ShadowClan Tryouts

[Sporelett]

[/i], has a couple of high positions open for those who wish to pursue them! As high positions are generally coveted and all around awesome, anyone wishing to try out for the position of ShadowClan's deputy or medicine cat will have until the end of August 15th to post their entry, after which time the thread will be closed and I will decide the winners.

Change of plans, chickadees! Applicants for the position of deputy will have until the end of the 15th to post their applications. After this time, all deputy applications will be denied and medicine cat applications will start being accepted. Medicine cat applications can be posted from the 16th to the end of the 22nd, possibly longer if I decide I'd like more applications.

All entries will be posted in this thread, instead of in the creation section. Remember, a roleplay sample must be included with all applications, even if you already have an accepted character. Deputies will be expected to post regularly and take part in Clan leadership activities. Medicine cats will be expected to be present after any and all major battles to provide healing services. If you cannot be present regularly or do not want to take part in the care and management of the Clan, please do not apply.

Deputy Applicants :.

Ivytooth -- Sydney
Shadowflight -- Shaadow

Medicine Cat Applicants :.

Snowpool -- Mousy677
Heavywhisker -- sadiebutt
Marshfoot -- Thyme

[/blockquote]

.: Update .:. The ShadowClan deputy and medicine cat have both been chosen! Congratulations to Sydney and Thyme, and good luck with your new characters.[/ul][/size]

[[S]ydney]

[Just post it here, right? c:]


Name
Ivytooth
Gender
She-cat
Age
Thirty-Nine Moons
Clan
ShadowClan
Rank
Deputy
Apprentice
None.
Love Interest
Ha, none.

Mother
Willowflower ;;; Deceased , NPC.
Father
Uknown.
Daughter
Ashkit ;;; Seven Moons , Kitty.

Description

Personality

[/i]

It is a well known fact that Ivytooth is a very impulsive and, at times, vengeful, cat. Truthfully, she just wants what's best for her clan. She wants the wars to stop, she wants her kit to be able to grow up peacefully, she wants there to be no more orphans. She wants a lot of things and, one way or another, Ivytooth is determined to help make these things happen. She has a rather strong sense of “justice” and, when she feels that justice isn't being served, she'll take it into her own paws. She's often gone out of her way to torment another cat as “punishment” and though she's never gone as far to harm them, some cats often feel harassed by her constant pushing. If she wants answers, she'll push, if she wants you to confess what you did, she'll push. She can be a kind cat, really but, she's very “pushy” about her views. Pushy and vocal, at least.

She can be bitter about quite a lot of things, too. Bitter to Thornclaw, resentful to her patrol for not finding her in time... She'll forgive them, over time. But, it will take some time, for Ivytooth wounds take forever to heal.

She's compassionate and loyal, to those she views deserves these feelings and, can either be your best friend or a nasty cat to be around. She has a knack for dealing with kits and, her fiercely protective nature for them often make her kits' favorite cat to be around. Everyone knows that if there's an apprentice or warrior you don't like, just go tell Ivytooth they've been bullying you. She'll take care of it. The one cat she's the most protective about, however, is her own kit. StarClan forbid you bully her, bother her or anything because, well, she will go after you.

She'll tear you apart.

So far, Ivytooth has been trying to uphold the warrior code, she views it as a good set of rules and, agrees with most of them. (And, if you asked, she'll say it's her code to live by.) But, truthfully, Ivytooth feels that the warrior code, while it is a very good set of rules, does not uphold “justice” the way she feels justice should be upheld. Not to mention, her clanmates' near lack of care for the warrior code and justice often leaves Ivytooth frustrated and angry.

She's frustrated by most things, actually.

Frustrated by the wars, frustrated by the orphans, frustrated by the lack of justice.

These feelings of frustration often leave Ivytooth angry though, she bottles it up well enough.

Well enough until it explodes in a violent rage, though.

These “rages” however, are rare and she tries to keep them under check. You can tell when they're coming though, because her temper will begin to drop and she'll begin to snap at the littlest of things.

All in all, Ivytooth is a good cat.

Sometimes though, she treads a thin line...

A very, very thin line.[/ul]

History

[/i] came into play.

Throughout their apprenticeship these four cats stuck together, Thornpaw becoming their little ring-leader with Ivypaw as his “die-for-him” partner.

Once the war with ThunderClan started, Ivypaw and her three friends were made warriors, perhaps too early, in some cases. Ivytooth, Littlespot, Tansycloud, and Thornclaw all became respected members of the clan, or, as respected as newly-made warriors could be and, were thrown out into the fray. Littlespot died in the battle, leaving the group of friends mourning and shell-shocked. Before the war ended their group was nearly completely destroyed, Littlespot dead, Tansycloud left mutilated and blinded, and Thornclaw, distant and silent.

He pushed himself away from Ivytooth, leaving the she-cat just about completely alone.

Her mother was already dead, her best friend didn't want her anymore.

And this battle that had caused it all, there had been no winnings from it.

They won no territory, no new borders.

The battle had no point and, this realization left Ivytooth feeling angry and frustrated with the world. Angry with her leader and deputy, the she-cat pushed herself away from most warriors and instead turned her attention on the kits and apprentices who had lost family members into the battle. She spent every moment she could trying to befriend said kits and apprentices though, once the clan began to train for their attack on RiverClan, Ivytooth found herself unable to really find time to talk to them.

So, she began to skirmish on her duties, instead leaving to do as she pleased. She trained her apprentice, a strapping she-cat named Frostpaw, occasionally and, despite not spending enough time with her, Ivytooth managed to make Frostpaw into a warrior before the RiverClan battle. Truthfully, it is perhaps only sheer luck that Ivytooth survived the attack on RiverClan while her old apprentice died or, perhaps she only survived so she could manage to save Thornclaw during the battle.

After said rescue and the consequential winning of some of RiverClan's territory, Ivytooth and Thornclaw's friendship began to mend itself and, something akin to a mutual understanding grew between them, and, Ivytooth regained her best friend once more. And Thornclaw, well, he gained back his "sister" and an aunt for his kits. These kits were lucky, only becoming old enough to become apprentices a moon after the attack on RiverClan. Ivytooth was given the only male of these four kits as an apprentice, a cute thing named Goldenpaw. Ivytooth trained the tom to the best of her abilities and, slowly, began making a name for herself within the clan. Training Thornclaw's son brought Ivytooth and her old friend closer, and, despite the looks they received from others, they stayed nothing more then close friends.

Training Goldenpaw was a bit of a handful but, Ivytooth managed it. One day, however, Goldenpaw wound up missing and, Ivytooth, thinking he decided to play hooky, went off by herself to find him. Looking back, this was a very bad idea. Ivytooth ended up being attacked by a vengeful RiverClan cat (his mate had died in the battle between ShadowClan and RiverClan, long ago) and, consequently, forcefully "taken" by the tom. A ShadowClan patrol, on the look out for Ivytooth and Goldenpaw, found the she-cat after the RiverClan tom and brought her back. Goldenpaw was found a few days later, his leg sprained and his father, Thornclaw took over his son's training once it healed. Ivytooth and Thornclaw's friendship died out, Thornclaw blaming her for his son's injury and because of Ivytooth's resentment towards the patrol who found her too late. Roughly two moons after this incident, Ivytooth gave birth to a tiny kit. She was named Ashkit and, Ivytooth tried to raise the little kit the best she could. This proved hard though, for Ashkit was born with only three legs. She was able to start up her warrior duties a moon early, when Ashkit was five moons old and, she returned determined and, a bit resentful. She felt pretty bad for leaving her it early, especially since her daughter would never be a warrior, something the little kit wanted desperately.

Her rather impulsive behavior (more so then before), however, left most cats with a bad taste in their mouth after speaking to the she-cat. She was nice sure but, her impulsive and “take-everything-personally” attitude was sure to get her into trouble, eventually.

None the less, she continued on and, only a few days ago, after Longstar's death and Rainstar was made leader, Ivytooth was actually chosen to become deputy.

...

Well, hopefully, she can do a good job.[/ul]

Other

[/url][/color]]

* 41 moons ago - Willowflower has a one time fling with a ThunderClan tom.
* 39 moons ago - Ivykit is born.
* 33 moons ago - Ivypaw is made into an apprentice.
* 26 moons ago - Bloody war for ThunderClan borders us started, Ivypaw made into a warrior.
* 15 moons ago - ShadowClan attacks RiverClan, extends their territory.
* 14 moons ago - Ivytooth is given Goldenpaw to mentor.
* 13 moons ago - RiverClan reclaims territory, Rainfur named deputy.
* 9 moons ago - Ivytooth is attacked by a RiverClan tom.
* 8 moons ago - Ivytooth is announced pregnant, Thornclaw takes over Goldenpaw's training.
* 7 moons ago - Ivytooth gives birth to Ashkit.
* 2 moons ago - Ivytooth returns to warrior duties.
* Several days ago - Longstar dies, Rainfur made leader, Ivytooth made deputy.
[/ul]

Roleplay Example

[/i]. She could see glimpses of him in everything but, she hid the fear well.

But bottling it up would do no good, she would learn that in due time when she lashed out at some poor apprentice.

But, for now, she knew nothing of this and continued on.

”Branchtail, Lilypaw, Goldenfang, Daisyfur, you're on dawn border patrol, hurry it up!”[/ul][/size]

[mercy128]

Name: Shadowflight
Gender: Female
Age: 33 moons
Clan: ShadowClan
Rank:Deputy
Apprentice: Sure
Love Interest: None
Kin: Brokenclaw(Father), Frostfang(Mother)
Description:
Shadowflight is a small lithe black cat. Her green eyes are piercing seeming to see everything unless she is excited about something then they blaze. Her size has fooled others in the past, though she has less mass than other cats her spirit is so bright that she appears bigger than she is. Her tail is long for her body, it is an average size, most of the time it is tucked around her paws when she is sitting. She looks irritated when she gets lost in thought. Around her their is an aura if strength and confidence that others take comfort and strength from. Though her gaze is often unsettling to others, she is unaware of the reason for their uncomfortableness.

Personality:
Shadowflight is not the most personable of cats. She has a sharp sarcastic tongue and is not afraid to use it when she feels you are being stupid. She likes her alone time and sneaks off to find it whenever she can. Though she'd rather keep to herself she is always the first to offer help when it is needed or when duty calls. She never wanted to be anything other than a warrior, as she has no patience for laziness or stupidity. She resents the responsibility that she is forced to bear and wants nothing more than to be left alone. Her secret dream is to find true love, but she would never admit to it even to herself.

History:
Shadowflight was born in ShadowClan, both of her parents were true fighters. They loved combat and everything about a good old-fashioned knock-down-drag-out. She had been something of a disappointment to them when she had been born small. Her mother would always tell her that she would be fiercer in a fight because of her size.
Well when she started her training she proved her mother right, though she had to work twice as hard as the other apprentices. She soon showed cunning and speed in a fight, this was due to extra training she was putting herself through at night when everyone else was asleep. During her night sessions she gained more stamina and endurance.
As a Warrior she was always found in the middle of some mischief or another. Though never anything too bad that she got severe punishments. She always had an air of authority about her that made the other Warriors come to her with problems to her annoyance. Most of the time she pointed out that if they took time to use a half of the brain StarClan gave them they would see the answer to their problems. The Leader and Deputy at the time had been watching her grow up and noticed her self confidence and generosity. They agreed that should anything happen to one another she would be named the next Deputy.
No one else knew of their plan as time went on. The Leader retired and the Deputy took the Leader's place, Shaadowflight was the most surprised to hear herself named Deputy. She became more serious than she had been previously to her new duties, though she never lost her sense of humor. She listened more attentively and tried to solve the problems handed to her. She is just starting out but has a bright future ahead of her.

Other:
Roleplay Example:
The beautiful velvety black sky was flecked with stars as the emerald eyes stared up at them with undisguised aw and wonder. Shadowflight sprang from her branch and leapt from branch to branch until she could easily spring to the forest floor. With the ease of practice she went through her fighting routine.

Her thoughts not heeded for the task become her muscles knew from constant practices what was supposed to happen, her mind wandered to the pang of loneliness that pierced her heart.

Here alone in the dark she could admit that a mate would be nice, or even a close friend. But her attitude intimidated most of the toms. And none had intrigued her enough to put aside her ambitions. By the time she shook her depressing thoughts from her head she had finished her routine with her usual flare, a paw claws out reaching for the stars as if she caught a cat in the chin.

With emerald eyes blazing with wild energy she slowly sank to the forest floor, exhausted. . .

[Sporelett]

[/size]

[Deleted]

Name:

Snowpool

Age:

23 moons

Gender:

Tom.

Clan:

ShadowClan

Apprentice:

No.

Rank:

Medicine cat.

Love Interest:

No, he wouldn't want one. And even if he did he wouldn't be allowed one.

Kin:

Whitecloud <Mother, ShadowClan -- NPC (deceased).>
Icepool <Father, RiverClan -- NPC.>
Cloudstripe <Sister, ShadowClan -- NPC.>

Description:

Snowpool certainly is a handsome cat. With his deep-blue eyes, soft pelt, handsome face, kind smile and- wait, what happened to his tail?! Oh great StarClan, and his leg?! His tail's been completely chopped off from halfway down, and what's left doesn't look too healthy! And his leg?! Eurgh... The less said about that the better. Yeuch. Imagine having half your right front leg ripped out and just having an ugly scar now. How terrible. And how disgusting! It's no wonder he's the medicine cat now! Great StarClan, it's a bit odd that he wasn't sent packing or sent to the elders' den! Well, I suppose there have been injured medicine cats in the past, so what's the harm of having one in ShadowClan? But it's still disgusting!

Enough of that, now. Calm down...

Snowpool is a white tom, with faint brown markings around his face, and his remaining front paw. There's also a pale-ginger line going down his back to what is now the tip of his tail. His eyes are a dark blue, and they are almond-shaped. His eyes are usually hidden, because he tends to hang his head down for no real reason. Nonetheless, very handsome. He isn't exactly of substansial size

[/i], but he's not as such small either. He's more of a medium sort of size.

Snowpool is, as his name suggests, white. He is small and poorly built, but quite handsome. His body is small and thin, but quite handsome. His fur is relatively thin, and blends in perfectly against snow. His remaining limbs are all rather long, and his tail was long. His paws are small, and his claws sharp. His nose and the insides of his ears are pink.[/blockquote][/justify]

Personality:

Snowpool is a cheerful, happy young cat. He loves to smile and to play with kits, and was always happy to clean out the elders' den as an apprentice, although this was meant to be a hated job. He respects the elders, since they served their Clan. The least they deserve is to be looked after well as they age.

There are two things Snowpool can't stand: Cats disrespecting ShadowClan and cats mocking other cats. By this, I mean that he has a strong sense of justice. He can't stand by and watch injustice, which doesn't mean that he'll walk off. It means that he'll step in and stop them. Cats disrespecting ShadowClan insults him no end. He doesn't care if ShadowClan are meant to be dark and dangerous. They're still his Clan.

He really doesn't care about his injuries. It doesn't have too much of an effect on his job, since he can always ask an apprentice for help, or borrow a warrior if he has a lot of jobs to do.

Want to know what he's really like, if you scrub all the smiles, and "Come back tomorrow if it doesn't stop hurting," and "There you are, three perfect little kits. I'll leave you to get to know them now, Greyflower, but don't hesitate to ask if you have a question," and "There, now. That didn't hurt so much, did it?"? Well, he's angry, enraged, cold and cruel. That's right. It's all part of his secret. His injuries were self-inflicted. He won't admit to the fact, but it's true.

There is one more thing to say about Snowpool: he is very watchful and observant. He can tell what's wrong with a cat just by looking at them, and he also knows when to get involved.

So there you have it. Snowpool, medicine cat of ShadowClan.

[/justify]

History:

23 moons ago, two kits, Cloudkit and Snowkit, were born to ShadowClan queen Whitecloud. But her mate was not a ShadowClan warrior. No, he wasn't. His name was Icepool, and he was a warrior of RiverClan. An interclan relationship. A sad one. Both cats and their kits were disowned by their families; only their closest friends managed to keep them sane. It really was a shame, because if they weren't disowned, then maybe Whitecloud mightn't have killed herself; maybe Icepool wouldn't have gone mad.

Maybe Snowpool's accident wouldn't have happened.

Snowkit and Cloudkit knew from an early age that they weren't the most popular cats in the Clan, but they didn't really care. They were happy with just each other for company, and they could laugh at the cats who mocked them. Their mother envied their ability to do this, because the opinions of her clanmates really mattered to her, and, although her best friend tried to tell her not to, she killed herself, throwing herself in to the lake.

The worst thing?

She wasn't really missed.

Snowkit snapped around that time. All the rage; the anger; the fear; that he had been feeling because of his family's harsh treatment of his mother, all pushed its way to the surface. And it wasn't good.

He somehow managed to sneak out of camp, and he got attacked by a fox. He barely managed to get back to camp before collapsing from a combination of bloodloss, fear, exhaustion and pain. He lived in the medicine cat's den until he reached six moons old, and that was when he decided.

He wanted to be the medicine cat.

It was funny, because he had never really paid that much attention to the medicine cat in the past. He just knew that she healed the Clan, and that she spoke to StarClan. But now, being the medicine cat seemed like the most interesting thing in the universe.

He asked the medicine cat, and she quickly agreed. She took him to the moonpool, and he became medicine cat apprentice of ShadowClan. He was very happy with his new rank, because he knew he could never be an elder. After all, his grandparents were elders now, and he hated them. They had driven his poor mother to suicide, and, in his mind, there was no greater crime than to drive one's own daughter to suicide and to leave her kits motherless in a rather... oh, how to put it... uncaring... Clan.

His training went well. He had a good memory for all things, and he learned well. And he never grew apart from his sister. They were still best friends, although the poor creature retreated in to herself, and wouldn't ever say a word.

His first battle. Ah, his first battle. The day that he became medicine cat of ShadowClan. The day that so many clanmates died. Including his gradparents. Not, however, including him and his sister.

The death toll also included his mentor.

His poor mentor.

Lying there so still on the blood-soaked ground with the enemy warrior walking away from her, muzzle soaked with blood, he felt that rage well up inside him again, but he pushed it down, and he could only press his head in to his sister's side and cry. It made both of the siblings sad. They had grown up with this cat looking after them, and now, just like that, she was gone.

But Snowpaw had a job to do.

He ran around- hobbled around- with Cloudpaw following him, carrying the herbs. He helped ShadowClan, and, from StarClan, his mentor was smiling at him. He was ready.

Snowpaw went to the moonpool that half-moon, and he was made full medicine cat of ShadowClan. He was... well, he wasn't happy, because he had lost his beloved mentor, but he was not-uphappy. He carried on as medicine cat, delievering ShadowClan's kits, helping his clanmates out should they become injured, and spending a lot of time with his sister. Certainly, they're closer than they ever were now.

[/justify]

Roleplay example:

"You're right, Snowpool. The sunset is beautiful here," Cloudstripe mewed gently. As much as she hated the place her mother had killed herself, she had to admit that this was the most beautiful sunset that she had ever seen. "You were right!" she giggled. "The medicine cat is always right, brother!"

Snowpool smiled to himself.

It was nice to see his sister so cheerful.

It was very nice.

He, on the other hand, was in a much less cheerful mood. He prodded at the lake with his remaining forepaw, slipping forwards a little so that he was lying down, staring at his reflection in the pool.

All of a sudden, it was replaced with his mentor. Snowpool wasn't so startled, though. He often saw his mentor at weird times, and in weird places. There had been weirder. Like the time he'd heard her voice- or thought he'd heard her voice- amongst a group of Twolegs, although that may just have been one of the twolegs. An uncanny similarity, certainly.

His mentor, he suddenly noticed, had a stern, grave expression on her dark face. Snowpool took a deep breath, rolled his eyes, and prepared for a lecture.

To his surprise, he didn't receive one.

"You are wrong, Snowpool," she said softly. "No cat is right all the time, not even the medicine cat. Not even StarClan."

"Sis," Snowpool mewed, turning around. Cloudstripe nodded, patting playfully at a butterfly. "No cat is right all the time, not even the medicine cat. Not even StarClan."

"I-I've never looked at it that way..." Cloudstripe was puzzled at this; her brother's serious expression, the fact that there was no light shining in his blue eyes as he got up and started making his slow way back to camp. She got up and rushed after him.

[/justify]

Other:

Don't ask what happened with the Description, there... "^_^

His song would be Airplanes, by B.O.B. feat Hayley Williams.

Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now
Wish right now, wish right now
Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now
Wish right now, Wish right now

Although it might be Waka Waka (This Time for Africa), by Shakira.

If you get down get up, oh oh
When you get down get up, eh eh
Tsamina mina zangalewa
This time for Africa
Tsamina mina, eh eh
Waka waka, eh eh
Tsamina mina zangalewa
Anawa a a
Tsamina mina, eh eh
Waka waka, eh eh
Tsamina mina zangalewa
This time for Africa

[/justify][/color][/size]

[sadiebutt]

Name:
Heavywhisker

Gender:
Tom

Age:
34 moons

Clan:
ShadowClan

Rank:
Medicine Cat

Apprentice:
Not yet

Love Interest:
Forbidden.

Kin:
Ferneyes- Mother StarClan
Thrushstorm- brother NPC
Fawntail- sister NPC
Newtclaw- Father NPC
Toadfang- half-brother NPC
Snakepelt- half-brother NPC



Description:
Heavywhisker has a light gray pelt with darker stripes and dapple. His fur is thick and long, making him very warm during Greenleaf. As it states in his name Heavywhisker is a weighty cat, he has problems resisting a nice juicy vole or mouse. Greenish amber eyes stare back at cats as they walk in and out of the medicine cats den. Broad shoulders match his thick legs and large head. Because of Heavywhisker’s weight and size he doesn’t step lightly on his paws and is forever lumbering about camp. His ears are large and pointed at the top, much like a lynxes would be.

Personality:
Quiet
Heavywhisker is extremely quiet, he rarely speaks and when he does he meows in a very low whisper. The only way to get him to speak loudly is to get him angry or frustrated. Even then his voice is hardly more than a growl.
Easily Frustrated
As he is not a great multi-tasker if things do not go according to plan he can get frustrated quickly. Even if one herb is misplaced he goes on a silent rampage, taking it out on himself or glaring down whatever misfortunate cat is near him.
Gentle
Even with his angry nature Heavywhisker is one of the gentlest cats in ShadowClan, his large paws and large body make it difficult not to squish into whatever cat he is treating but he tries his best. Heavywhisker doesn’t believe in fighting the other clans either, although he understands that sometimes it is necessary.
Faithful and Hopeful
While he doesn’t put much faith in other cats he trusts StarClan with his life and believes that with their help ShadowClan could be wiser than any other cat in the forest. On a regular basis he hopes that the cats he treats will heal well and be on their way to a speedy recovery.

Clumsy
More a larger than normal cat Heavywhisker trips over his own paws regularly, he runs straight into trees and always has his head in the clouds. He never quite understands how he didn’t see that thorn bush before he walked straight into it. All cats can do is shake their heads and laugh.

History:
Heavykit was born to Ferneyes and Newtclaw. As two respected warriors in ShadowClan their kits came as a blessing and a burden. Now that Ferneyes had kits she was no longer able to go out on hunting patrols, the place where she excelled. Newtclaw seemed always distracted he was forever thinking about his family in the nursery. Hunting patrols brought back less food although they still had much prey in their jaws upon returning and the borders had a few prey stealing rogues around. It was no big deal; everyone understood that the young cats were preoccupied.
In the nursery Heavykit towered over his small and dainty sister and Thrushkit was but a bit smaller than him. The toms wrestled on a frequent basis, rolling over other nests of mewling kits. The queens usually just gave them stern looks as Ferneyes kept them from leaving their nest but they scolded them when Ferneyes was too tired to care.
When it came time for the billings to become apprentices Ferneyes decided to go over the warrior code with them again but after a series of coughs she decided to go see the medicine cat instead. She asked Heavykit to go ask his father to tell them. The kits were about to become apprentices, so there was no harm in them padding out to camp was there? Heavykit did what he was told and padded out into camp, ignoring the glare from his brother. He couldn’t find Newtclaw and upon reaching the camp barrier caught a glimpse of him in the trees just outside camp. Making sure no cat was watching Heavykit slipped out of camp.
When he found his father he noticed another cat was with him. It was that pretty new warrior Heavykit had seen around camp recently. They were up to something, sharing tongues, whispering, and giggling wasn’t something a tom and a she-cat did every day. As Heavykit crouched behind a plant and tried to figure it out, a meow sounded from behind him. It surprised him and he jumped a few inches off the ground. Whipping around he saw his little sister, Fawnkit. Her previous meow had answered his silent question. “I think he loves her”
Nothing serious happened during Heavypaw’s apprenticeship. A few battles here and there, maybe a hunting patrol in the morning. The moons passed with ease, until his fifteenth moon. Then, Whitenose gave birth. Whitenose, the she-cat Heavypaw had seen all those moons ago with Newtclaw. After one look at Whitenose and another at Newtclaw Heavypaw and Fawnpaw figured it out, they had two half brothers.
This betrayal on Ferneyes’ part made Heavypaw rethink his life. He realized that he never wanted to know how it felt to be betrayed by the one you loved. This drove him to the medicine cats den, there he learned the herbs and to decipher messages from StarClan. He was not officially a medicine cat apprentice but the current Medicine cat enjoyed his company and was growing old. When the medicine cat decided it was time to take on an apprentice he came directly to Heavypaw. By this time Heavypaw was nineteen moons old, not the typical age to begin learning the ways of a medicine cat. But Heavypaw had it in his heart; he wished to serve his clan this way. Heavypaw had not started out wanting to be a medicine cat; really he just wanted to be as far away from the warriors den as he could. Ferneyes left her kits one day, atfer a battle the medicine cat had no time to save her. She joined her father and mother with the other starry cats in the sky.
Heavypaw was beginning to think he would never be a medicine cat; it was the day of his warrior’s ceremony. Everything had gone wrong, his father had forgotten about him, his mother was dead, and he wanted more than anything to be the next medicine cat. One can only imagine the happiness that filled every fiber of his being when his friend announced he would be ShadowClan’s next medicine cat.
The next few moons drifted passed sleepily, he learned much but he wasn’t prepared for what would come next. Two days after he received his full name his beloved mentor and great friend joined their starry ancestors in StarClan. Grief stricken he wouldn’t speak for days, but as he carried on with his duties as he should. Fawntail visited him as did Thrushstorm, they comforted their older brother but eventually they needed to carry on with their own duties and stopped spending endless amounts of time in the medicine cats den. It has been one moon since Heavywhisker’s mentor died, he still doesn’t know how he’ll take care of the sick without him.
Other:
Anything else you neglected to mention in the previous categories?

Roleplay Example:
Heavywhisker walked calmly through the forest looking for catmint, of course there was hardly any left. As a medicine cat it was his duty to look, even if all of the catmint was most likely gone to the frost. As usual Heavywhisker’s head was in the clouds and he wasn’t paying attention to what was in front of him. As he walked a series of events happened. One, Heavywhisker tripped on a tree branch sending him rolling down a slight incline. Two, when he stopped rolling he noticed that he was falling into a river that separated ShadowClan and RiverClan territory. Three, the river swept him away in the current. Heavywhisker sunk like a rock in the water, his weight and thick fur weighing him down. He knew he would drown if he stayed under the water long so his only hope was to head for the surface. It took only a few minutes of labor to reach the oxygen that lay in the world above but to Heavywhisker it seemed like hours. When the tom broke the surface he gasped for air, unfortunately his mouth was still half way in the water. He sucked down the water and came all the way up spluttering and gasping for pure air. The current continuously swept him forward. Only for a moment did he see two cats by the river before he went under again. One of the RiverClan cats dismissed the drowning cat; he didn’t believe that they needed to save the other cat. The other recognized Heavywhisker and rushed to his recue. After a few minutes of hauling a large and weighty cat to shore she too collapsed on the shore gasping for air. The only thing Heavywhisker had to meow was “I’m so clumsy aren’t I?” between breaths.

[Thyme]

Name: Marshfoot
Gender: Tom
Age: 42 moons
Clan: ShadowClan
Rank: Medicine Cat
Love Interest: Not allowed
Kin:
Father – unknown
Mother – Lucy, loner (NPC)
Brother – Longstripe, deceased (NPC)
Sister – Grasstail (NPC)

Description:
Marshfoot is without a doubt a proud cat; proud of his position, of his Clan, of his accomplishments; and he portrays himself in a way that reflects this fierce pride. He expertly flourishes respect with every step, and if he isn’t given it he isn’t afraid to enforce it. He has no qualms about speaking his mind. His tail is often held erect or at least parallel to the ground, his ears pricking forward, and his head high and still. After years of holding this position, his unmistakable gait and pose is a common and instantly recognizable site through camp, and is learned quickly by the Clan’s kits as well as any newcomers.

His pelt is best described as a smoky-black, and is quite the muddy mix of various dark tones. It has enough color to fill up a Twilight Zone episode, which, although not a vibrant assortment, certainly has class. Indeed, one might almost expect him to be the sort who might find tipping one’s hat to be an entertaining hobby. He carries himself with the practiced ease of a professional millionaire philanthropist without the generosity. Darker areas where his fur draws closest to being black are evident on his head as well as his legs, and his tail, thick and long, has faint tabby markings. His stomach is the lightest, being a soft grey-white color, and has darker spotting.

Dark amber almond-shaped eyes peer confidently from a broad, angled head. One of his ears, his left, is tattered and chewed from a previous ThunderClan encounter. He bears various other scars scattered across his body, the most noticeable is the thick slash on his left shoulder. His muzzle is also slightly longer than normal through some odd, hidden trait that wasn’t apparent in his mother. It could have been something in his father’s genetics, but that is impossible to figure out do to the unknown identity of his father.

Personality:
As I have more than made note of in the previous section, and as something that I will probably state again, Marshfoot features an unmatchable sense of pride. This is mildly a self-pride, but more so a pride for his position. He is perfectly happy to be a medicine cat; as he can act like any rough-nosed warrior, freely wander around “collecting herbs”, and has his own den to boot. However, he does have a deep envy for the Clan leaders. Yes, all of them, not just ShadowClan’s. It is not the position he craves, but the lives. He would never want to run a Clan, Marshfoot has watched and seen how quickly leaders age; he’s seen the difficulties they’ve faced from disloyal Clans, angry neighbors, and harsh seasons. He has no desire whatsoever to take on these responsibilities. Call him cowardly, envious, or just plain greedy, but the truth is that Marshfoot would give half his whiskers and his better ear to claim nine lives of his own. This outrageous, ambitious, and secret wish is something that seems to eat away at his conscience, reminding him every now and again that he could never actually receive his yearning.

Marshfoot is a cat that you do not want to get in the way of. He knows what he’s doing, he knows the best way to get things done, and he won’t allow another cat to sway his decisions. Try and suggest a different remedy for whitecough and he’ll claw your ears off, cool as you please, before finally rejecting your idea. Then, depending on how badly you’re bleeding, he might offer you something to sooth the pain, because by this point you’ve likely learned your lesson and won’t try again. So yes, he does feel a sense of duty to his Clanmates, although he may not like them. By no means does he feel a respect for any of them, except maybe Rainstar. He views himself as more of an individual on the side instead of a warrior tightly-woven into Clan life, and in this, he does see freedom.

He has a particular mixture of herbs that he himself takes on a regular basis. He claims that it is to help his prematurely arthritic joints, and to calm his highly active mind. Whether or not this is true is something that is debated, but never pursued. He’s certain that since he’s told them once they clearly don’t believe him, and he refuses to waste his time pushing a pointless cause. Therefore, he lets them talk, and continues to cheerfully chew his herbs. The exact herbs in the mixture are unknown, and it’s likely that he changes them around occasionally to experiment and find a better concoction. Whatever it is, he keeps a large, constant supply of all his seasonal herbs, even ensuring large portions of dried catmint throughout leaf-bare.

A highly intelligent and creative cat, Marshfoot also has no problems sharing his tales of bravado with his patients. Luckily, he doesn’t often feel the need to relate what most of the Clan believes to be tall tales. And if asked, he certainly won’t tell, as he doesn’t respond to requests, often replying that he is nothing like a songbird; needing more than a little nudge to begin chattering freely. Instead, he’ll visit and revisit his stories in his head, perfecting them until ready to convey what he always claims to be true.

History:
About 40 moons ago a heavily pregnant loner stumbled into the ShadowClan camp. She was weak, undernourished, and close to giving birth. The ShadowClan leader at the time, acknowledging this, grudgingly allowed her to stay at least for a brief time. She was housed in a cluster of tall, boggy reeds just outside the nursery, as the Clan queens were uncertain of the newcomer. Sure enough, the loner, named Lucy, gave birth within a few days, and although she was still very frail at the time, managed to deliver three healthy kits. There was one grey tom, a shadowy black tom, and a little tabby girl. They were left unnamed for a little over a moon before one of the Clan’s queens stepped in and demanded them to be given names. Lucy responded indifferently with a tired shrug, replying that the Clan queen could name them if she really wanted. The queen was surprised that a cat wouldn’t want to name her own kits, but went ahead and did so, naming them following the Clan’s traditional methods. She named them Longkit, Grasskit, and Marshkit, although their late naming and possibly their rogue origins resulted in no actual ceremony.

Because she was not a Clan cat, the queens curiously asked her about who the father might be. They did in part to find out if there were any rogues in the area to be concerned about, but mostly this was in order to get their teeth in a bit of fresh gossip. To their disappointment, Lucy claimed, rather believably, that she didn’t know just who the father might be, as she had seen quite a few recently. It could have been any of them, and Lucy tiredly stood by her story, insisting that she didn’t know for sure which tom had fathered the kits.

When the kits were around two moons old and weaned Lucy left, leaving them in the paws of the Clan. Although a trace of her scent lingered on ShadowClan territory for a brief time afterward, she quickly disappeared from the forest. Longkit, Grasskit, and Marshkit grew up fostered by the kind ShadowClan queens, and it was decided that they would be trained as ShadowClan warriors like any other Clan-born cat. At this age, the three kits weren’t even sure what to make of the whole situation, only that their mother was gone. During the nights they slept alongside their adopted brothers and sisters in the nursery, where the queens were more than welcoming. They would hear the queens whispering amongst themselves, and if the kits knew it was their disowning mother they were talking about, they never said anything or asked questions. The kits simply accepted where they were, tussling playfully with the other ShadowClan kits, admiring the senior warriors, sharing aspirations to be great warriors, deputies, and leaders.

Upon reaching six moons the kits received their apprentice names and mentors. Marshpaw was assigned to Reedfur, a snarky, demanding older she-cat. At first the new apprentice resented his mentor, for she pushed him harder than what seemed fair, especially compared to his siblings’ considerably more relaxed mentors. Each evening he would return to the apprentice’s den exhausted from a day of difficult tasks, watch his siblings chatter happily away, and then fall into a restful sleep. His anger smoldered for several moons as he went through his training in a constant state of unhappiness. It was only as he stood to face the rest of the Clan as the newly named Marshfoot that he saw Reedfur watching him with a pleased, proud, and loving expression. At first look he was confused – no way could his prickly mentor have the capacity to even feel that way – but he realized that she truly was proud of him. In that moment, he understood her entirely, and also discovered, to his surprise, that he had a deep respect for her.

As a warrior, Marshfoot found that he had more time than he knew what to do with. In order to pass the monotony that were days, he spent much of it thinking up stories of which he was the hero. The warrior would wander around the woods, gazing out across the borders, mostly working through his stories to perfect them. It was on one of these strolls that he discovered a sweet, irresistible smell coming from just over the ThunderClan border. His curiosity was greater than his common sense and he soon found himself falling into a state of bliss unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Forgetting everything with a flick of a tail, he let himself sink into the moment. It didn’t seem like very long before a heavy swat to his head shocked him out of his delight. Stunned, Marshfoot scrambled to his feet, but was hauled back down by an angry ThunderClan patrol. He clawed at his attackers; three bulky cats; but tempers were short, and mercy even shorter. When he managed to flee back across the border, he was bleeding from multiple scratches and bite wounds. One ear had been mangled and his shoulder had a deep cut. Limping and stinging with pain, the tom made it back to camp where he lived in the medicine cat’s den for about a quarter moon. Throughout his treatment he couldn’t help but think of the delicious feeling that came with that sweet herb; it was a lurking thought in his mind.

When the current medicine cat requested a new apprentice, Marshfoot wasn’t the first to volunteer. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to give up his life as a warrior and devote himself to learning an entirely new field. The herb resurfaced in his mind, gently tugging him in a different direction, and he had no choice but to follow. The medicine cat claimed to receive a sign from StarClan approving the choice, and just like that, Marshfoot began a whole new journey. After only four moons as an apprentice the medicine cat died, leaving Marshfoot as the lone healer for the Clan. Overwhelmed with his new responsibilities, Marshfoot again returned to the woods, leaving camp for long periods. With the border dispute going on, ShadowClan needed it’s medicine cat more than ever, and many cats began to doubt his ability. No cat said anything to him directly until his brother; Longstripe accosted him in his den and told him to get himself in shape. They couldn’t have a useless medicine cat, he insisted. Marshfoot straightened up after that, and spent most of his time in his den, experimenting with different herbs and roots to create better medicines.

While ShadowClan and ThunderClan squabbled fiercely over territories, Marshfoot lost his brother, Longstripe, in the constant battles. He and his remaining sibling, Grasstail, mourned together over their dead kin. Their sorrow was short-lived as Mudstar ordered the warriors of the Clan into battle again and again. Countless other lives were cut short throughout this time, leaving Marshfoot in a constantly sullen state; irritable and short-tempered. He dutifully cared for his Clan, as per his orders. When the battles died down, and he shuttled the last cat out of his den, his mood returned to the proud, snarky attitude he’d unknowingly adopted from his mentor. He has been relatively pleasant since then, or at the very least tolerable to be around for short periods.

Other: Nothing I can think of.

Roleplay Example:
“Marshfoot, I need to talk to you.” Longstripe’s voice echoed slightly in the den as he peered into the shadows. “Marshfoot?” he asked again, stepping further inside. The grey tom’s ears flicked forward as he heard a soft shuffling, and a smile crossed his face when he saw the dark figure of his brother appear.
“Yes?” Marshfoot meowed rather gruffly, not nearly so eager to see his brother. The fur on his shoulders bristled, but in a tired, irritated manner, not as an aggressive stance. Clearly the tom was stressed, and this knowledge bothered Longstripe. His brother sighed and sat down in the entrance of the cave. Marshfoot paused where he was, hesitant, waiting for his brother to speak. He was unsure of what this was all about, but was more than keen on ending this discussion before it started.

Longstripe mulled over his choice of words. Sure, he’d played the whole scene out in his head before, but now, when the time came for confrontation, his mind had gone blank. “Well, you know how we’ve been having these border troubles.” He began slowly, drawing out the ‘well’ as his voice flew up and down in pitch. “Mudstar has been jumping at every chance to send us into battle and quite frankly, you’re not fulfilling your role. I know this was just dumped on you, but you have to do better. Doing anything would be better at this point.” The tom concluded, his voice finished firmly, but his golden eyes were pleading.

Marshfoot’s ears flattened against his head as his brother continued, anger roaring up deep in his chest. “You think I’m not a good medicine cat?” he growled, nostrils flaring. “Do you think you could do better? Great StarClan, you’re supposed to support me. You’re my brother!” His long tail lashed indignantly behind him. He could hardly retain his fury at feeling betrayed by his own kin. How could Longstripe call him a poor medicine cat? Didn’t he realize how difficult this was? Wait. Marshfoot blinked in realization, confusion flickering over his face. Ears flattened again, this time in shame, although his fur still rose stiffly above his shoulders. His tail drooped and he finally succumbed to the truth in his brother’s words, sinking to the floor of the den. Paws splayed on the ground and the tom lay still, cheek resting on the cool stone. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled softly, muzzle pressing into the ground. He suddenly felt too tired to even move, much less look at his brother, who simply watched him go through these motions.

A warm, gentle gust of air carrying the solid, comforting scent of his brother; the second scent he’d known in the world. This was the scent he’d instantly recognize, the only one he’d feel safe with if he was completely blinded and lost in the dark. Although his mother’s was long forgotten, he clung dearly to what little connections he had. His brother’s shape pressed against his side, comforting him in a way he didn’t think could anymore. Surely such simple reassuring methods were meant to only work on kits. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, just lay there and let his brother help him finish the journey he thought he’d been sentenced to make alone. It was such a lonely existence, one he assumed he’d been doomed to live as until StarClan came to claim him. Now he could see that he was not alone, not in all aspects, not completely.

A long period lapsed in the quiet, fragrant cave. Marshfoot felt his brother’s tongue rasp gently over his mangled ear with all the kindness of a queen with her kit. He closed his eyes.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

[Sporelett]

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