──── reedbones.  named for his dexterity and fluidity, not unlike the flexibility of some reeds.
──── cis male. uses he/him/his pronouns.  use of others will be taken as an attempt to offend.
──── approximately forty-eight months old. born the 14th of april (aries). created august 16th.
──── used to travel often, occasionally in a group. tended to attack & steal from other loners.
──── warrior of windclan. joined the marsh group against the pine cats; killed several siblings.
──── gray aro-ace. has very little-to-no interest in romance; flings are purely out of boredom.

[ Chocolate & chocolate silver tabby chimera ] Reedbones is neither tall (at 7 inches) nor wide (at 8 pounds), and from afar, there’s very little that’s especially noticeable at all. In close proximity, however, it is abundantly clear that his small stature and mass can barely contain him. He is surprisingly sturdy and sinewy, and one can almost imagine it is his body’s attempt to better house the intense, volatile nature of its host. He is often in motion, and though he is rarely dramatic in his gesturing, he is markedly restless; if such a thing were possible, it might seem that if he were to stand completely still, his blood would cool and his muscles would turn to stone. He is a stranger to moderation, to reserve and diplomacy of character. Social mores —of some places— would doubtlessly prefer at least a measure of propriety, but Reedbones is nothing if not a defiance of order, as evidenced by his bedlam mannerisms and unruly, disheveled fur.

Even Reedbones' markings —a dissonant smattering of hickory and cream in sweeping tumults— are similarly restless. His gaze, too, reflects this impossibility of containment: they are uncannily bright and sharp, blades wielded and pointed without care for safety. His eyes are a pale, cool shade of brown with faint, near-imperceptible flecks of blue, resembling not the earthen warmth of soil or tree bark but the chill of metal. Still, in spite of this discord, his movements themselves are not a disarray of limbs; his physical rhythm is not a staccato chaos but the smooth transience of wind in the grass, effortless swaying, a surprising grace for someone so turbulent.


Reedbones is a kaleidoscope of a creature, knowable and unknowable all at once. It is remarkably easy to immediately dismiss him as a vulgar-mouthed, coarse, and far-too-energetic man— and that certainly isn't inaccurate. His earned title as The Tearless among loners never seems to lack evidence given how openly he either revels in bloodshed or disregards suffering. From this, it is only too simple to leap between a slew of assumptions: that he is heartless, that he shuns any intimacy with other people, that given the opportunity, he would betray those around him.

But with a slight shift, the stars of the kaleidoscope align differently. He is violently loyal to those he cares for, to the point that he will not spare them pain if he believes it will do them good later. He is a rough teacher to the few he's taken into tutelage because he does not expect tenderness from the world, and does not want them to sail through a storm unprepared for the burn of rope in their palms. He is not afraid of admitting friendship, nor of expressing his love, and if he fears anything, it is slowing down in his frenzied march through life to reflect on how he has harmed those people.

He is still conniving and often deceptive; if he laughs or smiles, it is far more often mocking than gentle, and softness is too unwieldy for him to bear with ease. He bristles frequently and relaxes little, and because he knows his own shadows too well, occasionally comes to expect the worst of other people. Reedbones is flawed and eruptive in temper, given to rash decisions of violence more than premeditated peace.

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