Armina (L-C)

For #Little-Canopy c:

Name Armina (Means Noble)
Gender femme
Age 1 year
Position Storyteller
Breed bengal x ocicat
Accessories sometimes wears a gold earring
Personality Armina, as her name suggests, is very noble. This is how she wants to appear. She walks around with her head held high, looking sophisticated. Being seen as important is very important to her. If she is ignored, she becomes quite irritated and puts that cat on her list. What list? Oh yes, she keeps a list of all that have wronged her. And she never forgets, she has an astounding memory. She plans to get them all back one day, when they least expect it. If they even know they’re on it, anyway.
So ,as you can imagine, young Armina is very full of herself. According to her, she is absolutely amazing and it shocks her to find someone who disagrees. She’s also a snob, and often pokes fun at other cats.
On the nicer side of the she-cat, she is extremely loyal to her family and good friends, and would go to any length to protect them. She can also tell a good joke, and enjoys making others laugh when it fits her too. As well, she’s a fairly optimistic cat, always looking at the brighter side of things. This is partly because she doesn’t see the darker side until someone points it out to her.
History Armina has had a quiet life, never a truly eventful past. Really, she was born to a cook and a storyteller, and she followed in her mother's footsteps and became a storyteller as well. She has continued being one until now and has earned quite a status as a storyteller.
Kin n/a
Role-play example (This is from a different group)
Armina blinked open her lime-green eyes, which instantly narrowed into slits. She was tucked into a dim corner, with only a slanting golden ray of light betraying that the sun had risen. The ray bounced off of the cool walls of her enclosure, blinding her for a moment.

This city is living hell, hell alright. She ventured flatly, gently moving one paw along the concrete wall beside her. Memories of last night flooded back to her like a crashing wave, enveloping her with a chill. Those eyes, those bloodied fangs… it was too much to recall.

She frowned slightly and cautiously poked her head out of a broken window before creeping along the creaky windowsill. She scrabbled up the wall a few feet, digging her claws into whatever pawholds she could find. She reached the top of the roof and she layed down and peered over the edge of the roof, watching the dead city. Hauling herself up, she sighed and yawned loudly. I should probably be heading back inside by now, she thought, though the tranquility of the roof made her want to stay.