Quill

[attr="class","arrgenMAINTEXT"]Having been accustomed to the life of a domesticated pet, Quill relished in her pampered ways. It afforded her certain freedoms and favors. The cat was doted upon from the day she was brought home as a kit, purchased from a well-known breeder. To her, life had no consequences. No rules. No dangers.



Her carefree youth made her bold and daring. Quinn regularly tested the borders and devised new tricks to keep herself entertained. This mindset followed her into adulthood, and the she-cat does not hesitate to take action by word or claw. She is swift to show favor or disdain and thinks little of the opinions of her peers. The cat enjoys challenges and games, but is seldom good at losing. She thrives upon feats of strength and wit. In her meager social circle of outdoor kittypets and strays, she's earned a jaded reputation for being two-faced and devious. But truly, it's a small price to pay for being this good.



Quill prides herself for both her looks and prowess, and doesn't take well to chiding remarks or goads. She's quick to defend herself, and prefers to be respected and feared rather than well-liked.

[attr="class","arrgenMAINTEXT"]Born to a high-class kittypet queen, Quill was purchased at a young age by a wealthy twoleg family of two. Content to lounge within their affection, the kitten thrived in her cushy environment of monogrammed pillows and designer toys. As she grew, the cat learned the habits of man. She excelled at getting into the tightest of cereal boxes and scaling the flat walls of the fridge. Her world was her playground, and every interest became a game. Her claws swiftly found the guppies swimming in the aquarium tank. Her favorite TV show was law and order (since that's all these two twolegs ever cared to screen). And her favorite snack was the bag of loaf bread she'd just stolen, along with whatever drink she could fling off the counter with a tap of her paw. Quill even mastered the art of streaking through the house at 2 am screaming the songs of her people.


Given her strong spirit, her twoleg home seemed small after she'd aged nearly 20 moons. Perhaps the girl simply had a little too much of the wild in her roots, as she eventually found herself darting through a cracked door and out into the back gardens of her home. Creeping through the landscaped brush that lined their back patio, the feline's amber eyes grew wide with curiosity. The garden held the largest plants she'd ever seen beneath the moon's pale glow. The thrill of adventure filled her fur. Despite the frantic calls of her doting twolegs, Quill never returned to the tile floors and cushy carpets of captivity.



But she did not forget the sensation of being doted upon. Worshipped.



As she roamed the neighborhood, the red Somali cat came across a couple of outdoor cats. After a short spell of about 2 moons, she befriended an old pair of males long enough for them to teach her how to clumsily hunt mice. A bloody task, Quill found she enjoyed the taste of warm meats to the cool mushy dinners and hard kibbles of her past life. Blood was. Delicious. Like most tasks the feline tried, she grew to become an adequate hunter within a short amount of time. Capable of feeding herself, her mettle was challenged when a fellow scrawny she-cat attempted to steal herself a meal. The fight was. Delicious.



Victorious, Quill's ego soared. Her opponent did not fair well, but managed to limp to relative safety. Her friends, the two tomcats Sam and Boone, congratulated the young cat on her defensive skills, unsuspecting of the fire they stoked. Soon, the young she-cat had learned the fence lines of her claimed domain with the same ease and bold curiosity that she had used to investigate her twoleg's home. Confidence growing, the Somali reigned the quiet little subdivision. She was not afraid to challenge any creature that approached her (and only twice did a dog drive her up a tree). Fellow felines gave the red Somali her distance, respectfully, lest they lose an ear (a favored punishment) or sport some other new scar. She grew fairly close to Boone during this time, and the male was known for his stories of clans and fabled cats with nine lives.



Curious of such power longevity, the she-cat determined to find the truth for herself. While keeping her inner compass in tune to her original homeland of the twoleg place, Quill set her paws towards the forest. As she traveled, she heard whispers of a strong tom- Emberstar. What a funny name, but apparently he'd been strong and devious... And his wild followers sing promises of violence and vengeance. My, what a fun game to play~