2013-01-03

N E M E S I S
Dysis E'Tani -- xxsunlight

Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago, Dysis was a friendly, open she~cat. Now, I know it seems nearly impossible with who she is now. Her history caused her change to her polar opposite. She was born as a loner, and lived with her older brother. Dysis was a little bundle of energy, adorable and happy and lovable. But her happy life didn’t last. Her brother was killed by a rogue group, and little Dy, only 5 moons, was taken in by the leader, who recognized her beauty and potential instantly. He raised her, teaching her to be merciless and deadly. Dysis became an excellent fighter, and a cat who showed no mercy. She missed her brother greatly, but as she was taught to show little to no emotion, she never mentioned him. As custom in her group, she was paired up with a tom who became her mate when she was one year old. She had three litters with him, twelve kittens in all, but eleven of them turned out stillborn. Dysis was torn up inside, but she was fiercely protective of her surviving kit, named Hawk. She nurtured him, and showered him with love. Her mate found this disgusting, and took him away from her to train him to be deadly and emotionless. When Dysis took him back and refused to give him up again, Hawk was killed. For the first time since her training, she showed emotion. Dysis bawled her heart out, and was attacked by some of her group-mates. However, her superior fighting skills, agony, and fury came into play and she slaughtered everyone. Then, heart heavy, she buried Hawk and set off through the land. She was the perfect rogue group mate after that night. She showed no emotion, showed no fear or mercy. She slaughtered without question, and was well-known for a few miles around. Shortly before she turned 2 years of age, she found Primal Instinct. She quickly rose through power, and became a Proxy. Later the group was disbanded, but when it returned, she was reappointed to her Proxy position, then Warden, then eventually she became Nemesis of Primal Instinct. Dysis is a beauty, and it’s undeniable. Soft, medium-length fur that ripples out in different hues of orange and bright, sharp, intelligent green eyes. She’s a regular height, and a bit on the skinnier side, slim and sleek, allowing her to slip into small spaces. Her tail is long and fluffs out at the end. Her face is elegantly carved, with small features, a long muzzle. She has an air of confidence around her, because she grew more relaxed once she made acquaintances and even- gasp- friends in PI. Dysis is... complicated, to say the least. She isn’t kind, isn’t heartless. She isn’t fierce, isn’t harmless. She’s a cat who can’t be classified. It can be said she’s merciless, deadly, and skilled in fighting, and she is. It can also be said that she’s heartbroken, longing, and occasionally somewhat kind, and that’s also true. She fights with herself about who she is everyday. Her time with the rogue group made her unsure of who she is, and whether she belongs to a group at all, even if she would never betray or leave Primal Instinct.
Mate - Searching
Kits - Hawk (deceased)
Lives - 5/5

W A R D E N
Meelo -- theoretically.
All genius is a conquering of chaos and mystery. Meet Meelo. He's the feline that's lost everything he once had; his younger siblings, Ness, Opal, Pexz, Raylie and Qayzel, have all disappeared and he is left alone in Primal Instinct, a isolated male from CrowClan. He has no knowledge of where is mother, Belle, is either, and his father, Chet, is long deceased. Yet, Meelo is hardly a hollow shell of who he used to be. He still carries the solemn and serious air of a pressured and stressed feline, and remains a peacemaker. There is no great genius without a mixture of madness. When Meelo was younger, he didn't look out for love. This is yet another trait he's kept up - and it's quite a shame, since Meelo is so handsome. He has a muscular, yet lanky, frame that is bathed in cropped, but thick, hazel fur. However, what stands out the most is none other than his dark blue optics. They are enchanting and alluring, partially because of what a strange shade they are. Courage is grace under pressure.

P R O X I E S

Whitney -- Masqueradetrick
Try facing this fiery cream colored shecat. Its not wise. She has rather weird, pink colored eyes. They seem to criticize every inch of your body. Thats because Whitney is a very judgmental cat. One that will look down upon you til the end. She never seems to stop acting like a child. She is full of herself, but incredibly strong. So does she have a reason. But she never admits defeat. If you beat her, she cries like a baby, claiming that you cheated. Wow. Mature, huh? But don't look at her to badly. She is just a she cat that was raised spoiled rotten. Not her fault that everything must be gold to her. One thing she really cherishes is her beauty. She is undeniably beautiful. Gorgeous really. But in a simple, clean way. And her favorite thing in life? Gray feathers. Why? That's what her mother used to line her den with as a kit. So... here we have Whitney... a cat of spoiled rotten beauty. One put to waste. But strength isn't an absence in her.

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P R O X I E S

Nocturne -- JadeIllusion
The song of the night, depicting the image of a silent hunter, master of all that is darkness. Order is everything that defines this cat, it is order that builds the foundation of everything he believes in, and order that he continues to uphold to maintain his life. Nocturne is as loyal as can be, and everything to him must follow the rules of order and authority. Unquestioning and unchallenging to those of higher authority, he is often mistakenly seen as a mindless soldier, a pawn that only moves as commanded. However, that is not so. A cunning thinker, when given a free rein, he is a meticulous strategist, and will carry out his plans down to the last perfect detail. Those below him in terms of rank are treated equally, but his tolerance for insubordination is minimal. A stunning Bengal cat with sleek golden fur and exquisite black designs that mark him as an individual, he doesn't allow his bright pelt to get in the way of blending in during hunts and attacks, rather using it to his advantage for camouflage purposes in his own unique way. His green eyes, irises rimmed with so many different shades that it's impossible to just name a single type of green, reflects on his emotions and what he is doing at the time. Speed is his ally, whether in running, climbing, pouncing or swimming, his powerful muscles moulded for speed purposes rather than power, even with his large build. His temper is rather volatile, but only when a problem occurs that goes against his beliefs in the most extreme manner. Quick as a blink of an eye, he will not hesitate to discipline a cat disobeying orders and keeps a close eye on everyone that he works with – whether in suspicion or just to ensure that everything is done correctly. Often seen as uptight and hard to approach, he creates an air of authority that allows him to give orders that will be done, but at the same time, this outward appearance makes him seem intimidating. Although he may seem like the type of cat that is all about work and no play, there are times when you can catch him wandering out in the forest at night under the excuse that he is patrolling, running without restraint in a relaxed and playful manner. At these times, should you try and approach him, there might be some leeway to actually get to know this tom, and perhaps gain a bit more of understanding as to while he is so uptight about rules and order.

Magdalena -- finalblow.
"I'm on my own side.... It's better than being on your side." She heard those words once, and from that moment on in her life, she deemed them true. Magdalena, sometimes referred to as just Lena, is, simply put, on her own side. She doesn't fight for anyone else, only herself. She doesn't fall alliance to many. Those who she does ally herself to shouldn't be surprised when she dashes all hope they put into her. She doesn't put up with anyone any longer than needed for her to be successful. She is an independent cat, one with the values of a rogue; be self sufficient, or die. It is because she'd had to be. From the time she could feed herself, she's had to. That was because she wasn't in Primal Instinct when she was born. She was born to a she-cat who had her own brand of issues. Her mother was a crazy. Totally crazy. At first, though, she could contain it. Lena had to watch her mother deteriorate. She had to learn to hunt and feed the two of them, as the two cats switched roles. The mother became like a helpless kit, while she had to rise up. She did for several months, until one day, when she was hunting, her mother got hungry, and ate a berry from a holly bushel. When Magdalena returned, her mother was trying to expell the poison from her body, proving unsuccessful. She watched as the posion took wrath, before taking her mother's last breath. Lena was heartbroken. She was more than heartbroken, she felt it was her fault. If only she could have helped her... A crazy mother is better than no. The day after her mother's death, the she cat vowed that she'd fix what she had done, let her mother die because she wasn't sufficient enough. So, she went on a search, a search that, when given results, showed her Primal Instinct. They accepted her; she could hunt, she could fight. She just couldn't heal herself, didn't ahve that knowledge. Her quest for knowledge to fix her lack of it made her want to learn. Lena now resides in Primal Instinct, never in the mesh of things, though. She is always watching, but never really with anyone else. It comes with deciding she is her own, and she doesn't want to take responsibility for anyone else. If you crack that layer of pain, there is something inside her worth saving, a glint of something. But hiding it is easier, hiding that flicker of life is easier than facing the world by herself. Because of that, it is easy for her just to go into auto pilot. It's even easier to teach her something, as it plays with her knowledge search, and sending herself to something that isn't quite her. Magdalena is a soft-voiced she-cat, the tone never ranging into the sopranic range. It lays perfectly contented in a low murmur, altonic. Her pelt is "plain." Her fur is a dirty blonde, very near a very light brown. A dash of white lines her left shoulder, and her eyes are a faint greenish-golden.

A S S A S S I N
Kryptonite -- Emberwish
nreal.Like a shimmery reflection in the water.Toss a pebble in the water, the image becomes distorted and unclear.Does she even exist? She's just like a reflection in the water, elusive and obscure.Lurking between the shadows, a figure unseen.If fortune goes your way, you may catch a glimpse of this mysterious she-cat.All you will see is glowing pools of kryptonite green, before you black out.She is your worst nightmare, if bad fortune ever allows you to get on her kill list, she'll send you to your deathbed in a blink of an eye.You say every cat has a good side? Oh this makes me laugh, Kryptonite having a good side? That's like death berries not being venomous. She doesn't trust anyone, it seems like no cats are plausible to her.Except Katie, Katie has been the only cat who "understood" Kryptonite.How? Kryptonite came to Primal Instinct as weak, proud, stubborn cat, who seemed to have no potential at all.Katie apparently saw through her mask and brought her true potential out.She still is a very stubborn cat, and way too proud but she's still improved immensely Hm? Oh I see. You're wondering how this purely cat is different from other villains. What she craves is a child, not love if she has learned anything; love is for the weak. She yearns for a child, so should teach her to be mighty and also so she could have a real friend, not like her false parents who filled Kyprtonite's head with lies.She toys with tom's weak, gullible hearts and makes them fall prey to her claws, it gives her pleasure to see cats bow down to her.She's a nonexistent goddess of pandemonium, chaotic and skilled in fighting.She has a pelt of black deeper than death, and eyes of Kryptonite.Never underestimate this cat, or she will be your demise.

A S S A S S I N S U C C E S S O R S

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A S S A S S I N S U C C E S S O R S

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S H A M A N
Indy -- Friesian
Don't test what you can not beat. Brilliant wouldn't even sum up a fraction of this Lethal she-cat. Not large nor all that intimidating at first sight. But rather beautiful and angelic. Most would be fooled. Indy is quite the backstabber. Analyzing you at first meeting memorizing your weaknesses and quarks She never misses a detail. Indigo eyes deep and enticing like the Circassian sea. If you have ever stepped into Primal Instinct she had you memorized from the inside out. Black. Forest Black like the night and Black like her very heart Indy has a Onyx raven pelt that even the moon can't reflect off of. A tail that fans behind her like her shadow she carries the scent of prim roses and the summer breeze. Hatred and Disdain has never had an image quite like this. But don't be afraid... yet. She is a fair she-cat with an opinion like any other. She values yours and will take time to listen and ponder but in the end she always goes with her own instincts. So stay on her good side and don't get in her way... you might see light at least one last time. But keep in mind this darling of a wild heart cat is skilled in more than leadership and seduction, after the fire that devastated Primal Instinct Indy's daughter Diane went missing. She hunted the forest and killed loner, kittypets, and rouges for any scrap of information she could get. She met the wolf that took out her heart and now lives with the regret of not being able to revenge her daughters death. She got mauled but nursed herself to health with some help of VenomClan. She then joined her only full sister Katie to rebuild Primal Instinct.
Mate {{ None }}
Kits {{ Ella }}

M A G E

Ella -- nzanegurl
If you want mystery, you have it. Ella is great at keeping secrets, even though its not always the best decision. She cares for her own and refuses to lend help to those who oppose her league. She has the highest respects for those who rank above her, and would do nothing to sacrifice that. With her jet black fur and keen amber eyes, it isn't difficult to move through the shadows without being seen. She never boasts about what she knows and in every way tries to spread her knowledge throughout her fellow cats. Se has a short stubby tail from when she was just a newborn and her mother tried to carry her by the tail. Maybe others THINK that they can get buy her but she's actually very observant. So basically, she is a normal member of Primal Instinct, except for her intense patience and herb know-how. And just like her leaguemates, she would give his life for any Primal Instinct cat. Anytime, anywhere.

H U N T E R S
Calypso -- .:FantasyRose:.
Toasted cinnamon flakes sprinkle hazel-colored strands of fur, a glossy golden sheen creating intricate chestnut lines up and down her slender frame. An alabaster mask weaves around her prominent muzzle, dipping down to her long, regal neck, and over her pointed ears. Speckles of ebony black splatter her rich, honeydew coat with lavish designs, unique swirls and patterns diverged among the dappled array of many paints. Her paws seemed to have been dipped in the substance of cream, the tip of her tail joining in at the artist at work. She bears eyes of the a sun-hued pigment, flecks of ashen-grey buried among the sinister gleam. For someone with so much color, her personality is a bit bland. Calypso, meaning 'she who hides', had never been a feline to coheres with others. Usually a loner, this narrow-minded she-cat thinks for her own rather than those who surround her. Calypso, being the independent cat she is, has no problem surviving by her own determined will. Although some classify her as an outsider, the chocolate-brown female has a way with dealing with incompetent fools like those. She simply ignores. Calypso doesn't tolerate disrespect, coping with things by calmly addressing the situation. One wouldn't ever see Calypso raise her voice, but when she does - one will know just how infuriated she's become. An exquisite fighter, this coco-furred feline has deadly claws, a sharp bite, and no guilt to compensate. Relying completely on Instict and good judgement, Calypso makes the calls from where she stands. One wouldn't necessarily make the assumption that she is a coldhearted cat, perhaps misunderstood and a bit quiet, but not mean to the common acquaintance. It's only the feral, rude, and petty ones that rile her up to the point of unkindly gestures. Calypso's optics are like mirrors - reflecting only the world around her. When she puts up that gaurded expression, it's nearly impossible to decipher what she is thinking. She sees this characteristic as an advantage, her enemies never knowing her weaknesses or downfalls. Calypso doesn't let any cat phase or sway her future of success, only wanting to make herself an honorable; respectable cat who will fight with tooth and claw for what she seems right.

Scythe -- Silverclaw101
Brown eyes flash in the darkness. A shadow of red and the glint of claws are the last things you see. Scythe sits down beside you, licking her blood stained claws, seeming to not even care about the limp form of a cat beside her. You don't know her name, but yet, it seems... familiar. Poor Scythe, never had the chance to become a star. Primal Instinct was forced to leave the grounds of all of the clans and groups just a couple of moons after she became a proxy. And she hated every second of it. Hated it with a passion. Why, you ask? There is no real answer to that question. For some reason she was just... attached to those old hunting grounds. So she left Primal Instinct, wandering and roaming until she found her way back. But of course there was nothing left for her. A new clan would have to be found. So she found a clan. Venomclan. The closest thing to Primal Instinct she could find. The ruthlessness, the bloodlust, it all overjoyed Scythe. Almost as good as her league. It wasn't as if she had had any friends there. So now she is Scythe, gladiator of Venomclan. Not Scythe, Proxy of Primal Instinct. But that was okay. She would rise, eventually. The story doesn't end here, however. Katie brought them back. She brought the Primal Instinct cats back, and somehow persuaded even Scythe, who was now feeling a touch of loyalty to Venomclan. But she returned, ready to make her league become strong once more. Now for how an innocent kitten became a the ruthless she cat she is today. Scythe started out as a rogue, named, well, Scythe. Her thirst for battle forced her to wander great distances in search for opponents. Her lithe form gives away nothing about this ruthless bloodthirsty she-cat. She was named well. That was all her no good parents did for her before they dumped her. They named her.A simple name. But effective. Scythe vowed to have revenge on her parents. Unlikely, you may think, a cat this young already yearning for revenge. But she got her revenge. And as her parents lay dead before her, she pondered on her next move. As she had searched for her parents, she had developed a knack for fighting, a skill that she cherished. She decided to find someone worthy to fight, and maybe someone who would teach her moves that she had never seen before. She found both of those things within Primal Instinct. She was taught techniques and styles, and she found opponents in all of the other groups of cats. Primal Instinct was one of the only groups that she could join were her fighting abilities and blood lust wouldn't be frowned upon. In Primal Instinct, they were even prized. She had found were she belonged, if she could belong anywhere. But it wasn't enough. Leaving the league was a critical choice, a huge choice, and she still doesn't know if it was the right one. But the rogue inside of her will always make a living no matter what, and right then, that living was Venomclan. Though the word Strategos did not slip off of her tongue so smoothly, she learned. And now she'll learn to rebuild the league from the ashes. Adopt, adapt, and improve. The motto of a ruthless she-cat, quick and clever. The motto of Scythe.

Veece -- Spottedfire54
How does the ugliest of sand turn into the most majestic pearl? No one truly know, but some say the same metamorphasis takes place within cats as well. Her now plush caramel fur was once the ugliest shade of brown, like the mud at the bottom of a puddle. The now bright zaffre orbs placed upon her sculpted face were once a clouded blue, plain and simple. Once upon a time she was kind, affable, and civil around other while trying her hardest to please anyone she met. Others started to manipulate her, tricking her into doing their duties and one day she met someone who told her the truth, someone who told her how they were deluding her. Outraged, she began to ignore their requests. After a period of time she became cold, impatient, rash, and stingy. Others learned to not mess with her, and she prefferred it that way. Becoming independant, both her appearance and personality changed. As did her intentions. She began to travel, training herself to become her own type of assassin. Never has she killed a cat, though if it comes to it she would be the first one to make a kill. Now, she prefers to be known as Vee instead of Veece, almost as if she hoped that changing her name would change her past. At times she can be benevolent, but usually it is because she owes someone something or she is trying to keep out of trouble. One thing- stay out of Vee's way and don't try decieving her, because she learned her lesson a long time ago and won't hesitate to slit a throat in three seconds flat. A dangerous huntress, she can track down something with ease but she isn't the best hunter. Once a speck of dirt, now a shining pearl, this is Vee.

Montezuma -- Naturecat
Tall and slender, a pale, cream-coloured tom with turquoise eyes and distinctive black markings around eyes. No one truly knows the truth about Montezuma. It is rumored that he came from an unknown land, far away, and journeyed here because of what he had heard about the group of cats known as Primal Instinct. When he was first discovered, many cats were shocked by his foreign appearance. His slender tail was longer than any cat's they've ever seen, and his eyes were an unusual blue colour. Not the mention very few cats had distinct black markings around the eyes. This tom said foreign all over, from his accent to his beliefs. Nevertheless Montezuma proved to be a skilled fighter, after having been attacked by the group that found him. He beat them all, and earned enough respect to be taken to the head of Primal Instinct to be accepted into the clan. Montezuma accepted the offer with silent dignity and assumed his place as a hunter. While the Primal Instinct cats dwelled in the evils of the Dark Forest and dreamed of conquering the other clans, Montezuma went even further, finding various dark caves to hide in and pray to his ancestors. He was an unusual tom, giving sacrifices to unknown beings and speaking of a dark place where he hoped his spirit would go during the afterlife. Afterlife. A term commonly used by Montezuma. He stays away from the others most of the time, and yearns to return to his homeland one last time, but loyalty to Primal Instinct gradually grew stronger until at last he truly became a part of them. Montezuma is known as a skilled fighter, who confuses his opponents with foreign battle moves and uses his slender body to his advantage, slipping between enemies and dodging blows with ease. His long tail enables him to navigate through the trees with ease. Montezuma is very fond of eagles and hawks, and can sometimes be found staring up into the sky at one of the deadly raptors with a look of admiration and wonder in his eyes. When cats ask him of his fondness for those particular birds of prey, Montezuma tells them that those birds symbolize strength and freedom in his eyes. Thus in a way the two birds became associated with him. At first, it seemed that Montezuma had no existing relatives at the time, but this is not true, for he has a son, Aztec, whom Montezuma is proud of. Aztec, being his only son, is his pride and joy, and Montezuma is always trying to keep Aztec safe. Aztec joined Primal Instinct moons after Montezuma. He was a kit when his father left to the foreign lands. Now Montezuma can be reunited with his long-forgotten kin. Montezuma's mate had passed, and he is not sure if he wants to find love again. Darkness seems more important to him, and he often finds himself hiding from the friendly warmth of the sun's rays. After dwelling in caves for some time, Montezuma developed an interest in the shiny rocks he would sometimes find there. He is fascinated by it's golden glow and the light it gives off when the sun hits it, an ironic interest seeing as he rejects the sun itself. Montezuma may have the savage heart of a Primal Instinct cat, and may crave the blood of his enemies, but mostly he is a misunderstood cat with knowledge that no other feline has heard of thought of. He just needs to be given the chance to display his personalities and spill out his secrets to one who feels the pang of curiosity.

Aztec -- Naturecat
Rain pattered down on the cold, hard stone, and thunder rolled in the sky. A flash of lightning, and a faint outline of a cat could be seen in the distance. The cat was running. Another flash of lightning and it was gone. Who was this tom? There is only one name for him: Aztec. The sinister tom came from a distant land, far from the ones that Primal Instinct are familiar with today. He was born to a tribe of cats who ran their life in a very foriegn manner. Aztec was born to a beautiful she-cat named Joya who died when he was a young cat. Aztec was always considered to be handsome even today. His coat is of a dark, gray, almost silvery blue colour, with tourqouise eyes, like his father, so his mother told him, and a long, slender tail. Aztec never met his father until later on in his life, but he was always told that he was a great and well-respected cat by the name of Moctezuma. He wears a collar of small, blue stones that his father supposedly used to wear, and around one foreleg, the right one, was a thin circlet of gold. So life went on, and Aztec became a young adult, and he began to wander farther and farther from home. For some reason he felt himself being called to a distant land, and the urge to answer the call became too immense. Aztec no longer felt at home. His mother had passed, and dark thoughts began to cloud his young mind. He found a taste for cat blood to be overpowering, and he enjoyed making sacrifices to his ancestors. The time came for Aztec when he felt he should leave his homeland all together. And he did. Aztec traveled many miles, through mysterious forests to dark, misty swamps until he came across the land of Primal Instinct. It was a thunderous night, too, very dark with no moon to guide him. Water splashed on the moist earth, and a trail of pawprints formed behind Aztec as he ran. But one pawstep across the scent line of the murderous clan and he was jumped on by a large, pale tom-cat. The two wrestled in the dirt until Aztec began to notice that the had the same coloured eyes and dark markings around the eyes. It was Montezuma, his father. Montezuma recognized him and displayed a show of affection for his long lost son. Aztec was in wonder as he set eyes upon his father. They shared many characteristics and had the same dark personalities. Montezuma introduced him to Primal Instinct, and no one doubted that he would be as good of a fighter as his father. And thus Aztec began his new life amongst the power-hungry cats under the leadership of the Commander. Aztec's demeanor eventually became more intense, as Primal Instinct awakened his power-hungry spirit even more. Never had Aztec felt more at home than in Primal Instinct. Unlike his father, Aztec no longer yearns to return to the homeland, for there are too many dark memories, and some of his deepest secrets are buried there. Underneath the earth, in a deep cave which fills with water during showers, the skeleton of the one cat Aztec hated the most will lie until the end of time. His thirst for power and revenge overcomes him often, and he often has time for the company of others, until, of course, the she-cat of his dreams catches his eye. Blood is spilled over the pages of his history, a deep and dark story, that can only end one way: disastrous.

Kyo -- Masqueradetrick
Life isn't something to be taken lightly. He reminds others this very often. But Kyo doesn't just know this by common sense... he knows it from his own life. Full of twists, turns, and heartbreak, he knows what its like to be beaten down and left to wallow in shame. In his beginning life, Kyo was the only cat out of his litter to show a flamey orange pelt and crimson eyes. His mother knew he belonged to a family of cats that belived a curse followed them. She shunned Kyo, driving him away from his siblings. Kyo's father died of a horrid torture, which lead Kyo to believe the family curse was true. He slowly became less friendly, a heart hardened. It was said, by his crazy family, that a cat of a fire pelt would destroy them. They hated him. They wanted him dead. But the head of their family kept him around, figuring he could use Kyo to his advantage. But as he grew, the hate in his heart became stronger and more fierce. He soon met his cousin... named Yuki. Yuki was a quiet cat, gray in color with bright purple eyes. He was perfect in the eyes of his family. Everybody loved Yuki. Worshiped him even. Kyo was jealous of him. He was hated... while Yuki was loved. Any cat would be droven crazy by that. Kyo kept growing.... becoming a strong cat. Only one cat in his family's circle loved him. That cat taught him to focus his anger into learning how to fight. He knew Kyo would need it. So Kyo was trained with well sharpened claws and long fangs. He was relishing in the attention of being the best fighter in the family. But that ended when Yuki started to train... and he became better. Kyo eventually went to live on his own. Along his solitary life, he trained more. He wanted to beat Yuki. And as he went to fight him when he was ready, he felt that something important was to happen. And he was right. However, it was a big shock to him. Yuki and a very pretty, homeless she cat. Yuki and their older cousin had taken her in out of the kindness of their hearts. Her name was Tohru. She was a ditzy, but very soft and kind cat. Kyo tried to fight Yuki, but he couldn't make himself look like a savage in front of her. He lost. Time went on, and the head of their family didn't like Tohru around. She was to be killed. Kyo and Yuki tried to team up and run away with her to somewhere safe, but they lost her in the end. Kyo and Yuki however kept running. They came to Primal Instinct on accident. However, they were saw as useful. Kyo became an instant star, where as Yuki was saw as soft. It was great. Kyo eventually became friends with Yuki and gained a spot as an Assassin. He had even a mate and kits. But drama chased him even there. Tohru was said to be alive. Yuki left to find her. Kyo however loved his position and stayed put, letting his cousin search for her. He soon became a Proxy, and finally Warden. But before the spot of Nemesis came to his possession, he ran. His heart was hurt. He needed to get away. But he came back eventually... claiming his spot as a Proxy. Kyo is a strong fighter for his group. Loyal and brave. He can be very ruthless in a battle, making him a key to a successful total win. But he does have a loving spot in his heart, waiting for that special cat in his life to once again be there for thim.

Morte -- Masqueradetrick
The petite morte. Little death. He may seem to be just only that. With pitch black fur, haunting yellow eyes, and small features he seems like a new born panther cub. He can't help but seem a little strange to those around him. He has a tendency to speak in a strange tongue, for nobody can really understand what he is saying. That is due to the fact he can speak in French. He knows how to speak it from his mother, a twolegs cat who was raised in France. When her owners moved, she had to learn English. So she taught her son and daughter, whos name is Bianca. Morte's name originally wasn't Morte. He will not even say his old name. Morte is tough in his eyes, the meaning being death. La Petite Morte. The little death.

Bianca -- Masqueradetrick
A cute little she cat purring and sitting there all alone. This is Bianca. She is very pleased to meet you. Her silver tabby fur sparkles in the sun, and so do her bright green orbs that are in place of her eyes. She is not your average Primal Instinct cat. She is very much the opposite. She is gentle and kind, far from being a killer. She is only here because she loves her brother Morte way to much to leave him alone in such a rough place. She is a very talented cat though, so nobody complains about having her around. She is able to speak French, which she gained from her mother. English she prefers thoughs, since everyone understands it. She can be a little to annoying though, sometimes switching languages in mid sentence purely on accident. But either way, she works hard to please her group, but mostly her dear brother.

Salviatar -- JadeIllusion
Legacies forgotten, bloodlines lost. A darkness with a stubborn glow within, struggling against the obstacles of life to hold a place in the world. It isn't hope that this tom represents, it's a flickering lifeline, a symbol of constant struggle to stay above everything that threatens to pull him under. Smouldering yellow eyes shift between a bright, cheerful yellow to a dark, hardened amber, depending on his ever-shifting mood. A mass of long, sleek black fur, he has the ability to melt into the shadows - when he finds the need to. Unfortunately, that is never the case with Salviatar. Bold, confident, and surrounding himself in an air of apparent authority, he makes it known that he sees himself as a worthy contribution to the group. Ambitious as a kit, he had worked himself harder than any others upon his promotion to a trainee, pushing himself to be worthy of the title as first born son of Metra E'tani, the first leader of Primal Instinct. It had been his wish for many moons to achieve the very position his mother held, and his ambition had been the source of his weakness during that period. Flaunting a superior air about him, he had been harsh and uncaring to all cats around him. As he matured, however, he began seeing the world differently, settling for the title of one of the great hunters of the group instead of striving towards higher ranks. His meeting with other cats that gradually shaped into close friendships was a significant contribution to his change in ideals. After the disappearance of the second leader, Seraphiel, he too, left Primal Instinct on a whim, feeling as though if he went out and explored the other parts of the world, he would come back to share of his adventures and bring the group to glory. That dream, however, was crushed when he heard of the destruction and disbandment of Primal Instinct. Devastated, he stayed away, choosing his life as a wanderer over returning to what remained of his home. Until he received word that a cat had stepped up to rebuild the group. Hooked by the temptation that he might be able to return to the home that he had once abandoned, he returned, only to find that said cat was none other than his close friend, Katie. Close was an understatement, but the only word he was able to use, knowing that it was next to impossible to regain what they had shared in the past. Now he was back within the ranks of Primal Instinct, with a new determination to help bring the group back to its former glory. Still as confident as ever, though he is more conscious of the feelings of others, he still cannot help his sarcastic comments and unnecessary joking and teasing. A powerful fighter, he is formidable in battle, using his large size and honed attack skills to his advantage. Although no longer as eager to do battle as he had been as a trainee, he still cannot pass up the thrill he gets from being in a fight, and is usually first to sign up for an attack patrol. In terms of hunting, he prefers staying on ground, finding that with his sturdy muscles and powerful hind legs, it makes it easy to make large leaps to secure fleeing prey. It can be argued that he could also spring upwards in catching prey that takes to the air or higher ground, but he is stubborn, insisting that his hunting skills were limited to things that remained flightless. Decisions like those are easy for him to make – once he’s decided on something, it stays that way. His stubbornness is something that he’s proud of, and there are very few cats that can get him to change his mind about things. Often, more so than not, he finds himself in trouble with authority. He no longer has any trouble in paying his respects, but there are cases where he will adamantly disagree with a decision that has been made, and he will not hesitant in making his thoughts public. It is all these things that make him loyal to his group, even if others don’t think so. He feels that it was a mistake to have left all those moons ago, and it’s his regret that first kept him anchored on the decision that he would stay here until the very end.

Asher -- xx.sapphire
You know Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen... Well there's an addition to that equation, and it is the polar opposite of fun-loving reindeer. This tom is ruthless when it comes to anything involving violence, whether it be fighting or killing. He's a quick and silent murderer, never being one for having a soft spot or mercy. He isn't picky about his victims, anything that moves, pretty much. It is hard for a she-cat to ignore his handsome grey pelt, flecked with darker shades, his piercing amber eyes, and most of all, his cocky attitude. Most would call him arrogant and big-headed, which he is a bit narcissistic. He's an enviable figure in Primal Instinct, but all in all, he is a fun-loving tom. Not mossball kind of fun, but fun as in playing mind games. He is truely a master manipulator, able to seduce anyone he meets into doing his bidding. Some cats catch on but are lost immediately after they join the wild ride.

Blaire -- xx.sapphire
Fire is a dangerous thing. It is known and feared by all cats of the land, just like Blaire. Her pelt consists of a unique array of golds, gingers, reds, and yellows. Her eyes are honeydrip golden, always having that sharp and dangerous look to them. She is always on her guard, always ready to lash out with stinging claws and curved fangs. She listens to nobody, with the exception of her superiors. Nobody knows why she is so defensive all the time - she is an isolated beauty. She enjoys solitude. Blaire had a tough life. She grew up on the backside of her mother, who babied and took care of her. Naturally, she wanted to stick with the easy life, with her loving and nurturing mother. So she did. And that was when she abandoned her - just like that. No warning. Blaire just woke up one day and was left alone. She waited for days for her to return, to no avail. Blaire was in for a real wake-up call, for all her life, everything had been done for her. Everything. She didn't know about territories, she didn't know how to hunt, she didn't know how to survive. So she joined Primal Instinct, and learned how to not only survive, but thrive. She soon perfected her skills. She refuses to get close to any cat in fear that they would abandon her, just like her mother.

Nightmare -- xxsunlight
Nightmare. The name is suiting for the brother of the deadly cat Dysis. He was born a year before her, making him three years old now. He has been hardened by years on his own, facing pain at every step. See, Nightmare was born with the name of Stallion, with his silky white pelt and gentle green eyes. Then, when he was little over a year old- mind you, he was busy raising little Dysis at this point, he was brutally attacked by a group of rogues. They flayed him to within an inch of his life and left him to die. But he didn’t. He lay in agonizing pain until an older tom cat found him and healed him. Nightmare was cursed with a limp for a year, and fought hard to get back to full health. The attack changed him greatly. Like his sister, he went from open and friendly to cold, calculating, and isolated. He found Primal Instinct shortly after his sister and her ex-mate did. He’s still very protective of Dysis, and loves her, even if affection rarely finds it’s way out of him. He is quite handsome, with his snowy fur and piercing green eyes, broad and strong build, and stoic appearance and demeanor. He’s closed-off, letting very little cats in, and hiding from the world like that’ll solve his problems. He’s a deadly fighter, but not as fast as Dysis.

Quill -- xxsunlight
When you first see Quill, you think of the word harmless. Possibly it’s the deceptive flirtatiousness about him, or his soft brown coat, fluffed out slightly, and his blue eyes that gleam in the right light. He looks harmless, sure, but he’s not. He’s as deadly as Dysis. They’re evenly matched, as they’ve had the same training. They grew up in the same rogue groups, and were once mates. But her love for him has been replaced by cold hate, because he had killed their one kit that lived past birth. Hawk. He regrets it now, and wants to get Dysis back, but she swore to him she’d never let him back in her heart, even if he has changed from the cold, emotionless rogue he once was. He wishes he hadn’t killed their kit, and wishes for once his life would be okay. Dysis almost killed him after he murdered Hawk. She believed he was dead for moons after she attacked him, but he came to Primal Instinct in search of his ex-mate. He found her, in her position of Proxy and thriving. He accepts know that Dysis will never love him again, and has moved on, even if he does make attempts to get her back.

Ari -- ArizonaTea
His eyes are an unforgiving shade of sapphire green, contrasting brilliantly with his shaggy red pelt. Flecks of black invade the otherwise sheer color, accumulating at the corner of his lips and slightly up his cheeks, giving the illusion of an unnatural smile. Ari's eyes are as mad as his grin, and he enjoys poking fun and sarcasm to the sides of other's. A clever tongue, he has, and persuasive skills are often at paw for this tom. Though he doesn't seem to be the kind to take situations seriously, Ari can shake off his joker's mask at the flick of a tail. He has a violent and angry side, though he does well in hiding it with humor, and he doesn't often back down. He has utter confidence in himself, and yet the patience to hold back and strike at the moment that would do him best. Though he can be alittle.. well, mad- Ari isn't rash in his actions. Life is like a game to him, and he is not quick to fall into the position of a pawn. Complicated, is he? Only if you're attempting to reach into his inner thoughts and intentions. He tells it how it is, with alittle extra hidden away where no soul could seek it.

Volt -- Valiance.
A gray, white, and black tabby tom. His paws flecked with black dots, his chest: white. His coat smells of pine needles and tree bark, fresh. A distinct smell that crawls under your nose like a new inhale of life. Instantly, you'd know who was creeping up beside you. His body is slim, not too built up on muscle. Some might even mistake him for a she-cat at a distance, considering how pretty and lithe his features seem. His voice would change your doubt, although his voice alone is also very admirable. When he speaks, his voice flows like velvet. As sweet as honey, the sound of butterfly wings flapping in a summer breeze. Volt is a cat that can stand for himself, yet he isn't one known for raising his voice. At all. He's more of a mellow cat, yet he wouldn't run from a fight if it was presented to him. He's no coward. This tom will do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. Volt normally isn't the cat to start fights, but in some cases that fact could easily differ. He's not afraid of bloodshed, of death. In fact he might even be curious as to what his own death would be like. Yes, he's sadistic. But in his own way, he sees no problem with it. At times he can be a bit arrogant and naive, but that's only common for his age. Volt is a young tom, and in his lifetime he has seen more than his fair share of deaths and brutalities, has gone through much more crisis and oppression. Those lessons of heartache have given him the power to better himself for his own benefit, and some would even say that he was a bit selfish, that he's a bit coy and skittish, even.

Vixen -- Valiance.
A ginger tabby she-cat with bright ivy eyes. You might want to keep your distance from this cat; she's one sly fox with more than enough tricks up her sleeve. She's clever, sly, sneaky, and beautiful. Her body structure is lithe, and her weight is relatively light. Naturally, this makes her agile and quick on her feet. These characteristics make her no easy opponent, and may you realize that for your own sake.

Limavady -- Valiance.
Hazel eyes, splattered pelt. Calico. He's sinister; sly. He's got that type of an alley cat vibe to him. Musky. Frail. There's no doubt about it. He came from the city's streets, trained by the paws of cats who belonged to no one, and those who had nothing to them that belonged. He was born and raised in the sewers, feasting on rats and crow-food found on the sides of thunderpaths. He's the best of the best when it comes to being street-smart. It's a question to why he decided to come to the forest. He's a poor hunter and an obnoxious spy within the brambles and trees. But if only some know of his background, of the dark memories that toughen your skin and sharpen your claws.. Only then would they know why he came to the forest to find a better home. A better way of life. Maybe he didn't find the correct place to reside within this group, but he liked their security. Sure; being around tough, brutal killing machines wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it sure was the safest place to be once his former companions came looking for his head on a silver platter. After what he did to them, the streets were obviously no longer safe to walk. He doesn't intend to stay with his clan/group for long. In fact, once the opportunity arises, he'll ditch them for a better place to go. Yet, despite his selfish intentions, he's virtually a kind cat. An optimist. A keeper. A long lasting friend, if only someone would put forth the time. He's surely the kind of cat you'd like to have around in case you had a run-in with a couple of dogs.

Chicago -- theoretically.
She's not your standard Primal Instinct feline - no, she's something different. You can tell, almost instantly, when you look at her that Chicago is special. Her petite frame is only a smudge larger than a kitten's, and gently smothering it is fluffy calico fur. Splashes of warm russet, snowy white, and dusted ebony dot her pelt - similar to the way an artist will throw paint onto a smooth, clean canvas without a care in the world. But, look! The artist did think about one thing when he was painting - the centerpiece, the thing everyone looks at . . . Chicago's eyes. They are a brilliant teal color primarily, spotted with flecks of periwinkle and midnight blue. Precision and thought lie in her optics, and they tell the truth to the whole world - even if Chicago doesn't want them to. Wisdom shows up in those honest orbs, and they negate any thought that Chicago just might be a kitten. For, not only do her eyes tell the truth, but she herself does when it comes to that. There's something about the way that she speaks - with such unbelievable eloquence and careful choice of words - that make you understand. That Chicago is not only smart, but that she's once in a lifetime - and you better hold onto her tight.

Scarlet -- VividTemptation
A she-cat whose been through more things than one should bare. She used to have a mate, and kits, all were killed by mysterious causes, so she says. She's been on her own ever since she was a kitten. She's a tough black cat, with scars to prove it, though she's beautiful.Her eyes have a red tint to them ever since she was born, though they are blue. Don't ever get on this she-cats bad side, I would feel bad if you did. Her motto is if I like you, your cool, if I don't...your dead.

Soul -- GdOl'FashinNitemare
A light tabby she-cat with piercing orange eyes that are mesmerizing and mysterious. She is a calm and collected girl that seems to know exactly how someone is feeling, no matter how well they hide it. She can control her anger very well and knows how to channel it into something productive like fighting off intruders. She does not talk much and very rarely will you ever hear her talk. She usually nods or shakes her head in response and instead of talking, acts. She can be shy but she does enjoy being in the company of others, even if they can be a tad overbearing.

Felicity -- Masqueradetrick
There is a whisper in your ear. Everything inside you tells you to find the voice. It sounded welcoming and like it could protect you from the harsh forest. But let me tell you, this cat is far from safe. Her are two different colors, one being blue the other crimson. She is flame orange, with black spots over her eye, front left paw, right side, and tail tip. She looks to strange to even been real. But she is, and you can find that out if you're not to careful. She has special trait that draws in even the most smart cat to her deadly grasp. She is the grand daughter of Ebony and Kyo. A Shaman and Warden who no longer hold their positions. She doesn't exactly have respect for anyone though, due to her being used to getting everything she wants. Though she loves her father a lot, she doesn't respect his decision in giving up the Nemesis position twice. But she does want the spot for herself. Life is something th

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