CANARY

[!?ace!]

NAME. canary
GENDER. male
AGE. 1Y 4M
CLASS. vagrant
MONARCHY. none (so far)

APPEARANCE.
- - b u i l d
Lanky in height, small in weight. Miniature in every way. He seems oddly out of portion, paws too big for his feet, ears big as his face. He has little to no muscules formed, or rather, he has yet to form any new muscules. Weak, scrawny, he hardly poses a threat to any creature. Large chest, small face and long legs, he is an odd creature, large button eyes that smile and whiskers that twitch with a joke you'll probably never understand.

- - c o a t & m a r k i n g s

Dirty, at least most of the time. Rolling in mud, racing around. Grass sticks to his pelt which, if it were cleaned, would be a bright chocolate brown. Large, bat-like ears stand above his head, small and angular. A short muzzle and large, bright green eyes make up his face. A lean chest and curling body makes up on four stilt-like legs with a tail with a similiar likeliness to that of a rat. He has large pale scars, ranging in length on his stomach, protruding slightly from the skin. His pawpads are also scarred, sometimes bleeding if they walk too long on rough grounds.


PERSONALITY.

Fluffy, soft and friendly, three words that truly express who Canary is. Young and bright, Canary has the mentle capacity of a three-year old, easily distracted by birds and butterflies. A young fellow, with a bright smile, Canary is exetremely optimistic and is willing to share that optimism and happiness with everyone he comes across. Bobbing up and down, you would think Canary has the personality of the bird he was named after, friendly yet shy, scared. But no, Canary is more like boistorous cockerel, jumping head first without little idea on what is going to happen.

Canary could be described as a ladies man. His rusty voice can a surprisingly good swoon as he smiles happily. at all he meets. He wants to be social, so if there's a crowd, he is sure to be there, entering any conversation he hears with bright, eager eyes. He wants to be everyone's friend, and nobody' enemy.


HISTORY.
He remembers a pool of blood.

his childhood was dark. dismay. he knows nothing of his parents, but the scars they inflicted in the shadows of the night. the only beacon being his oldest sister, shikiri whose eyes were so strange. they were purple

He remembers violets, that seemed to shine while the leaves themselves are black.

he had always been scrawny, skinny. he will never continue to grow, always mere inches above the size of an average cat. malnutrition keeps him from growing stronger. always a sense of a hunger, of thirst. dark oak trees. but lullabies would always comfort the kitten.

He opens his eyes, his body sore.

abuse. scars inflicted on his sister. wounds ravaged his own body. he didn't understand why. he didn't understand the fear of the cats that passed by. he just felt the claws of others. better not to question.

Something echoes in his mind. A scream, a desperate cry.

so his sister ran. and he ran with her. into the night, far away. but they were hunted down. his sister told him to run. he did or at least he tried, hearing the screech of his sister, her final sound before she died. they came upon him. he was down, skull colliding with stone.

He awakes, mind in stupor. remembering little to nothing. He finds himself in a trance as a small bird sings.

moments later, he finds the body. it doesn't take much to connect. the blood on his paws, the wounds on the female's body. his heart goes out. he can only assume it was someone important.

The bird still sings, as the nameless cat weeps. It finishes it's song and flies off, a yellow feather drifting down to his paw, to soak in his blood and tears

canary. The name it seems all too familiar.

[/justify]

VOICE. raspy. rustic. sounds like he's been gargling razor blades. this is due to his slight vocal problems [largynospasm; causes difficulty inhaling / talking; usually brough on by stress or sudden fear]. He speaks only in birdsong and riddles, unable to understand why people look at him so strangely when he answers their question with the call of the common cardinal.

GAIT. Usually quite confident and cocky, Canary is more of a man who has little to fear, despite being nothing but skin and bones. Often, his gait seems to be associated with songs that only he hears, skips and twists, twirls and tucks that keep people laughing and smiling.

SECRETS. he thinks he killed his sister! but shhh! don't tell.
DREAMS. Canary wants nothing more to perform for the royal monarchy
FEARS. He sees blood from another cat
and starts to shake. A pacifist by nature, he hates the sound of fighting.
SOCIAL HISTORY. Friendly to all he meets, despite having little to no means of communicating with cats, he likes to be surrounded by people, if not people than sounds and voices. He loves any sounds, be it gentle winds or rolling thunder. He can appreciate war cries, but he hates the calls of the dead, the last scream that comes from a dying animal.
QUESTIONS. mostly regarding his memory, the dead cat who he assumes was his sister, and the past he barely knows.
'why are violets so important?'
'why can't i speak the normal tongue other cats do?'
'did i kill her? why?'
'and if i didn't, who did?'
'why did i survive?'

[abri[elle]]

pending approval

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You have your character listed as a vagrant and as a part of the Western Monarchy. Vagrants are not part of a monarchy. Did you intend your character to be a vagrant of no monarchy, or a serf of the Western Monarchy? Canary will be approved once this is specified.

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approved

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[!?ace!]

Canary tends to join the west monarchy as soon as possible to serve as a minstrel. Until then, he is a vagrant.

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