Curl

Curl is a larger-than-average pale ginger tom with strange, curly fur, a kinked tail, and dull amber eyes.

## Personality

While not the handsomest tom, Curl acts as if he is. He has enough confidence for a whole Clan worth of cats, and has a habit of flirting with cats just for the fun of it, hence giving himself a reputation as a player. He's a victim of mood swings, acting happy and carefree one moment but angry and aggravated the next. He also hates his curly fur, hating that it's the trait he was named after rather than his fur color or his eyes. Self-conscious and with a low self-esteem, Curl feels his emotions deep and has trouble dealing with them at times, but always keeps up his confident front. He's practically an empath, knowing when a cat is feeling sad or down even when they're masking it and sitting down to talk with a cat that needs it for hours, if need be. He tends to follow his intuition rather than anything else. Generally, he's a cat that refuses to let go of his stance of stop an argument when he's wrong - you know when you realize you're wrong, but you keep arguing anyways because you don't want to lose? That's him. He's horrible at insults, and he knows that he is, but that won't stop him from trying - most of the time, he isn't even completely sure what he's saying, but he decides to roll with it anyways, because what's the worst that can happen? Curl is a dry-paw, hating getting his fur wet and disliking the feeling of water on his pelt and skin and hates having to groom it out even more, but he'll definetly use it to his advantage in a fight if he has to. He's a strong and strategic fighter, his best thoughts coming out in battle plans or something of the like rather than in interactions with his friends, where he'll keep up his confident front. He also tends to be very defensive of the cats close to him - not necessarily protective, but he won't put up with any cat messing with the cats he cares about, and if he doesn't trust a cat he won't even bother to pretend that he does. He's happy to joke around and act like an immature apprentice when he can, and the most used word in his vocabulary is most likely "awesome".

## History

Curl's mother died when he was young as she was giving birth to his younger brother, making his father become a cold and uncaring cat. He began training him in battle too early, expecting him to become a strong and capable fighter despite his young age. Curl put up with it, because if he didn't, then he was sure that his father would have shifted his attention to his brother. His father also didn't care much about raising his second kit, making Curl act as both mother and father to take care of Wind. As his father expected of him, he did end up becoming a strong warrior. His father died once he started training Wind, something that he has always been grateful for, as he got the chance to train his brother in a much calmer fashion than the way he was trained. While he still cares about his brother and visits him often, they don't live together anymore.

## Long Posts

### fight for curleo fluff

Curl padded forwards, his eyes narrowed and fur fluffed up against what was hopefully the last of the leafbare chill.  He took in a deep breath through his jaws, searching for any prey scents and disappointed to find himself downwind. His ears twitched as he stepped on a twig, wincing at the loud snapping sound it made and nearly jumping as a bird nearby leapt into the air, its wings flapping as it flew away as fast as it could.  He hadn’t thought that there were any birds still around - aside for the one that Cleopatra had managed to catch last time he had seen her - but he supposed it was warmer here than it was in other places.

He blinked at the sound of a growl, watching as a small and long-furred she-cat stormed out of the undergrowth and approached him.  She had an angry look on her face, her ears pinned against her head, and her lips were peeled back to reveal sharp teeth. “You scared off my catch!” she growled, her gray-tipped tail lashing angrily behind her.

Curl narrowed his eyes, instantly defensive.  “You could’ve caught it,” he told her. “Maybe you should’ve just tried harder - there isn’t a lot of prey around, after all.”

The she-cat snarled at him.  “It was the only thing I’ve seen all day!”

“Too bad, huh?” Curl mewed flatly.  The tom tilted his head.  “That must *really* suck.  I mean, it’s not like all of us are going hungry, and it’s *just* you."

Her pale brown fur began to bristle before she leapt for him, digging her claws into his shoulders and ripping at his pelt.  He rolled onto his back to crush her under his weight, but before he could do so she unlatched her claws from his shoulders and rolled out of his range, gracefully rising to her paws.  Curl unsheathed his claws as the she-cat rushed forwards and swiped at his face, her claws snagging a bit too close to his eye for his comfort.

He lifted a paw, swiping at one of her ears, only for her to dodge the attack and rush forwards again, knocking her shoulder into Curl’s chest, making him stumble backwards half a step.  *She’s fast,* he thought, dipping his head and sinking his teeth into her shoulder.  She growled, tugging herself out of his grip and taking a few quick steps towards his side, digging her claws into his flank and raking them across his ribs.  Curl hissed in pain, lifting a paw and landing a heavy blow on the side of her head, watching as she stumbled and taking the opportunity to slash at her shoulders.

The she-cat crouched low to the ground, surging forwards and twisting, digging her claws into her belly and kicking at his chest, drawing some blood there as well.  Curl tore himself away from the smaller cat’s claws, kicking her away from him. She hissed in pain, rolling back onto her paws before she leapt for him again, digging her claws into his shoulders and kicking at the front of his chest, hissing as she bit at his right ear.

The tom let out an irritated growl, shaking himself erratically to try and shake her off of him, backing up and unintentionally cornering himself.  He threw himself onto his side, wincing as he landed harshly on the ground, but it forced the she-cat to let go of that shoulder, allowing him some space to shove her off of him - the top half of the ear she was biting at coming off along with her.  He growled, but didn’t have any time to react as she slashed at him, clawing at his face and ears and chest and legs and anywhere else she could reach.

He leapt for her, the two grappling on the ground, each of them getting in their own blows.  He hissed as he felt one of her claws pierce his other ear, and he landed a blow on her muzzle in return.  The two sprang apart, each of them panting and covered in wounds - though, Curl guessed he was worse for wear than she was, as he could feel blood matting his curled fur and dripping down his newly-injured ear.

He wasn’t sure how long he could keep fighting, especially on an empty stomach.  He wondered if the she-cat had the same issue, as she wasn’t making another move to attack him.

After a few long moments, the she-cat huffed before she turned and stormed away.  Curl watched her, feeling tiredness settle over him before he turned and left, doing his best to ignore how his wounds stung as he walked.

As he padded onwards - for how long, he wasn’t sure, but it was long enough that the sun had gone from high up in the sky to beginning to set - he began to feel lightheaded, his steps becoming unsteady and uneven.  He began tripping over nothing, stumbling over his own two paws. He blinked black spots out of his vision, but he didn’t feel like he was about to pass out - his head wouldn’t have been starting to pound if he was.  At least, he didn’t think it would have. He was forced to stop as he felt a rush of dizziness overcome him, swishing his tail behind him for balance, even though he didn’t think he was going to fall.

He turned his head to look around him, fighting against the stiffness in his neck - when did his neck get stiff? He didn’t even know that could happen - before he slowly padded forwards, his head held low to try and fight against the sudden symptoms.  His den was too far, so he couldn’t go back there, and Wind was just as far away. He paused as he approached a bush, blinking slowly at it. It would make decent enough cover, he supposed.

He slipped under it, hiding among the small green leaves, barely even realizing that he had only half hidden himself among the brush before he closed his eyes.  He wrapped his kinked tail close to his side and settled his head on one of his paws, doing his best to ignore the sudden onset of symptoms and the worry that came with them.