Furnenblade ~ Somewhat Lost?

[ducky]

~Character Information~

Personal Information
Name: Furnenblade
Age: 42 moons
Gender: male
Family: unknown
Love Life: Roughly, none

Clan Information

[/i][/b]
Clan: none, for the moment
Rank: warrior

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

Physical Description: a large, tigerlike tom with amber eyes
Short Physical Description: ?!?!

Personality
Clan Wise: loyal and determined
Family, Love, And Friends: friendly, protecting, and loyal
Personal: (This is his personality towards himself, right?) harsh, short tempered, and generally motivating.
Battle: swift, punishing, and ready to pay blow for blow
Undefinded: all out nice, understanding, and piercing in predictions of others' actions

History
Kithood: Furnenkit? As a kit he was only called Furnen. A fox almost killed him after a deadly fall off a cliff. The fox was defeated by a patrol from a clan. When asked his name, the half-dead could only murmer, "Furnen." From there, he was an outcast in the clan.
Apprenticeship: Again, an outcast
Warriorhood: Incomplete

Other Information:
Extra: Err... Yeah.
RP Example:
(This roleplay example is from another site.)
|Flashback|

Sulfur.
Rotten.
Furnenblade recoiled from the stench. Twolegs left everything in this stretch between the Loner Lands and BraveClan territory.
Wait. Where are the BraveClan scent markers?
It made no sense to the 'tiger'. Running now, he reached the BraveClan camp. Empty. Full of determination, he ran to the nearest clan to ask. When no border patrol came, Furnenblade got curious and sniffed around.
No scent markers.
The clans have moved!
Furnenblade would have abandoned himself to despair had he not seen the large set of pawprints. Many cats had come this way. Following the tracks led him gradually towards a mountain range.
Even more trouble.
A howl erupted its way into the tom's ears.
Wolves.
At that point, he broke into a run. On the mountains, it was very, very bad. Frequently, snow masked the path of the clans, and the wolves had found him.
An entire pack was after him, now. Furnenblade leaped over a deep crevice, followed by about a dozen wolves. The second to last one stopped at the other side to bark, as wolves will, and was in the direct path of the wolf behind him. They both fell, howling the entire way. Ten left.
A sudden, icy bend up ahead. It would be hard to make the turn, but the cliff ahead was well beyond leaping distance. Furnenblade barely managed the turn, and it was impossible for six of the wolves. The remaining four were catching up.
Pain seared through Furnenblade's body as the tip of his tail came flying off. The wolves were almost close enough to pounce on him. It seemed like a dead-end up ahead, because the jump was so vast. But maybe Furnenblade could make it.
The landing hurt, and a crack made him think that he had cracked something.
He had.
It was the ice that formed the ledge. It didn't take much convincing to get him to move. The wolves were unlucky. The ice completely fell when the first one leaped, and the last three had sense not to make the jump.
Safe, at last.

[/size][/center]