You missed my post on the previous page. This is what it said --

This is an update to Firewind. (Also please add my name to the username in his bio.)

FIREWIND
Roleplayed by Whitemuzzle
He has a handsome dark orange tabby coat with very distinctive light gray stripes. His light blue eyes are like pools of clean, crystal water giving him a look of intensity. A nicely built cat with broad shoulders and strong muscles, he's been known to turn quite a few she cat's heads. What he lacks in speed and swiftness is made up by his strength and cunning. He especially excels in battling skills but his hunting abilities are average. This tom is as loyal as one can get, an asset to his clan. There is an aura of confidence that surrounds him that is seen especially in the way he carries himself. But even so, he is not a conceited cat but cares deeply for the members of his clan. Firewind enjoys tending to the needs of others and helping wherever he can. It’s even not beneath him to help out apprentices with their mundane duties. He had been NightClan deputy until he was injured in a fight with rogues leaving him with a permanent limp. Not being one to give up, Firewind worked his way back to health, retaining his warrior status. (Family: Mate – Creampuff, mother – Nightsky, sister – Tinyspots, brother – Eaglefeather)

Breezepaw (step)
Roleplayed by woof
His pelt is long and largely an inky black but for the ginger and tabby brown blitzing around his thick stripes. His whiskers curl with mischief, his yellow eyes gleam humorously, and his maw is eternally crooked into a sunny smile- but Breezestep is not all chivalry and golden charm. He's wicked in his own way. He was Cloudkit of WinterClan, a happy-go-lucky scamp who knew nothing bad of the world and never expected his innocence might run out; but run out it did, and on the very day he was expectantly waiting to receive his apprentice name. His parents never stepped foot at his ceremony- his mother, Fireflicker, with her FallClan affair and his father, Ravenrustle, sneaking around SpringClan- and after that day, neither did Cloudkit ever again step foot in WinterClan's camp. Breezestep's known for his agile grace and quick paws, but back then, fueled by righteous wrath, his gait was no more nimble than that of a newborn fawn. He stalked through nights and blistering days until he felt the cushion of NightClan's fields under his splintered pads. Here, he shed his old identity for a new one, and now he goes through life known only for his silver tongue, needlepoint humor- and, oh, not to forget the way he can sabotage any romantic interest another cat may show for him. Nothing is fair in love and war: Breezestep's easy to love, but his heart wages many wars.

STORMREIGN
roleplayed by Cleaver
Impeccably sharp with his short, dense blue coat and white toes, Raijin is an incredibly handsome tom. He has the proper formal look of a former Commander, well-groomed and clean, with a prideful lean neck tall enough to look over his heads of many of his shorter groupmates. His coat isn't dark as some of the tunnel dwellers, but he was born on the surface high above and many leagues away, where his dark fur melted into the shade of the juniper bushes and the cool reflection of the lake. It doesn't match his new territory either, but he adjusted long ago. Syndactyl, he only has three white toes on each forepaw, plus his dewclaw. Raijin's charisma is matched by his wit and he's quick with a flirty joke; his flashy nature keeps him in the spotlight where he loves to be. He doesn't fit into crowds as well as his brother Fujin, even when he laughs he feels the separation and can't quite manage the same level of levity, but nonetheless most forget to notice his discomfort. His deep blue gaze is intense, alluring and playful and dangerous -- dangerous, because he has a strong sense of humor, but a weak grasp on morality. He spent a few moons in the League which only eroded his few moral qualms even further, leaving his siblings without a care at all, and him reluctantly clinging to the few honorable tenants he knew. There's always been a hint of weakness in him he can't break, a hesitation when it comes to purely serving his own self, that nags at him in the night. He can't quite become ruthless, but he's a free cat, and he doesn't like restrictions either. Approaching the Regime was his test, motivated by a fleeting hope the strict order would push some sense into his mind, or else drive him absolutely mad. He can't be convinced it has done either. Raijin leans into the chaos, he tastes the wilderness and yearns for more, and he can't deny its call. His public persona is far more outgoing than the cat in private: alone with a friend, he relaxes, and he becomes softer. The intensity never leaves him, never fades from his enchanting eyes, but he's warm and excitable and honest -- he's open, and when his openness is received well, he swoons. Raijin is a romantic at heart and he always dreams of the next step, of finding the perfect cat to spend his life with. He knows most of the cats he falls for won't return his feelings or will inevitable crush his heart, but he doesn't mind; isn't a minute of love worth the heartbreak? He refuses to stop giving his heart away. It's his own fault, really, that he is so easily enchanted. He has no respect for personal space, sometimes seems to lack understanding of it entirely, and isn't afraid to admit his innermost feelings to a stranger. He has little restraint and any cat that listens delights him almost as much as he is overjoyed to hear their stories. He is his own demise, but he doesn't mind; he's the storm and chaos and he lets it all go. Nothing ever lasts forever, not even love. If he is deeply entangled in his heartstrings today, tomorrow he will set his sights on someone else. Nothing in his life has been permanent, not even his leadership. He pushes himself to try new things and he loves to explore boundaries, because not even consequences will last him. After he escaped the Regime's prison he was forced to recover with barn cats for a few moons, his body bruised from his getaway that torrential night, but once he found his freedom he set out for the clans. Flamingstar was only his friend, and he knew she wouldn't turn him away if he wanted to be at her side. The window for romance between them has long since closed, but he doesn't mind having her as an ally while he gathers his bearings and wonders where the storm will take him next.

Prisoner

RUNNINGHORSE
roleplayed by firepool
"Like a horse, you will run free and wild" Runninghorse was born on August 30, 2019, to Truffleheart, his Mother and Wisppelt, his Father. He was birthed inside NightClan's nursery, were his Mother died giving birth to him. His Father had already died to a punctured lung, that had happened from him fighting a badger, the day before his birth. Now without parents, he was raised an orphan within his home Clan. Though he may have other relatives that have yet to show themselves. Runninghorse grew up as a normal kit , doing kitten things, later on, becoming an apprentice. He excelled at his learning, but due to his willfulness and free-spirited ways, he had to be pushed to learn. His mentor had to find creative ways, that would bring out the passionate side of Runninghorse. One of things that he loves to do, is run. With his longs legs and stick-like body, it's no wonder. His mentor, found ways of using his love for running as a training method to get him to learn. Finally though, he passed his assessment and became a warrior. On, August 30, 2020, Runninghorse became a warrior, and his journey is just beginning. Runninghorse is a lithe and lanky, black striped tabby with light tan-brown flecks throughout his pelt. He has light green eyes and short fur. " Run free and wild like the horse"
Warrior

Stormkit (flight)

Roleplayed by Mem

Stormkit is a wispy little thing as of now. A she-cat kit two moons old, her dark gray coat is accented by a lighter gray, almost melting into the darker tone like smoke, or more aptly, storm clouds. Her coat isn’t quite sleek enough to be considered shorthaired, but it’s also not fluffy enough to be considered longhair. Only time will tell how her downy kitten coat will develop. Her eyes are a light yellow-green that shine bright with her curiosity and determination. She loves stalking through the shadows along the soft floor in the nursery. Her ears are just a bit large compared to the rest of her, and the other kits will sometimes tease her about them. Her mother always tells her that the other kits are just jealous as Stormkit will have the best ears for locating hiding prey scuttling through the darkness. She wishes with her whole heart that one day she’ll grow into her ears. Stormkit typically ignores the other kits with their jeering comments, usually preferring to pounce and play by herself or with her mother’s tail. She sends haughty looks to the other kits when she catches their snippets of conversations, especially if she hears mention of her name. She’ll never admit it, her pride already strong at her young age, but she gets lonely playing by herself.

Kit

CHERRYPAW (shadow)
Roleplayed by meow
Although she was born pure white, as she grew black and orange splotches blossomed across her face and paws, but her blue eyes never changed. She has bravery, ambition, and intelligence to spare, but empathy and kindness she has always found harder to come by. A desire for honesty and a frequent failure to understand the emotions of others leaves her with a blunt tongue that often offends, whether or not she intends it to. A great warrior but no great friend or lover, she is deeply loyal to her clan but often excluded from the more intimate relationships that blossom between her clanmates.
Apprentice

okay jk i had a change of plans
could you delete cherrypaw and add these two instead pls c:

STRAWBERRYPAW (smoke)
Roleplayed by meow
Long-legged, with a smooth long coat of mainly orange interspersed with brief patches of inky black here and there and a piercingly bright green stare. She has bravery. ambition, and intelligence to spare, but they are often masked beneath a thorny attitude towards others born out of a deep-seated sense of insecurity that follows her like a dark cloud. Born to a pure-blooded NightClan mother who fully exercised her right to conceal the father of her kits and passed away before ever revealing the truth to even her daughter, Strawberrysmoke is at once proud of her NightClan blood and deathly afraid that she might be the daughter of an outsider. Although no one would question her capabilities had she more confidence in them herself, her own self-doubt causes her to be violently defensive at the mere imagination of an insult.
Apprentice

CRICKETPAW (cloud)
Roleplayed by meow
Soft brown stripes encapsulate a willowy frame with what seems like impossibly long legs, complemented by delicate white patches upon her extremities and a honey-coloured gaze. A sweet and loving soul, she is as easy to talk to as she is easy on the eyes. Unfortunately for her in a life where hunting and fighting are everyday activities, however, she has not an ounce of courage to go along with any of her other virtues.
Apprentice

and another one

SHRIKEPAW (shadow)
Roleplayed by meow
He has an opinion, and he’s not afraid to share it regardless of the consequences it may have to others' feelings. On the small side for a tom but not lacking in strength to make up for it, his pelt is equally split between frosty white and patches of midnight black, his eyes a bright shade of yellow. A deep commitment to his own sense of justice and honesty leads him to be independent and decisive, but with a blunt tongue that often offends, whether or not he intends it to. A great warrior but no great friend or lover, he is deeply loyal to his clan and his code but rarely involved in the more intimate relationships that blossom between his clanmates.
Apprentice

LOONPAW (feather)
roleplayed by niko
A socially inept but highly self-conscious little sprig of a creature, Loonfeather treads low and slow through the cacophonous world around her. She is quite shy around others, withdrawing into a deep blankness almost to the degree of disassociation. There is an air of timidity about her... a cloying submissiveness, sweet as ambrosia honey to those seek to harm, intimidate, needle-- and she certainly looks the part of perfect prey, something fragile to be pursued and decimated, devoured... and perhaps not even that; perhaps just the remainders: a half-eaten corpse, heavy blood-scent in the air coaxing the nearest predators. In both presence and body she is small, shoulders dipped, her long, slender neck ducked even with her spine, parallel to the earth she roams. Loonfeather wears a thin pelt of dusty black fur, except in patches where she has pulled or scratched it out, something she does compulsively. Her most notable lack of fur-- where only pale whitish skin remains, lightly fuzzed over with constantly regrowing fur-- is between and just above her eyes, and along the front of her forepaws and legs. Loonfeather’s eyes are a pale green with fibers of yellow, and may give just a hint of derision if they fall upon a tom. Though Loonfeather hardly connects with she-cats, she is far more comfortable in their presence. She admires and (in her own odd way) fusses over queens, and dearly, dearly loves kits, daydreaming constantly about having a litter of her own, but this stoic feline is darkly skeptical of tom-cats and has strange, specific standards of how they should act. Despite this, Loonfeather has little to offer herself. She is lazy and inattentive and not suited for hunting or strategy, which she deeply resents. In battle, she is exceptional only at surviving: much like any cornered, desperate creature, Loonfeather will do anything necessary to overcome a threat, at the cost of humility, honor, or anything else. Her only real notable traits reside in her fierce, obsessive loyalty to Nightclan, and perhaps her intense ability to hold grudges… or at least the skulking, quiet, targeted campaigns of passive aggression that transpire from them.
apprentice


QUARRYDUST
roleplayed by niko
A glutton in every sense of the word, Quarrydust is as personable a leech as they come. This broad-shouldered tom acts confident and unperturbed; he is the one that responds smoothly and wittily to an insult, but internally be crushed, embarrassed, swallowing down a wrathful storm; a leech, once more, but in a serpent’s body. Bold and boisterous; flirty; a damn fool, but a fun one, the type you can rely on to make dangerous, exciting mistakes with. He takes up a lot of space, not just physically, but butting into conversations, always pushing a boundary of some sort… it’s hard to say whether it’s obliviousness, or if there’s more intention to Quarrydust’s irritating prodding. However, that would imply there is more depth to him, more intellect, and Quarrydust is truly an impulsive fool by all evidence, and he seems to cope with his idiocy by eating. A talented hunter, but he breaks the code near constantly by eating on the job. He sneaks food whenever possible, invites himself to your lunch after already devouring his. He is no prodigy, but it is astounding to see his knowledge of all things edible, from herbs to berries to grass, leaves, etc. A slightly insecure, sufficiently friendly, admittedly heroic, and fairly morally sound tom... if not a bit exhausting. A large, imposing, rather handsome tom, his upper half is blanketed in dark tabby fur, swirled and dusted with fawnish tan. His legs and belly are a shock of white fur, and above his pale pink nose sits rather narrow pale yellow eyes. If a she-cat should ever speak to him, it may as well be an instant proposal; Quarrydust falls too hard, too fast, and will latch onto you as only parasites do.
warrior