Harestar-Windclan-OH MY GOSH IT'S DONE

[soulreaperneko]

THE BIO FORM OF:



Harestar

Owned By: SoulReaperNeko

Name: Justo Hareleap Harestar

Age: 43 Moons

Gender: Male

Clan: Windclan

Ranking: Leader

Description: One would think it impossible for a cat to appear foreign. A cat is a cat, and all cats are the same in appearance. For a cat to look different from any other cat would be strange indeed, especially so if it looked to be from a place so very opposite from it's current location. But Harestar was always the exception. Never has a cat been so visibly and characteristically Spanish.

Harestar is a tall cat. Not large or big-boned, mind you, just tall. He towers above many of his clanmates and a few others. Because of his long legs, he has to be careful when running, lest he end up tripping over his own feet. Despite his above-average height, Harestar has a below-average weight. He used to be in such poor health that one would have no trouble in counting each of his ribs. Now he's in a more fit shape, though a few ribs remain countable through his tabby pelt.

His fur is nothing special, just the standard gray base with darker tabby stripes and a white underbelly. The white stretches from the bridge of his nose, down across his chest, around his legs, under his belly, and finally wraps around his tail. It breaks it's line to cover Harestar's ears in white. His fur is shorter than most's, having been born in a much warmer climate than he lives in now. He has a difficult time come leafbare, and he's constantly ill during this time of year. His tail, however, is much fluffier than the rest of him. This helps keep him somewhat warm while sleeping during the cold season.

Harestar's eyes are possibly the most striking thing about him. They're a baby blue, that much is obvious, however they're a much more vivid shade of baby blue than most. One could almost call them sky blue if they weren't a few shades short of being so. It's a rare sight to see a shade of blue so pale and so vivid at the same time, but Harestar seems to pull it off nicely. They do darken from time to time when he's troubled or in deep thought over something that requires troubling or deep thinking.

He speaks with a thick Spanish accent, and often jumbles up his English and Spanish. He also has a hidden talent for animal impressions, making him a delightful storyteller.

Personality: No one will ever claim that clan leader is an easy position. Being a single father isn't exactly all candy and gumdrops either. However, Harestar always seems to be able to keep a level head under stressful situations. As a leader, he's fair, thoughtful, and accepting. At the same time, he's naive, gullible, and still unsure of some of the clans' customs. It takes him a bit to understand someone when they speak hurried English, but he manages to piece together enough words to know what's being said. Likewise, others find it difficult to understand him when he's excited by something, as he involuntarily starts rambling in Spanish.

As a warrior, he loves fighting. That's not to say he's bad at hunting or reckless. No, he's good enough at hunting and knows danger when he sees it. He just loves the adrenaline a good fight provides. he can often be found at the training grounds with apprentices and their mentors, having mock battles as examples for the young'uns. He's good at fighting too, which isn't a surprise, considering how much practice he's had. He's loyal too. At first it was just to Lilystep, but it hadn't taken long for his loyalty to include his clan as well.

As a father, Harestar is worrisome. Though Cherrypaw inherited her mother's fur over his own constantly-short fur, he still doesn't like it when she stays outside in the cold for too long without doing anything. And boys. Boys are no-no. He knows when to back off, but he'll always stay within watching distance. Even with his constant fretting, Harestar and his daughter have an excellent relationship. He's not above playing in the leaves with her, or telling her stories, and not even the threat of a cold can keep him from having snow fights with Cherrypaw. He doesn't mind telling her about her mother, considering she only got to know her for a mere 6 moons.

History: Young Justo had lived an extraordinarily ordinary life. He was a stray, had been since birth, and he was quite content with being so. He roamed alone throughout the streets of Spain, though he was never quite sure where he was going. He hunted rats for his food, and there were plenty, and fought others for territory. And how he loved to fight. More often than not, he would purposefully cross into another cat's territory, just to start trouble. He was young, reckless, and a troublemaker. But it was a mere phase, and all phases come to an end.

This phase of Justo's life ended with cage, a truck, and an animal shelter. Almost as quickly as he was in the shelter, he was out, courtesy of an old Spanish couple who were moving to the UK. Justo was a mere 18 moons when he was taken from his beloved country. Probably the hardest part of the move was adjusting to weather. His short coat meant he couldn't go outside during the colder months, lest he come back with a nasty cold. Not that he complained much. He rather enjoyed his time as a kittypet, disgusting food aside. When it was warm enough, he would leave the house and hunt and fight like the old days. But the one thing that always intrigued him was the forest just outside of his home. "There are wild beasts!" or "No one ever comes back." were the only responses he got back when he questioned the other cats, at least the ones that were able to decode what he was saying through the use of broken English and charades.

It was on a particularly less than warm day, but still sustainable, that Justo felt even more drawn to the forest than usual. Giving into temptation, he hopped from his fence and cautiously crept towards the trees. It was at that moment, as if by fate, that an unfamiliar orange pelt streaked past him, followed by two considerably darker pelts. Confused and now even more curious, Justo followed silently, peering down the alley the three cats had gone down. The scene played out like the beginning of some sort of cliché superhero movie. The two villains ganging up on a poor, defenseless lady, whom the hero must rescue. However, this she-cat was neither poor, nor was she by any means defenseless. But Justo hadn't known any different.

Making sure to keep hidden, he crawled behind a nearby dumpster. Then, he started to bark. Yes, bark. Like a dog. Only he wasn't a dog. But the two instigators hadn't realized the difference. It only took two barks to scare them both off, leaving the she-cat at the mercy of the hound. With a hearty laugh, Justo squeezed out from behind his hiding spot.

"¡Bwhahahahahaha! ¡Sì, sì! ¡Ándale!"

"..."

"¿Hm? Oì, chica. ¿Estàs bien?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Ah, lo siento, I forget I am not in a country that, uh, speak my language."

"Your...language?"

And so went the first meeting of many. It wasn't long before they had learn to speak each others names, the she-cat took considerably longer because she kept pronouncing it wrong. Justo learned her name was Lilyfoot, and what a peculiar name it was. She told him of "clans" and the "warrior code" and other such strange things. He told her of Spain and traditions and all sorts of magnificent tales. It was at their third meeting, the second had been purely coincidental, that they made a deal. She would teach him English and tell him more about the clans, and he would teach her Spanish and tell her of Spanish things. The deal was made, and once a moon they would meet. Soon, once a moon became twice a moon, then every other week, then once a week, until they started meeting almost every night. Even during the cold months, Justo would brave the elements, if only to catch a glimpse of that incredibly orange pelt and passionate amber eyes. It was during once such cold night that Lilyfoot came to him with a troubled look in her eyes.

"Ah! Mi liliácea."

"Justo..."

"What is wrong? You seem displeased."

"I just finished speaking with the medicine cat..."

"The medicine cat? ¡Ay dios mio! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Huff. Why eat if you are not hungry? Why did you go to the medicine cat, if you say you are fine?"

"I needed to be sure. The medicine cat says I'm pregnant."

Ah yes, what should have been a joyous occasion, was clouded over with the possibility of punishment. Not just for Lilystep, but for Justo and the kits as well. The clan would surely keep the kits for themselves, but all kits deserved to have a father. Oh what were an expecting young couple to do?

"The answer is simple, liliácea. I will come with you."

And so the riddle was solved. He left immediately, allowing his lover to guide him across the moor and into Windclan camp. The leader was suspicious, but trusted the judgement of his warrior. At the still-young age of 24 moons, Justo had moved from another phase in his life, to settle into life as Hareleap. Lilystep was moved to nursery a few moons later. They thought they had hidden their secret meetings of the past well, but it was obvious to everyone in the clan how the former kittypet had known about the clans, and the identity of the father was certainly no riddle.

Lilystep gave birth a little after Hareleap was given his first apprentice. A little she-cat blended into her mother's fur easily, but her father's eyes gave away her position at all times. Hareleap, still somewhat stuck in the Spanish way of doing things, had wanted to give her his mother's name, Cereza, but of course that wouldn't do. So after a bit of translating, the kit was deemed Cherrykit, and all was well.

A warrior ceremony and a dead deputy later, a quickly-aging leader gives Hareleap the esteemed position of deputy. One would think the clan would be none-to-happy about a foreigner taking over, but Hareleap had become very popular among his clanmates. Between telling stories, teaching words in Spanish, and his overall loyalty, Harestar was well-liked in the clan. That's not to say nobody was unsure about his ability to lead the clan, but they kept their opinions to themselves.

It was only a few days later that Lilystep came down with a terrible sickness. The medicine cat called it greencough, and her chances of survival were grim. Despite there being a chance he could catch the sickness, Hareleap refused to leave his mate's side. At 39 moons he became a single father of a recently-made apprentice. A couple nights later the leader died of the same sickness, and Harestar emerged as the new leader of Windclan. It's worth noting that, until receiving his nine lives, Harestar had never been much of a believer in Starclan. However, it wasn't seeing all of his deceased loved ones that changed his mind. No, something else had convinced him of Starclan's existence, but he's yet to tell anyone what. It's a secret he very well may take to the grave.

Other: I don't think I'll be bringing any of my old characters here. Note for myself, Cherrypaw is now 10 moons.

[shiningheart]

Accepted!