Slightshrew would be a rather handsome cat if it were for his pelt alone. With a soft silvery blue base, his coat is crossed with dark brown and chocolatey stripes in what could best be described as a mackrel pattern. It tips his ears, one with a larger splotch than the other, as well as tipping his tail, and coating the rest in swirled stripes and whirls that help him to blend well with shadowy tree branches and snowy fields alike.
Unlike many strong, able-bodied toms, Slightshrew has never been the biggest, or the healthiest of cats. Despite a voracious appetite, he has an issue with gaining weight or bulk of any kind, and is prone to getting any trivial illness in the clan. Someone catches the sniffles? He'll be the next one to get it himself. Rather than roaming abroad and gaining muscle and toning, his frailty has caused him to stay closer to den and become a bit more of a homebody.
Perhaps the most off-putting aspect of his look are his eyes. One of which is a handsome orange-gold in color, and quite expressive. His right eye, however, is dull in comparison - the best description is to say that it is foggy in color; as if clouds are covering it's brightness. This is due to an odd quirk developed shortly after his birth; a cataract that covers the iris of that eye. It doesn't do much to hinder his vision save give it a watery or smoky glassiness on that side. Some find the off-kilter stare of his a little off-putting however.
A cat in his position may have every right to be a bitter ass - but Slightshrew is a cat of amazing good humor, known for his unwavering ability to laugh at himself and to find the bright side of any situation. It's true that he didn't have an easy time growing up, or is the strongest or best of cats - but honestly, he'd be the first to point out his faults anyways, letting them go with an easy shrug and a laugh. It's not that he's harboring any secret ill will or dangerous revenge fantasies either - he is genuinely easy going and can easily laugh off any ridicule towards his appearance.
His namesake - at least the latter half - was given in equal parts as a nod to his size, his craftiness, and his voracious appetite - shrew's, after all, are known to eat almost their entire body weight in their chosen prey, and honestly for a small a cat as Slightshrew is, he loves nothing better than a good meal. He has survived for longer than other cats, and gained a rank with health issues and minor hindrance that some cats never see - so he has some skills obviously. He makes up for what he lacks in physical strength with crafty ideas and a good-heartedness that may encourage those around him to go on and do better; a fellow who always sees the glass as half full, rather than empty or without hope.
A bit of a homebody, Slightshrew prefers to hunt and protect the camp closer to home than to go on any grand adventures. He is a homebody at heart, and will take great pride in telling stories and sharing tongues, rather than bragging about bloodshed and battles of days past. He is the type of cat who bonds to a clan not for glory, but for the sense of community that one gains.
Truth be told, he is likely to be the type of warrior who retires early; destined to die in his nest rather than on the battlefield. But in the meantime, he's perfectly willing to defend the home front.
Slightshrew was born during a particularly harsh winter - an odd time for kits, to be sure, and not a safe time for kits to usually be born in the wild. He was the only kit of his litter to survive; odd, seeing as he was a scrawny, small little thing. His mother, Morelfur, took one look at her son and seemed to right him off. His sisters, both stillborn, were named by their grieving father, Gorsepelt, but their names, to him, have been forgotten. Left in his mother's care, he was named Slightkit because of his pathetic size; but he wasn't expected to live through the night.
However, he began to show a tenacity for life, and while he did not exactly thrive, he did survive. He continued to feed, and grow, ever so slightly. By the time he was old enough to be an apprentice, however, it was decided that it should be delayed; as he was prone to nasty colds, and was currently suffering through one. Thought that he'd be swept away by his illness, it wasn't until the season was almost over when he was finally handed over to being apprenticed to his own father.
Gorsepelt, like his mother, was hardly attentive; constantly overlooking his own son's abilities, comparing him to kits from his second litter - which were much stronger, having been sired by a different she-cat. Slightpaw would do everything he could to please his father, showing off a keen sense of humor, and a remarkable lucky streak - he was not the strongest, but he had a mind that made up for it. Unfortunately, Gorsepelt could not see this in his own son; and continued to draw out his apprenticeship, saying he wasn't ready, or would really, ever be ready, for warriorhood.
It wasn't until Gorsepelt's death, and his given to a female warrior named Sloefire. A small delicate she-cat, constantly overlooked herself, she knew how to make Slightpaw's mind work for him. In less than a moon, he was finally given his warrior name, Slightshrew - named for a small, crafty animal.
Since then, he has continued to be a solid presence in his clan; never really making waves, but bent on adding his keen intellect to fixing problems that others seem to overlook, with surprisingly good humor.
Permission for cataract given by King Harry - as I drew this lovely bugger from their Solstice Lucky Dip.
Carried Home is a Warriors roleplay forum. We feature four clans - all four of which have futures that heavily depend on what your characters do - as well as a 50 word count minimum on RP posts, and a functioning currency and shop.
While most of the action does center around our four clans, members are also permitted to make loners, rogues, and kittypets. You can also make both StarClan and Dark Forest characters.