made it appear. Granted, that was probably because he actually lived here insted of just being an outsider, but he could still have an opinion on what Shadowclan was really like. And yeah, he'd probably fight someone for said opinion as well.
Nearing the freshkill pile, the tabby would frown slightly. "Are there any hunting patrols out right now? Or can we send one out? I'm willling to take a trip hunting" Firemountain would ask aloud, adding in a volunteer of his own so he wouldn't look like an asshole or anything.