Fogdance + Dance in the Haze

[Eclypse]

Fogdance is © to me, Natasha Gravito. 2007-Present. Please do not take apart her bio for your own use, or anything about her. She is very special to me, and is one of few original characters I have. <3


If you love me
Why'd you let me go?

I took my love down to Violet Hill
There we sat in snow
All that time she was silent still

So if you love me
Won't you let me know?

[[ Name ] Fogdance
[[ Age ] 24 Moons
[[ Gender ] She-Cat
[[ Clan ] StreamClan
[[ Rank ] Warrior
[[ Theme ] Violet Hill by Coldplay
[[ Alignment ] Neutral
(It's hard to tell for other cats, but she is Good)

[[ Gallery ]
(All photos are of the same cat)
I See You | Eyes of Honey | Teeth of Peril | Ghost of Past | It's Not Me, It's You
Strange Angles | Inside Myself | Eyes of Devastation | Intensity | My Comfort | Freedom
It's All Black and White | Shadows | Window into Another World | Power | Let Sleeping Cats Lie | Wise Claws | I Have a Secret

[[ Appearance ]
Beginning with her pelt, Fogdance is instantly recognized for her immaculate appearance with such pure fur and piercing eyes. Her lithe body is made up of trained and worked muscles, concealed beneath a thick snowy pelt. At first glance, you wouldn’t expect much of a threat about her, until you came to closer inspection. She’s unusually large in comparison with other femmes, and her claws are too long to retract most of the time- or better to say, they still show even sheathed. She is very good about keeping a clean coat, and can be found grooming every now and then. Though it is true that Streamclan is know for its fondness of water, she has always had a love of it- even in kithood. She enjoys bathing in rainwater and streams.

Yet, the most intriguing and attractive part of this ravishing white beauty would have to be her eyes. Unlike her mother’s blue eyes, and her brother’s green eyes, she inherited her cruel father’s golden gaze- a terrible reminded of those harsh days of youth. Rich aureate surrounds her black slit pupils, while eventually entangling into oceans of goldenrod and honey when reflected upon light. But usually, they are a dark, ochroid color with deep entwining of goldish greens and chocolate brown rims.

As if someone had taken liquid amber itself and formed it into the perfect shape of an almond, her magnificent gold eyes are utterly breathtaking. Not even the sonorously glowing sun can describe her deep and everlasting optics of pure gold. Like the sweet honey that seeps about in combs, they too hide a dark secret to their creation. A secret that was created by pain and suffering. Though she is taken to have no feelings, her eyes say otherwise.

Her captivating orbs have amazed a male here and there, but she has never returned feelings. They just never really interested her in such a way that she would consider something more with them. But, that does not mean that she is completely oblivious to all males. There is one that always catches her eye. Who? No one may ever fathom. But to herself, she is oblivious at her true beauty, and she dares not think of seeing herself as anything close to beautiful.

[[ Short Description ]
A beautiful she-cat with a faultless white coat and intense gold eyes. She has a mysterious and somewhat quiet personality, and it’s hard to know what she’s thinking or feeling.

[[ Personality ]
She’s almost indescribable. With such a vexing attitude, Fogdance and her actions are usually unpredictable. It’s difficult to identify her feelings or thoughts about a situation, and it is even more difficult to understand what she regards about another cat. She keeps to herself most of the time, and a lot of the clan felines see her as expressionless or emotionless. But with luminous orbs as brilliant as the yellow moon itself, her eyes always seem to speak of something her lips will never share. Most cats in the clan even question if her loyalty is with them, or still about the life of a rogue only because she does not speak her introspection like others do. She simply is, a solemn cat.

However, many expect her to have a fiery temperament with so many feelings locked away. But she is just the opposite. With a somber disposition, she is not angered easily, but is more secret with her frustration or irritation. And instead of unleashing it towards her fellow clanmates, she focuses it into her fighting and training; possibly a reasons as to why she is one of the strongest wills in the Clan. Since her birth, she has experienced strange signs of acutely sharpened senses, such as taste, smell, sight and touch. These abilities have given her the perfection of a Warrior and Clanmate. Her combat skills are one of the best, and her larger than most physique is assistance in battle, too.

Love has never been a concept in Fogdance’s life, even with the coming to a new clan and new cats. Though there has always been one cat in Streamclan she has felt something for. But she herself can’t even put a name to the feeling. Possibly a crush? She does not know him personally, but his personality and determination is something she’s ceaselessly admired. Whether it will ever form into something more, she doesn’t know. But at the time being, she will have to focus on the Clan.

[[ History ]
In the beginning, with the scent of rogue on her pelt and the look of blankness in her eyes, Deer, or Fogdance as she came to be known, was avoided warily by her fellow clanmates

Fog’s long and intricate history begins with her father, once a loyal and worthy warrior of Streamclan by the name of Nightshade. But he was young and full of curiosity, so when a beautiful stranger passed the borders, he was keen to investigate, in, of course, the purpose of protecting his clan. When he laid claw on the intruding female, she evaded his blows with ease without aiming a paw in return. Confused by the lack of response, he paused, only to see her smile, charming and young.

Though no doubt loyal to his clan, Nightshade had few relatives alive in his clan and even fewer friends; his tough heart an undesirable trait for a Streamclan warrior. Lonely, and full of young desire, he clung to the strangers charm, and soon fell in love. But his happiness was short lived.

Soon after, during one of the planned meeting that had become regular in their lives, a Streamclan patrol was wandering the area, with their Leader in front. Before either of the two could notice, the patrol was upon them, with all of the Leader’s rage. For the Streamclan leader recognized this femora for what he was; a rogue. In his haste and usually harsh manner, the Leader banished Nightshade for breaking the warrior code. Without home, Nightshade agreed to return with his love to her home amongst rogues. But neither was peace waiting for him there.

During his time away that long day, the rogues had had a mutiny, one of the young arrogant toms overthrowing the longtime leader. Nightshade and his love returned to find pain waiting for them, for the new leader Fang, knew all too well where the young tom had been slipping off too during the days, and he shared no more pity for clancats than the Streamclan Leader did for rogues. In a moment’s time, her love was dead, and she stood in a circle of rogues. But for a female clancat, Fang had better torture than letting her die; he let her live. As time passed, and Nightshade’s hope began to fade, the world got worse. Fang, seeking a mate, took Nightshade’s love (who was later found to be named Dream) to bear heirs to his position, whether she wanted to or not. By this, Deer was born.

Nightshade was never heard of again.

She began life in a coarse bramble bed in rogue territory, in the sheltered Broken Nest with her mother, a single sibling, her brother Fox, and the name of Deer. Born into the desolate territory and life of a Rogue, the young kits had a trying life from the beginning, struggling for survival against the bitter cold and scarcely decent prey that Fang allotted them. However, the pair were the only descendants of the Rogue leader, Fang, and hence received far better care then most nursing queens and kittens.

Deer and her brother Fox seemed to gain the only affection the cold-hearted leader possessed; for the obvious reason of being Fang's kits and, more likely, because they were the leader's only hopes for a successor. When Fang first saw the two kits, the male already larger and with a more powerful appearance than his at the time small sister, the Rogue leader saw the male as the perfect future leader, ready to follow in his pawsteps. This plan, flawless in Fang's mind, was immediately put into action and announced to his bloodthirsty clan, though it wasn't long before he realized the mistake he'd made.

Even in the beginning, Deer had a deathly aura to her, which breathed of an important future in the ranks of the Rogues, and a quick strong body that gave her her name. Barely beyond the age of three moons, the white kit became the idea of prey for a passing young hawk, whom flew out of the skies to grasp the kit in its talons. Fang, though watching from nearby, made no move to protect the young she-cat, seeing her death as no large loss to the clan. But even at such a young age, the kit was far from helpless, and immediately turned on her captor, her razor-sharp kitten claws tearing into the Hawk's offending grip and legs. The young hawk, screeching in pain, released the kit, which fell the few tail-lengths to the ground, still hissing and spitting at her attacker. Whether it was the Deer's young age or ignorance in its blind rage, it soared back down for another try at the kit.

Though Deer’s mother had, for some time, been lost to depression, she was not about to willingly lose one of the only kits she had; whether they were hers or not. With mother at Deer’s side this time, the pair lunged together at the approaching raptor. Her mother’s weight kept the bird close to the ground, her claws tearing at the bird's chest while Deer dove for the raptor's unprotected throat.

Her young teeth piercing the bird’s windpipe and her mother's claws bringing free-flowing blood, the hawk quickly crashed to the hard earth, where the kit still bite at the dead animal's neck. Fang starred at the kit from where he sat a few paces off, and finally gave a slow nod to his daughter that was watching him. But Deer, young as she was, had seen her father’s refusal to aid, and for moons, had seen how poorly he treated her mother. So, instead, she only glared back at the leader, with greater courage than she understood.

Day by day, her brother seemed to disappoint the clan leader more and more. Fox, despite his massive size and rippling muscles, was as soft as any Twoleg kittypet. And since their Rogue Clan lived far from any other cats, it was tough to see help from others. They were unknown to anyone. Unlike his sister, Fox relied heavily on those who brought him prey, instead of attempting to catch his own, and showed no interest in the violence that was necessary to hold the rogue-cats in their place. Fox, though a powerful opponent, let so many other things come before the responsibility of his future leadership. When Fang finally had to face this fact, he turned to Deer to take care of the problem "for the good of the clan."

And while Deer hated her father, she had an ever-growing hatred for her brother that was far bolder. For he had gained one thing from the rogue leader and that was cruelty. Learning eagerly from watching his father, he had come to treat his own mother in the same cruel manner he did. So Deer agreed to Fang’s orders; not for him, but for herself, and for her mother.

Catching her brother alone one night when the pair was 10 moons old, the she-cat quickly disposed of the larger tom with her agility and swift claws and sharp fangs. But with blood on her nails and teeth and her heart racing, she wasn't ready to stop there. Stalking silently back toward the rogue camp, she searched for Fang, ready to avenge all the moons her mother and she had suffered. But, like it or not, she was still younger than he; killing her inexperienced brother was one thing, but this was completely out of her league.

Deer found Fang where he usually was when he could find no one else to yell at- with her mother Dream, and it only fueled her rage. As he lifted a paw to hit her, she charged, barreling into the leader’s side. Infuriated by the attempt, and assuming by her appearance that she had ignored his orders, he quickly slapped her off with a mighty paw. Despite her ambition, the battle was his, and he moved in for the killing blow. But still, Dream could not watch her daughter die, and she lunged, throwing the tom off the kit. Deer realized her failed attempt and the fatal results it would cause for her and her mother. So, at her mothers exasperated orders to run, she fled. She ran far south to the landmark she knew outside of rogue territory; a lake.

In her youth, her mother had told Deer and Fox fantastic stories of the lake and the forest as they dozed off to sleep. And, now, it seemed the perfect place to rest and get a grip on her future. Diving through the dense forest, Deer found herself beside massive oaks, with the lake view as vast and beautiful as her mother had said. Exhausted, she found camp in a hollow within the tree roots. The shelter smelled of cats, but not of rogues, so the den seemed enough to protect her for at least the night. And another night. And another day. For countless nights Deer slept beneath the tree- longer than she could count. And after about 7 moons of living on her own, her life completely changed.

She was about 17 moons old now, still young, but her times of lonesomeness had driven her to a life of solitude with no one but herself and the wild. But, as the morning light came on day, Deer was awakened by voices, lingering outside the mouth of her den and demanding that she step out. Struck with confusion and some kind of fear, she gathered what strength she had left and slipped out, starring up at the three full-grown cats with dread. But as they saw her to be younger than she actually was because of her size, their snarls softened into pity and confusion. Question after question was asked, but, simple as they were, Deer couldn't find the words to answer. So instead, she followed obediently back to camp, flanked by the group of cats (though she noticed their guard seemed more for her protection than theirs).

When they arrived at the ‘camp,’ one of her guards made the suggestion that changed her life. The she-cat suggested that Deer was a ‘kitten’ stolen by the rogues, which would explain the scent on her fur and the fear in her eyes. Realizing in an instant that this must be the clans her mother had spoken of so long ago, a tale that Deer always thought to be a fantasy dream and nothing more. But it was real, and she was standing inside it!

Knowing well enough that she did in fact have the ability to adequately hunt and defend herself, Deer clung to the female guards suggestion, agreeing at every turn. It was the only way she would ever get into this new home. Eventually, they would discover her true age; but it didn't seem as though they cared, for her size was still small. By this, she was granted life among Streamclan, for no cat could distrust her young, sincere eyes.

Now a warrior in the clan, she still lives with the lie. By the rumors and tales that still fly around camp, it is known that her origin lies with rogues, but the details are hidden. No one knows that she herself was a rogue, no one knows that her father was their leader, and still no one knows that once she killed her own brother in cold blood. Now, her only true fear is being discovered and her past revealed. But the past has changed her drastically into a seemingly cold, emotionless cat. After that fateful day in meeting the clan cats, her personality changed to shielding herself from the world. And in an unusual time frame, Deer grew to the biggest she-cat in the clan. But it was only those few adults, who had shown her kindness- now have come to question her faith to the clan.

It’s been only 7 moons since she arrived to the clans. Though she is considered to be young, her life has extravagantly turned her, and she is much older than she appears. She was given the name Fogpaw, because of her coat. And eventually, Fogdance- in honor of her graceful and swift fighting.


[[ Lineage ]
Birth Mother: Dream (Rogue)
Birth Father: Fang (Rogue Leader)
Birth Sibling: Fox (Deceased Rogue)
Mother-Figure: None
Father-Figure: None
Brother/Sister Figures: None

[[ RP Sample ]

As the morning sun began to stir, luminous rays of light broke through the dying dusk, foretelling of a new day. The streams of sunlight seeped through the thicket of the Warriors den, slowly crawling atop the whitest and flawless coat in the hollow. The light fell to no comparison against the blanket of snow.

In due time, the light soon began to swell, eventually covering most of the pelts in speckled spots of sunlight. The soft sound of air flowing in and out of the noses of cats quietly filled the fairish in size den, all eyes only a slither of black lashes- all except one. Morning’s light soon beckoned the she-cat to reality, and she reluctantly left the safety and comfort of her dreams. Sluggishly, white eyelashes crept open, taking in the newly discovered light with awareness as it proved the night’s sleepy spell to be truly over. Finally, with given time, gracious gold orbs bloomed to breathe in the sweet nectar of sunrise dew, fresh from the nearby flowers.

A white ear gave a quick twitch in recognition to her complete awakening. With a sudden urge, her jaw muscles tightened, stretching open to reveal a wide and pink mouth. Rows of ivory teeth sat neatly in their place, and were soon concealed again as her mouth came closed. The familiar taste of dry nothingness teased her mouth, and she helplessly licked her lips as a soft smacking sound echoed in the room. Water. She always drank from the stream in the morning- her mouth was usually dry. Though her body protested, she stood, her restricted stretch careful not to touch or disturb the other flanks that still rose and fell. Tediously, white paws stepped over the bodies, until she was entirely outside.

She opened her mouth to invite the fresh, brisk scents of the rainfall the day before; and it smelt wonderful. The femora had constantly been one for rain, but only for its smell and bringing of crisp rainwater. Activity began to move in her bones as she pawed her way towards the close stream. The ground had dried a bit quicker than usual, but the moist soil still lingered in most places. The familiar touch of foliage felt cold and crackled under her pink pads. Her senses had always been a tad more powerful than most, but it wasn’t always bad. It was things like this- the touch of leaves, the smell of rain- that made it worthwhile.

At last, she came to the small stream. It was surrounded by many trees, but a small path was still visible and led back to the camp. Autumn had found its way to the brush, and the leaves were still green here and there, but orange and red were beginning to appear. The clear and vivid crystal water trickled before her, and with a relieved sigh, she bent down as a pink tongue escaped to lap the water. It came to in fro, like a frog attempting to catch a fly- but like the frog, she always got the water. The luscious liquid soothed her mouth, quenching her once dry and yearning tastebuds. Her throat- and belly- gave a courteous thank you with a small rumble that signified satisfaction.

Lifting her white chin heavenward, she glanced at the passing clouds, rays of sunshine fighting to take control. And what would the day bring? ‘Something new, I hope…’ With a quick blink, she scurried off back to camp to begin the day’s activities. She was of a flash of white.

And only the birds sang a song with the babbling brook.

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[[don't]fear[the]reaper]

Okay, I accept this, but a couple things, Clypse:

1. Rogues/Rogue Leader: Funny thing about that, actually. "Rogue" has been defined for this series as cats who are particularly hostile towards the Clans. We've actually had a couple Rogue Groups [see the History, under ClawClan and the Faithful Shadows], but never any other than those. So, for you to have her be the daughter of a Rogue or a Rogue Leader is a little improbable, since, well, you know... There haven't been any rogue groups in quite a while in the game.

2. Clans: Okay, here's my only other major problem. The Clans have actually not existed for that long! Yeah, I know, weird, but, in game time, they've only been around about 6 months/moons. Again, check out the history.

So! Fix those things, and we'll be quite happy! I can see that you're going to be a valuable addition to our community!

[Eclypse]

1. Oh... Darnit.. I'm not sure how I would fix that. :/ That Rogue information is really crucial to her history.. I should've made sure it fit the site. ><;; Is there anyway, maybe, that the Rogues were hidden a ways from here or something? I'm sorry, I'm pretty much blank on ideas. x.x;

2. Confused on this one too.. I'm sure it's obvious, but I can be quite retarded sometimes. ;.; I'll try and edit it a bit..

[[don't]fear[the]reaper]

1. Yes, yes, that's possible. Perhaps in the semi-non-existant Twolegplace that used to be around here? Up until the point, that is, where we decided that kittypets were lame and useless and no one used 'em.

2. Um... maybe a pack of cats a good ways away from there? Or you could have him have been an OceanClan warrior originally. The History was always my favourite thing here.

[Eclypse]

1 & 2. Okay, I edited it. Does it sound more precise? I made her older, but that's okay- it fit perfectly to her originally intended age. ^^;

[[don't]fear[the]reaper]

Yeah, sure. I accepted it already; just wanted to give you a couple of pointers.