VESPER is out to get you ;; loner

[{{ vesper°°]

Name: vesper

Gender: she-cat

Age: twelve moons

Rank: none

Clan: loner

Mate/crush:

Role player: vesper

Personality:

vesper is feisty, to say the least. although it escapes her in sharp words more than it does in heated fighting. vesper likes to stay in control. whether that means keeping calm and collected, or allowing herself to beat the fur off of any fellow loner she might find. this young she-cat cat is a strategist. and doing so, she’s secluded herself from most groups she may find. forever a loner, vesper has kept to herself and let her long sleek black legs take her to where she wants to go. and though she may seem like an anti-social, vesper craves the company of others. so, usually, she follows clans. from one tribe, to a number of troops, or a single household. vesper stays hidden. and very, very jealous.

but vesper isn’t a mean cat, no matter how hard she tries. and, sometimes, succeeds. but her dark choices have never come naturally. each hard decision she makes is bitter, and overflowing with regret, as most are. she’s happy to keep company, no matter how icy her eyes. and the warmth of others has always been what she longed for.

feisty and witty, this young savannah has a dangerously sharp tongue. and pre thought out sarcasm has always slipped itself into her generally neutral voice. it doesn’t come naturally. as none of her traits do. and each snide comment has been shelved and reused many times before.

Appearance:

opposite to her personality, vesper’s carefree appearance has always come naturally. and, being an f1 savannah, wild cat appearance runs strongly through her veins. in her movement, in her eyes, in her tail, yet not in her coloring. vesper is jet black. and very, very stealthy.

unfortunately, vesper was a runt. and although her size is comparable to any normal domestic shorthair (such as her mother), kit, compared to her siblings, vesper was tiny.

vesper has been faced with many challenged in her mere twelve moons of living. apprentice age, if you ask any wise warrior cat. her largest challenge? facing life as a loner. which vesper was very, very keen at. vesper is tall, measuring fourteen and a half inches from shoulder to toe (will grow about an inch taller. then finished, promise). and living in high weeds and dark alleyways has given her a hefty reputation for being quite an even kitty for her age. but that was only her shadow. in truth, vesper is quite slender for her size. her long lean legs carry her far, and her jumping skills are enough to get her an easy bird kill. but compared to the muscular fully grown loners she lurked with, she was still a little one.

with a face to match, vesper appears fairly exotic compared to the normal housecat. although she appears more like an f2 than an f1. and her runt status got her nowhere in the litter. her large golden eyes are rimmed with jet black. and on any lighter coat, making her appear to be wear mascara. her ears are large, swiveling multiple degrees around to listen for slight noises. Down her face, long thick dark “cheetah marks” run down her cheeks. faintly darker compared to her smoky black fur. features carried in even the faintest of savannah lineage.

one feature more embarrassing than the others is her tail, much shorter and rounder than most tails. with a faint pattern of rings along the tip and center, almost invisible against her fur.

History:

“Mama!” I called, warily setting a paw against the smooth icy glass. She gazed back at me, or gloomy green eyes neutral and emotionless. The reflection of the glass was hard to see through. And she couldn’t tell if she was crying, or if it was just the rain. Her mother was an old cat, her clean glossy black fur quickly beginning to grow grey hairs.

I wasn’t her first litter. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if I was her second. And the idea of having her kits taken away from her didn’t scare her as much as it did. The Kitty-Pet had seen it many times before. She bore them, taught them, and set them free. At least, what seemed like setting. To her, it was a happy home. To me, it was a prison cell. And the cage they had first tried to put me in was exactly that.

The car began to start, it’s engine starting smoothly, like a perfectly soothed cat. It’s soft purr was nearly soundless. This was a nice car. Much nicer than the one they had brought her father in. It’s dark leather seats were beginning to warm with Two-Leg bodies and blowing hot air from the sleek tiny vents.
I wiggled free of the tiny Two-Leg’s grasp as the car began to start. My mother raised a paw to the glass. I did the same. Then, she turned away. My heart broke into pieces.

I woke, my heart beating out of my chest. Two feline figures stood over me. On fluffy, and one as beaten and worn as the kitchen carpet she slept on. It seemed like the two only things that weren’t shiny and new. Damian spoke first, “The Lion King’s got something to tell you. You know, about the great escape you two have been-“ The second cat quickly cut him off. “It’s Littleflame, you mousebrain.” Littleflame flicked his bright orange tail and narrowed his eyes in irritation. Damian muffled a snide chuckle before turning his attention back to me. They were polar opposites. One a fluffy adolescent Himalayan, and the other an elderly orange tabby. I didn’t know the term for him then. But after a while, I learned. Littleflame was a Warrior cat.

“The sun has yet to come out. We have time to leave.” He began to move to the children’s playroom. “The little Two-Leg left the window open.”

“Her name is Rosie,” Damian added sharply.

“And I don’t care.”

I finally spoke. “So, you want me to… Leave? You mean, Littleflame, back to mother?” I jumped up onto my feet. Blinking away sleep as a began to stumble warily into the playroom. I looked over my shoulder, only to find him staring owlishly up at me.

“Did she grow again?” Damian whispered. But the tabby ignored him.

“No, I’m taking you to the clans. It’s where we belong, Dovekit.” He jumped up onto the ledge. His balance was perfect, but his wary expression wasn’t.

“Dove- what?” I ignored his statement, to confused to respond. She wanted to go back home to mother. Not into the woods. It would take suns to get there.

“Have you gone blind? She’s black as a raven, and a persona to match if you ask me.” Damian stood his ground by the doorway. His fluffy color point tail fluffing up in disapproval.

Within minutes, Littleflame had already gotten me to jump out of the ledge. That was the last time I saw the house. Within seconds, Littleflame had already bid Damian a cut goodbye. That was the last time I saw him too. And within an hour of traveling, Littleflame was gone. I looked back, searching for him through the night. Only to find a crippled orange body and his last words ringing through my head.

“No, I’m taking you to the clans. It’s where we belong, Dovekit.”
I set out to find the clans Littleflame has spoken of. Instead, nothing. Then, I went out in search of my mother. No one. In one last desperate attempt, I searched for my old home. I was lost.

For suns, I was on my own. Starved, lost, and filled with hate for the cat that had brought me here. I was self taught. Not by some uppity Warrior with a taste of freedom. This wasn’t a fairytale. I was never going to find the clans. And when I did, I was rejected.

“What’s your name, young one?”

I stared at the Warrior Cats, eye level with most and at least an inch taller than the rest of the young apprentices. My sleek dusty black figure was slender, but well fed. “Vesper.”

[Tigerstar]

I'm truthfully not so sure about this bio. I think you should PM Max about being half Serval. I'm pretty sure its not allowed, as all the cats in the books are like regular cats.