Post by Cartouche_ on Jan 3, 2008 2:13:15 GMT -5
Name
Crowberry
Age
Thirty-eight moons
Rank
Medicine Cat
Clan
BoneClan
Physical Description
Crowberry is a rather bland cat in terms of shading. His entire pelt is black- thus his name. His ebony coat is rather dull in tone, and doesn't quite reflect the light. As if to make up for his lack of real colour, Crowberry is built rather uniquely. This tom is tall, and tends to look down on cats whether he wants to or not. And despite being healthy enough, Crowberry is bony. Thin- rather than just lanky. As a young tom, he looked sickly constantly. Since then he has only bulked up enough to look hungry rather than starving.
The tom's perhaps odd appearance is countered by his visage. To some- at least. Crowberry's face is structured gauntly. His left ear is tattered, making him look more like a warrior than medicine cat. Otherwise, his face is unmarred, if a little sharp. Like his namesake avian, the tom has small, beady, dark eyes that seem to fixate on things. Pale, thick, whiskers sprout from both above his eyes and from the sides of his oddly pointed muzzle. A small tuft of long fur stands out from his short pelt on his chin. This adds to his strange appearance, and to most he looks a little studious, if ragged.
Personality
Although pensive, Crowberry can act decidedly odd at times. He has a habit of repeating things to himself as he work- one that most of the Clan have grown accustomed to. He is aware of it, though- the medicine cat claims that echoing himself helps him work better. In times of sickness, or whenever else he's under pressure, Crowberry easily grows impatient and snappy. He usually does not seem threatening, aside from his height, but can act so if others are counting on it.
Considering his position, Crowberry can be surprisingly unfeeling at times. He will only encourage his 'patients' if they are suffering, and is quite unbothered by the sight or stench of blood. He maintains that 'if it hurts, I'm not going to tell them otherwise'. Indeed, he is a rather practical tom. He has been called rude in the past for being honest with wounded cats, but rarely takes offense to any such comments. Crowberry's talent lies in medicine and words- as a result, he sometimes acts condescendingly around warriors. It hasn't helped his reputation much, but those who know him well rarely receive such treatment.
At the very least, the medicine cat knows his stuff. Growing up and living in BoneClan has provided him with a good knowledge of a cat's structure. He doesn't like it when his knowledge is questioned, as he was quite fond of his mentor, and took her death quite hard. Any words against her or her unusual methods of teaching easily upset him. Fortunately, almost nobody really suspected anything of her, so nobody mentions it. Indeed, if Crowberry is loyal to somebody, he's loyal until the day he dies.
History
Blackstreak was certainly not the prettiest she-cat around, but the tom Ebonyfur showed obvious interest in her. For some moons, the two senior warriors flirted, although they put a lot of emphasis on poking fun at each other. A strange courtship indeed- between an odd couple. Ebonyfur was not far from retiring, and a well-respected warrior. Blackstreak was an ex-kittypet- also aging- who had always been the rough, hotheaded type. A few cats had been scratched after pointing out her heritage. Their match was odd, but it was evident both were in love.
Yet by the time she was pregnant, she seemed to have changed her mannerisms. She was no longer the fierce, defensive ex-kittypet. Still a little fierce, maybe- but she became far kinder. Motherly, almost. Ebonyfur and Blackstreak remained friends, but drifted apart. When the kits where born, there were two live ones, and a third, stillborn. Ebonyfur named his son Crowkit, and Blackstreak named her daughter Ravenkit. Not the most doting names, but descriptive ones- for both kits were dark-furred, with dark eyes.
As the kits grew, their parents drifted apart. Ebonyfur was badly wounded by a rogue, and spent many moons in the medicine cat's den. The two kits didn't visit often, as his wounds, although not life-threatening, were quite painful. Instead, they spent some time with the medicine cat. Little Crowkit was sent to her many times, given his sickly appearance, and they became acquainted. Blackstreak finally came to believe he was alright after four moons, although he was still gaunt and a little unwieldy, given his height. By the time he was six moons old, the young tom looked several moons older than he was, and could have gotten away with leaving the camp had nobody known him. Although he was poorly co-ordinated, the young tom was mentored along with his sister, who was a proficient bug-hunter by that point.
Misfortune befell Crowpaw's mentor within a week. he tumbled off the Foggy Cliff during the night, and his body took some hours to find. A few cats believed the tom had been secretly meeting with a she-cat from another Clan, but Crowpaw spoke out against these accusations. few cats cared to approach the body, however, and eventually the medicine cat was called upon to bury the unfortunate tom alone. Crowpaw, still loyal to his mentor of four days, tagged along. Although the medicine cat, Smallstep, was at first afraid the apprentice was too young to see such a badly destroyed cat.
But Crowpaw seemed to have little trouble. All he saw was his mentor, and he helped the medicine cat digs a shallow grave to push the dead cat into. It took some time, given the fact both were rather small in stature, and this was when Crowpaw first realized where his 'true calling' lay. He wasn't too fond of getting the blood on his paw, but there was no doubt he wasn't at all bothered by the dealing with the dead tom. Smallstep was a little worried hat perhaps Crowpaw might be dangerous because of his apparent indifference. The tom, however, more or less reassured her by saying a long, rather impressive final farewell to his mentor.
When they returned to camp, Smallstep brought the apprentice to the leader. The discussion was brief, and the two cats walked out mentor and apprentice. Crowberry has never looked back since that day. They visited the Moonlit ravine the following day, and the bond was approved by StarClan.
In the following moons, the two grew close. Neither were too socially gifted, but with each other speaking was easy. Ravenpaw, in the meantime, was becoming a strong hunter and fighter. Ebonyfur had retired to the elders' den, having been crippled by his wounds. Blackstreak was back in the warriors' den, although seemed to be in ailing health. In her final days, Crowpaw got to see his mother often, as she spent these days in his mentor's den. They had never been particularly close, and Crowpaw didn't waste more than a few days grieving.
Blackstreak passed away in leaf-bare, and the ground was too hard to bury her in. Smallstep decided to keep the dead she-cat by the bone fence. When Crowpaw was twelve moons old, his mentor took him to see his mother. After explaining to him the significance of the event, Smallstep used her claws to cut open the frozen she-cat. Crowpaw was dizzy fro a few minutes, but remained silent as his mentor explained to him the contents of the corpse. In no great detail, of course- cats are only so knowledgeable- but definitely more than most ethical medicine cats would know.
This one-time change in teaching method bound the two- Smallstep would be outlawed, no doubt, if her apprentice revealed what she had done. Crowpaw, however, was nearly done his apprentice ship. Smallstep found herself without anything left to teach, and Crowpaw was without anything to learn. It was soon new-leaf, and Blackstreak's corpse was little more than bones- real crows had done their job. Life was rather boring.
Until one day. Smallstep, after meeting the other medicine cats with her apprentice at the ravine, got a little close to Crowpaw. They were alone, and Smallstep almost seemed to be walking into him. She whispered in his ear- telling him he would be given his 'warrior' name by the next moon. Although she quickly moved away afterwords, both of them knew that she had not leaned in just to whisper. Yes; the air between them was different following that.
For one moon, they remained mentor and apprentice. Crowpaw didn't speak about what had happened, and Smallstep said nothing. They went to the Moonlit ravine again, and the apprentice was formally named Crowberry- honouring his position as a medicine cat, given the usefulness of berries in the trade. This time, the two cats, without speaking, decided to take the long way back. They padded slowly, very close. Indeed, there's no wondering what may have happened if Ravenpelt hadn't padded forth from the darkness to face them.
Now, understand that Ravenpelt, despite all her great skill as a warrior, was a little jealous of her brother. He was the only real family she had left, and somehow, Ravenpelt had come to blame Smallstep. She had noticed things here and there- odd looks and the like- and drawn her own conclusions. Even though she had really only wanted to congratulate her brother on his new title, Ravenpelt snapped at that moment.
After some frighteningly accurate accusations, the dark she-cat leaped for Smallstep- who certainly was not a very good fighter- but was knocked aside by Crowberry. An oncoming monster hit her as she rose to her paws. Although she was still alive when she landed, the monster stopped. A twoleg left from its belly, and walked over to inspect the she-cat, who was unconscious. Crowberry and Smallstep watched from the bushes, frightened. After a moment, the twoleg returned to the monster, Ravenpelt in its clutches.
The two medicine cats were quick to return to Camp. The shock of the she-cat's abduction was enough to make them ignore her accusations and report it to the leader. Nothing could be done- of course- and the leader waited until morning to announce their loss. Crowberry and Smallstep spent some time talking quite openly later that day by the Foggy Cliff. If Ravenpelt had noticed, perhaps another warrior had? If they brought their concerns to the leader, here was little doubt the pair would be punished, and perhaps banished. Although they were still very much 'together', in camp they were guarded and quiet. Five moons passed.
When Crowberry was twenty-three moons old, yet another cat close to him died. And not easily, either. Smallstep- who had been closer to him than any other cat, and to whom he was quite devoted- was searching for catnip. A twoleg walking with its huge mutt let it off of its vine in a back yard. Smallstep fought hard- dog blood was found beneath her sharp claws. Even a fully-trained, senior warrior would have lost a fight with the beast. Smallstep was only a peaceful, untrained, small-boned she-cat. Although he wasn't the one to find her, Crowberry sprinted to her body as soon as he heard the news. She had crawled beneath the twoleg fence, but had died within a few moments, no doubt. the tom- now the Clan's medicine cat, wouldn't let anybody near her body for a little while. the leader, understanding, bid the rest of the Clan to wait for the tom. Even if they didn't know the she-cat was pregnant- which they certainly didn't- they understood that the two were very close.
For some weeks, the tom was sullen. If you though he looked thin and unwell before, no doubt you would have thought him at the roots of StarClan during that low time. Clan life carried on, but the occasional hunting wound was kept personal. for the time, nobody really wanted to talk to Crowberry- he acted angry and vindictively towards almost everybody.
But all things come to pass. Crowberry definitely didn't forget Smallstep- he never will- yet the Clan needed him. The tom began his mending process by visiting his father, who was now well into his eightieth moon. The two toms were almost strangers, but they grew to know each other. Ebonyfur was old, and would probably die within the year, but at the time, Crowberry needed him, and he finally played father to his only remaining kit.
After some five moons, Ebonyfur's health began to fall. Crowberry was certainly not happy, but his father assured him that he had lived a full life and was ready to pass on. Crowberry moved his father into his den, where they shared many tales. Indeed, most were from Ebonyfur. Crowberry was perfectly happy to just listen. When the younger tom was thirty moons old, his father passed on.
A tragic life? Maybe. In the last while, Crowberry has simply done his job. No more distractions- of any kind- were let to him. The death of his father left him without any kin, but Crowberry believes it was for the best, seeing as Ebonyfur provided support when his son needed it. Although he may not have been the best father out there, Crowberry staunchly defends his memory as much as he defends Smallstep's.
Crowberry spent the next few moons tending to the ill and performing his duties. Though by no means old, the tom has begun to give thoughts of an apprentice. Not of finding one, but rather fearing the idea of having one. His own apprenticeship was fraught with some bad choices and strange teachings, and Crowberry fears that he may not be a good teacher if need be.
Role Play Example
From another site.
. The tom leaped lightly, landing on a rounded stone that jutted from the mountainside. His ears twitched as his claws struggled for a hold, the scraping sound of claw on stone uncomfortable to be around. Mudtail found a strong footing after a few seconds, although his hind legs remained tense, ready to spring. He wasn't that far above StormClan camp, but a tumble from here certainly would not leave him unscathed. He squinted down, trying to see the camp. Only rocky ledges, however, filled his view, and the tom felt a little concerned- only for a moment, however. The day, if gloomy, was still warm. The breeze, too, was not bad as long as you kept to the cliff face. Indeed, Mudtail felt decidedly jolly.
. Looking up, the warrior was surprised to see there were no obstacles for the next few feet, and that his balancing act on the rock wasn't necessary. He looked around, trying to assure himself that his ego could remain intact. His large, yellow eyes would have looked like an owl's if it were night, but alas, they only looked bright and round in the day. Mudtail, satisfied he was currently alone on his walk up the mountainside, stepped on to the dirt before him. A few disconcerting pebbles slid down, and Mudtail hurriedly moved up. For the next few moments, the brown tabby carried on upwards, huffing and puffing once or twice as he dragged himself over a ledge. His fur was quite heavy- or was it him? The young warrior chuckled, trying to recall when he had last been on such a strenuous trip.
. Finally, it seemed the handsome tabby was happy with were he was at. He sat for several minutes, waiting for his breath catch up with him. Even in good health, Mudtail didn't seem to be particularly fit, however trim he was. The long-furred tom sighed, allowing himself a sentimental moment as he looked out over the expanses of the world. Perhaps his own insignificance crossed his mind, but if it did, it didn't show in his bright demeanour. very slowly, the tom began to sink to his stomach. Whatever inspiration had got him to climb up the mountain (not that he was at the top: StarClan knows how long that would take), it was gone now. Mudtail was soon seated on the ledge, sphinx-like in appearance as a brooding look came over his features, perhaps to match the weather. Even though the sun was hidden by gray, dark clouds, most could tell it was moon high- nap time, as far as he was concerned.
. Yet sleep would not come easily to the tom. He was used to taking poppy seeds before he slept, and it seemed on this occasion, his body refused to just lay down and rest. One hind leg was falling asleep, but that was all. In order to stretch it, the tom spread out, his back legs no longer tucked in beneath him. From any moderate distance, it would look as if he had fallen from a great height and landed, spread-eagle, on the cool rock ledge. Despite not being able to sleep, Mudtail figured his time up here was worth enjoying. The air was still warm enough to be just perfect, and a content look slowly came to his face, his eyes half-closed. Yes, this was, for the time being, Mudtail's own little heaven.
Other
Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm not on my usual computer and it's late xD
