Malcolm ||loner||

[Rory!]

Name: Malcolm, Mal.
Age: 31 moons.
Gender: Male
Clan: Loner
Rank: Warrior
Personality:

Malcolm, or rather as Mal, as he often prefers, is energetic to say the least. If he isn't moving around, talking or just generally being annoying, he's probably asleep. He is friendly to most; as long as you're cool with him, he's cool with you. There is a certain.. Charisma that circulates around the tabby tom that just makes you want to like him, which isn't necessarily a bad thing either. He's not much of a liar; he is in fact, the type of cat to tell you exactly like it is. It isn't always intentional, but he can be a bit rude or offensive at times without meaning it. He might example, ask you if you're pregnant, because it seems rather obvious and you are not a pregnant queen. He occasionally apologizes for it, if you point out that he was offensive to begin with.

He's not a super genius, but Mal isn't dumb. He's better at some things, and god awful at other things, like fishing or anything that involves stalking. Hunting altogether isn't his forte, but he's a decent fighter. He picks up on fighting moves much quicker than say, a hunting position. The only reason he's still alive is because he can run fast enough and catch his usual small-fry prey off-guard. Malcolm hasn't ever really given the clans much thought. As far as he is concerned, they have nothing to do with him. While he doesn't particularly care for the lonely lifestyle that comes with being a loner, he doesn't really think he would do much better in a clan. He likes to move around and being his own man or cat. He's rebellious by nature and in time, would most likely piss off whichever leader or superior ranked warrior who was in charge of him.

He's been a single cat his entire life, so his social skills aren't as great as you would expect a loud-mouth like him to have. He can relate to them, naturally. But when it comes to small-talk or even just the correct terminology, it's a little shot. The closest he has ever been with another cat was someone who he treated like a brother. And once you're in with Malcolm, you're probably going to stay that way. He's loyal and too damn stubborn to let them leave, whether they get annoyed by him or not. And trust me, there have been more than one cats who walked away from friendship with Malcolm. He's cocky, headstrong and always has to have things his way. No other way flies, which is why he doesn't believe he could have any other lifestyle than the one he has now.

[/blockquote]Description:

There is nothing outrageous about Malcolm's appearance. He is an american short hair, which is softer and sheds like crazy. It keeps him cooler in the summer, though during the harsh winters, he occasionally wishes he was back in a nice house, where he could snuggle up next to his late owner. That is of course, only for a split second. He is of average build, standing just a little over a foot tall, from paw to shoulder blade. He has strong, muscular legs that are definitely made for running and jumping. He can move quickly through open moors, though cannot creep around in the marshes or even the Thunderclan woods to save his life. Which I suppose is fine, considering he's not in neither of those clans anyway.

He has a long scar running across his right shoulder blade, which he got during his first few moons in the wild. He also has another scar under his jaw, which he doesn't talk about where he got from- probably because he doesn't really remember how he got it. His fur is a pale yellow, almost blonde colour, with faint tabby stripes. His muzzle is a pale tan/whitish colour, as the same for his underbelly and the majourity of his paws. Only his back left paw is pale blonde. He has greenish-gold eyes, with pale tan spots around them.

Clan Page Description:

A blonde tabby tom with pale green eyes.

History:

Malcolm's history isn't particularly interesting. There's no dramatic tear-jerking sadness, so he has that going for him. His parents were a breeding couple, owned by twolegs he never really saw except for when it came time to bring out the food and of course, to take him away when he was old enough. Given it was such a long time ago and he had been so young at the time, Mal doesn't have too many memories of his littermates or his parents, which suit him just fine, as he was taken to a loving home anyway. He was adopted by a lovely old woman, who had most likely lost someone important to her recently and had bought a cat to fill the gap. She gave him the name Malcolm, as she thought it sounded respectable and she most certainly wouldn't have wanted to be named something like Stripes or Fluffy.

He and the old woman lived happy together for the next two years. Malcolm provided company and she allowed him to come and go as he pleased. (Granted, he had been a little afraid to go outside at first, though he got used to the idea pretty quickly). As time progressed, he became more and more adventurous with how far he went out into the big bad wilderness. And as days became weeks and weeks became months, Malcolm began to spend less and less time inside, letting the old woman alone. It wasn't much after he had started to teach himself to hunt that he met a loner named Rocket. Rocket told the younger kittypet what it was like to be a loner, and how much freedom he got. He wouldn't ever have to leave this little paradise he had come across.

Rocket taught Malcolm how to be independent, how to hunt a bit better and even some fighting moves- just enough to get him by most confrontations from other loners or even rogues. He also told him of the clans, which up until now, Malcolm had believed to be nothing more than a story told to kits. Rocket told him to steer clear of the clans and anybody else involved with them, as they were all bad news. Meeting Rocket had changed Malcolm; now that he had had a taste of what it was like being totally free, he didn't want to be a house pet anymore. He loved the old woman, however, and decided to stick around for awhile longer.

A few months later for us humans, the old woman moved into a retirement home and was forced to give up Malcolm, since they didn't allow pets. After a heartfelt goodbye with his former master, Mal left for a life in the wild, which is what he has been doing ever since. He has noticed however, that lately, Rocket has been coming to see him less and less. To the point where, he wonders if something had happened to him.

[{SaNcTuS}]

Accepted