Post by Elena on Dec 26, 2008 23:19:39 GMT -5
Name: Reedstripe
Rank: Medicine Cat
Gender: Male
Age: 44 moons
Clan: PaleClan
Beliefs: Reedstripe always believed in StarClan, and is painfully well aware that they exist and did try to warn them of the coming storm, having received their prophecy himself. However, he has little respect for them, even if he acknowledges their existence and power.
Mentor/Apprentice: None, until someone fills that spot. (:
Kin: Father, Oakfur – Deceased from disease. Brown tabby tom.
Mother, Spottedflower – Old black and white she-cat. (NPC)
Mate: Forbidden.
Appearance: Reedstripe’s shape quite obviously shows his PaleClan heritage. His short-furred pelt makes it clear that he is unusually tall, without much bulk to make up for it. He is rather thin, and lacks the kind of heavy coat that even other shorthair cats might have. His face is narrow and proportioned to his body, and his large eyes and long legs give him a rather rabbit-like appearance, especially with his fur coloring.
Reedstripe’s pelt is a common brown tabby. The main base color for his pelt is a dusty gray-brown, overlaid with black and dark brown stripes. At his throat and chest, the color lightens to a more tan shade, and this goes down his belly as well. On his legs, the lighter brown stays more to the inside of them, while the dark brown stripes on them begin to break up into small spots near his feet. His tail is more of a gray color, with black banding it. The bottom of his muzzle is white, and the fur on his face is a gray-brown color, marked by dark brown stripes. Above his dark pink nose, the fur is almost a gingery shade of brown. His soft green eyes are surrounded by creamy white, and the insides of his ears are a muted pink, filled with very pale brown and white hair.
Despite Reedstripe’s long legs, he is not exceptionally fast, even compared to JayClan cats, although he has fair endurance. His hunting skills are below par, and his fighting skills exceptionally so.
Personality: Reedstripe tends to seem distant at first, although it is mostly that he is rather reluctant to approach others. If someone else is to make the first move, they will find that Reedstripe’s difficulties in finding new friends do not stem from being hostile. He is quite sweet, and seems to have a knack for knowing how to comfort others. He is, however, easily troubled and distracted, and closeness with him requires a similarly gentle hand. Indeed, sometimes it seems that while he takes care of other cats physically, he needs just as much attention mentally at times. However, he can cope with pressure and work well as a medicine cat, as his troubles do not come from his patients and their problems.
Reedstripe is quite smart, both from natural ability and from his years of experience. As a mentor, he would not be especially bad or good, his lack of confidence and strictness clashing with his intellect and kindness. Even when angered, he is able to hold himself back from doing things he knows he’ll regret, and he can be soft-hearted to the point of it being a bad trait. He does not have an especial closeness to StarClan despite his rank, though his belief in them is undeniable. He is, however, obsessively strict with the warrior code, one of the few areas where he will take a firm stand. Despite this, it is not in his nature to be brave or selfless, and following his own principles can be a struggle for him.
History: Reedkit was a naturally shy kit, not helped by being an only kit, with only his mother Spottedflower to encourage him. His father, Oakfur, had died only a few days after he was born from sickness, but it did not cause his son any pain, having never known him. After a while, it became apparent that Reedkit was showing interest in the medicine cat’s den, and enjoyed the idea of having the knowledge to heal more than battling and hunting like the vast majority of the Clan. Some cats believed the young kit was motivated by his father’s death, but Reedkit felt no such influence.
At six moons, Reedkit became Reedpaw, learning not from a warrior, but from Wrenclaw the medicine cat. Reedpaw soaked up his mentor’s teachings, rather enthusiastic about this other world of Clan life. However, he did feel somewhat cut off from the other apprentices, who slept in the same den and talked about common things every night. Reedpaw’s abilities in hunting and fighting suffered accordingly, considering his lack of time spent working on them, and his reluctance to join the other cats increased.
However, his abilities in healing continued to swell, and at 12 moons, he gained his full name, Reedstripe. As the moons went by, Wrenclaw grew old and went to join the elders, her senses failing with age. Reedstripe began working on his own, and though it was difficult at first for the unconfident tom, he could always find help from his old mentor, and he gradually became independent. When Reedstripe was 40 moons old, Wrenclaw caught greencough, and despite her former apprentice’s best efforts, the sickness proved too strong for the ancient cat’s system. Reedstripe’s life became rather turbulent after that, although gradually things smoothed out for him.
Not long after, he received the prophecy from StarClan warning of a coming storm. Mistaking its meaning because of his own thoughts, he kept it to himself, and though JayClan’s medicine cat came to him, sharing a similar dream, he dispelled his/her worries. When the storm came, Reedstripe felt immensely responsible for the deaths of the other cats, feeling that if he had exposed the prophecy, there might have been something they could have done to prepare and avoid the mass deaths. Ironically, his only living family member, ancient Spottedflower, survived, but this only made him feel, if anything, worse. Reedstripe took on immense amounts of guilt, but does not have the courage to tell the truth.
Picture: None. :D
Roleplay Example: “I was a medicine cat too,” snapped the once-pretty brown tabby, although it clearly hurt her throat. “You can’t fool me, I taught you everything you know. Or did you forget that?”
“Please just rest,” murmured the thin brown tom, bringing a small package of catmint in his mouth. The taste was appealing to him, naturally, but he had no time to think about it. Placing it in front of his former mentor, he said, clearly trying to avoid any tone of voice that would make her suspicious, “You should know how to use that, then.” The old she-cat stared at him for a second, then began to undo the package’s bindings. “And I suppose this is all just to make me not feel useless,” she murmured, looking up at her old apprentice’s quickly retreating figure.
Reedstripe walked the last few steps out of the den, and then picked up his pace into a run, fleeing out the camp entrance. It wasn’t time he didn’t have much of for Wrenclaw; he would gladly stay with her the whole time. It was a cure he didn’t have. Catmint had come in plenty during the summer, and had vanished just as quickly in the beginning of winter when sickness entered. It was too much to hope that Wrenclaw would be cured from a single small dose of the last few leaves they had.
Pulling his long-legged frame through the snow, Reedstripe’s feet shrieked in protest from the sudden change in temperature. He ignored the discomfort, and followed the path he knew led to the Twolegplace, constantly watching for anything he might trip on. Nearing a tall wall of brown wooden posts, he shot to the right side, pulling himself up a tree with as much power as his limbs could muster. He scrambled across one of the branches, nearly losing his footing in his hurry, and leaped over the fence. The tom landed awkwardly in the layer of snow, but immediately came up, looking for the patch of plants the Twolegs always kept.
A group of tall shapes stuck up beneath the snow, white coating their dark forms. Reedstripe dashed over to it, nosing among the first stiff catmint plant, hoping to find a few soft leaves left retaining their fragrance. Nothing. Tense, he looked around the next plant. All frozen and dead. Becoming desperate, he searched the third and last plant, then circled all three again, hoping for one missed leaf that might lead to a small living cluster. None of the plants had anything to help him. Panicked, he ripped off a group of frosted leaves, but the second they spent in his mouth told him he was wasting his time. Wrenclaw’s time, too.
Rank: Medicine Cat
Gender: Male
Age: 44 moons
Clan: PaleClan
Beliefs: Reedstripe always believed in StarClan, and is painfully well aware that they exist and did try to warn them of the coming storm, having received their prophecy himself. However, he has little respect for them, even if he acknowledges their existence and power.
Mentor/Apprentice: None, until someone fills that spot. (:
Kin: Father, Oakfur – Deceased from disease. Brown tabby tom.
Mother, Spottedflower – Old black and white she-cat. (NPC)
Mate: Forbidden.
Appearance: Reedstripe’s shape quite obviously shows his PaleClan heritage. His short-furred pelt makes it clear that he is unusually tall, without much bulk to make up for it. He is rather thin, and lacks the kind of heavy coat that even other shorthair cats might have. His face is narrow and proportioned to his body, and his large eyes and long legs give him a rather rabbit-like appearance, especially with his fur coloring.
Reedstripe’s pelt is a common brown tabby. The main base color for his pelt is a dusty gray-brown, overlaid with black and dark brown stripes. At his throat and chest, the color lightens to a more tan shade, and this goes down his belly as well. On his legs, the lighter brown stays more to the inside of them, while the dark brown stripes on them begin to break up into small spots near his feet. His tail is more of a gray color, with black banding it. The bottom of his muzzle is white, and the fur on his face is a gray-brown color, marked by dark brown stripes. Above his dark pink nose, the fur is almost a gingery shade of brown. His soft green eyes are surrounded by creamy white, and the insides of his ears are a muted pink, filled with very pale brown and white hair.
Despite Reedstripe’s long legs, he is not exceptionally fast, even compared to JayClan cats, although he has fair endurance. His hunting skills are below par, and his fighting skills exceptionally so.
Personality: Reedstripe tends to seem distant at first, although it is mostly that he is rather reluctant to approach others. If someone else is to make the first move, they will find that Reedstripe’s difficulties in finding new friends do not stem from being hostile. He is quite sweet, and seems to have a knack for knowing how to comfort others. He is, however, easily troubled and distracted, and closeness with him requires a similarly gentle hand. Indeed, sometimes it seems that while he takes care of other cats physically, he needs just as much attention mentally at times. However, he can cope with pressure and work well as a medicine cat, as his troubles do not come from his patients and their problems.
Reedstripe is quite smart, both from natural ability and from his years of experience. As a mentor, he would not be especially bad or good, his lack of confidence and strictness clashing with his intellect and kindness. Even when angered, he is able to hold himself back from doing things he knows he’ll regret, and he can be soft-hearted to the point of it being a bad trait. He does not have an especial closeness to StarClan despite his rank, though his belief in them is undeniable. He is, however, obsessively strict with the warrior code, one of the few areas where he will take a firm stand. Despite this, it is not in his nature to be brave or selfless, and following his own principles can be a struggle for him.
History: Reedkit was a naturally shy kit, not helped by being an only kit, with only his mother Spottedflower to encourage him. His father, Oakfur, had died only a few days after he was born from sickness, but it did not cause his son any pain, having never known him. After a while, it became apparent that Reedkit was showing interest in the medicine cat’s den, and enjoyed the idea of having the knowledge to heal more than battling and hunting like the vast majority of the Clan. Some cats believed the young kit was motivated by his father’s death, but Reedkit felt no such influence.
At six moons, Reedkit became Reedpaw, learning not from a warrior, but from Wrenclaw the medicine cat. Reedpaw soaked up his mentor’s teachings, rather enthusiastic about this other world of Clan life. However, he did feel somewhat cut off from the other apprentices, who slept in the same den and talked about common things every night. Reedpaw’s abilities in hunting and fighting suffered accordingly, considering his lack of time spent working on them, and his reluctance to join the other cats increased.
However, his abilities in healing continued to swell, and at 12 moons, he gained his full name, Reedstripe. As the moons went by, Wrenclaw grew old and went to join the elders, her senses failing with age. Reedstripe began working on his own, and though it was difficult at first for the unconfident tom, he could always find help from his old mentor, and he gradually became independent. When Reedstripe was 40 moons old, Wrenclaw caught greencough, and despite her former apprentice’s best efforts, the sickness proved too strong for the ancient cat’s system. Reedstripe’s life became rather turbulent after that, although gradually things smoothed out for him.
Not long after, he received the prophecy from StarClan warning of a coming storm. Mistaking its meaning because of his own thoughts, he kept it to himself, and though JayClan’s medicine cat came to him, sharing a similar dream, he dispelled his/her worries. When the storm came, Reedstripe felt immensely responsible for the deaths of the other cats, feeling that if he had exposed the prophecy, there might have been something they could have done to prepare and avoid the mass deaths. Ironically, his only living family member, ancient Spottedflower, survived, but this only made him feel, if anything, worse. Reedstripe took on immense amounts of guilt, but does not have the courage to tell the truth.
Picture: None. :D
Roleplay Example: “I was a medicine cat too,” snapped the once-pretty brown tabby, although it clearly hurt her throat. “You can’t fool me, I taught you everything you know. Or did you forget that?”
“Please just rest,” murmured the thin brown tom, bringing a small package of catmint in his mouth. The taste was appealing to him, naturally, but he had no time to think about it. Placing it in front of his former mentor, he said, clearly trying to avoid any tone of voice that would make her suspicious, “You should know how to use that, then.” The old she-cat stared at him for a second, then began to undo the package’s bindings. “And I suppose this is all just to make me not feel useless,” she murmured, looking up at her old apprentice’s quickly retreating figure.
Reedstripe walked the last few steps out of the den, and then picked up his pace into a run, fleeing out the camp entrance. It wasn’t time he didn’t have much of for Wrenclaw; he would gladly stay with her the whole time. It was a cure he didn’t have. Catmint had come in plenty during the summer, and had vanished just as quickly in the beginning of winter when sickness entered. It was too much to hope that Wrenclaw would be cured from a single small dose of the last few leaves they had.
Pulling his long-legged frame through the snow, Reedstripe’s feet shrieked in protest from the sudden change in temperature. He ignored the discomfort, and followed the path he knew led to the Twolegplace, constantly watching for anything he might trip on. Nearing a tall wall of brown wooden posts, he shot to the right side, pulling himself up a tree with as much power as his limbs could muster. He scrambled across one of the branches, nearly losing his footing in his hurry, and leaped over the fence. The tom landed awkwardly in the layer of snow, but immediately came up, looking for the patch of plants the Twolegs always kept.
A group of tall shapes stuck up beneath the snow, white coating their dark forms. Reedstripe dashed over to it, nosing among the first stiff catmint plant, hoping to find a few soft leaves left retaining their fragrance. Nothing. Tense, he looked around the next plant. All frozen and dead. Becoming desperate, he searched the third and last plant, then circled all three again, hoping for one missed leaf that might lead to a small living cluster. None of the plants had anything to help him. Panicked, he ripped off a group of frosted leaves, but the second they spent in his mouth told him he was wasting his time. Wrenclaw’s time, too.
