Post by aydlex on Apr 3, 2014 23:35:52 GMT
Name: Willowheart
Age: 68
Clan: Thunderclan
Rank: Caretaker
|Mother - Sundance | Father - Berrycoat |
|Barkface | *Sparrowsong | *Lightfang | **Lilypaw |
|Mentor - Bramblefur |
|Mate - n/a |
|Kits - n/a |
Appearance
Summary: A chocolate furred Abyssinian, with large golden eyes. He has a few faint scars on his face from a particularly bad fight during his apprenticeship.
Eyes: Willowheart's eyes are rather large, curving ever so slightly upwards at their outer corners, giving them an almond shape. The colour is a warm golden tone, with flecks of brighter honey streaked through their depths. His gaze is always alert, as it must be when taking care of many rambunctious kits, but holds a softness normally found in the eyes of a parent.
Pelt: The fur of Willowheart's coat is short and luxurious to the touch. However, despite his efforts to keep it clean and neat, he can never seem to get the back to lay flat, making it seem that he's just been startled. His fur is ticked with a mix of three colours, the base coat being a soft cream. The ticking starts with a soft red-brown, spreading over his entire body, but much fainter on his chin. The third colour in his fur is a soft mocha, cascading down his back, growing fainter as it spreads over his sides, almost completely absent from his chest and belly. A black streak follows his spine, down to the tip of his tail, painting it completely.
Build: Everything about Willowheart is long and elegant. His ears are large and pointed, always flicking about his head as he attempts to keep track of all the mischief that goes on around him. His body is slender and lean from years running after troublesome kits, and a general lack of care for himself. His tail is long, unusually so, and is often used as a toy by particularly bold kits. His paws seem a tad small for his frame, giving him an odd gait.
Personality
Likes: Willowheart loves kits. Everything about kits. From the way they look, tiny little balls of fluff, to the adorable sounds they make when first learning to talk. He's also become quite fond of the scent of Borage flowers, as he works quite a lot with the plant.
Dislikes: The tom can't stand not knowing where the kits in his care are. He's particularly neurotic about counting them, to make sure he's not missing anyone. While his job requires him to make frequent visits to the Medicine Cat's Den, he hates being in there. He doesn't see it as a place of healing, but as a place of pain, sickness and death. It makes him thoroughly uncomfortable to be in the den.
Fears: His greatest fear, the one that gives him sleepless nightmares, is that one day he'll miscount, he'll miss a kit, and they'll die because of it.
Goals: Willowheart's goal is to prevent all unnecessary kit death until he is too old and feeble to help anyone any longer. If something else should come his way before then, he'll welcome it.
General: Willowheart has always been a gentle soul, more interested in the beginning of life and early childhood than the violence of warrior life. Becoming a Caretaker was his path from a very young age, his compassion almost limitless, his will to help tireless. Though however kind you may believe this cat, the tom does have his limits. When his temper flares, it roars with a fire rarely seen from the meek tom, and while he may not resort to violence, he will verbally tear into those who cross him. He's also resigned himself to the reality that he may never have kits himself, nearing 70 moons, and still without a mate. This bothers him very little, as he works with kits every day, but there's always a pang of jealousy that the kits are not his.
History
Background: Sundance had always been radiant, in her appearance and in spirit. Her presence brought a smile on to the face of all those she came across. None more so than Berrycoat, who had been smitten with the she-cat since their apprenticeship days. Sundance had always known, but found herself enjoying the added attention, the subtle innuendo of their conversations, the stares between them that spoke volumes more than their words ever could. She waited, patiently, until Berrycoat grew courageous enough to approach her in the questions of mates.
Kithood: Willowkit was a curious child, and forever tormented his mother and the current Caretaker with questions. His brother Bark-kit used to find immense joy in playing with the other, as it was an almost guarantee that Willowkit would lose any game they chose to play. He simply wasn't strong enough to keep up with his elder brother. As Bark-kit grew tired of easy wins and moved on to playing with the other kits, Willowkit drew closer to the Caretaker, Bramblefur. The older she-cat, while finding the kit endearing, often could not spend as much time as she would have liked with him, as her duties kept her on her toes. That didn't stop Willowkit from following her around as best he could most of the time.
Apprenticeship: From day one, it was clear that Willowpaw was not happy being a warrior's apprentice. Yes, he was a decent hunter, but anything requiring fighting seemed to put the tom in a foul mood. His mentor was frequently short with him, and his parents were disappointed that he seemed to not take his training seriously. Willowpaw had only been a miserable moon into his warrior training when Bramblefur stated she wanted him as an apprentice. With the blessing of his mentor, Willowpaw became the Caretaker's Apprentice. Much happier in this role, the tom threw himself into learning all he could from the older she-cat, endearing himself to the Queens, who were quite thankful to have such enthusiastic help. While he was still forced to learn combat, Bramblefur framed it in the light of protection, rather than aggression. He would need to know how to protect the Queens and Kits if a threat should present itself. Barkface, who achieved his full name far earlier than his brother, often jeered at the young tom, delighting in the anger he could illicit from his brother. It came to a sudden stop when Willowpaw initiated a brutal fight, and Barkface came to find his once smaller brother had grown considerably. So much so that he could competently hold his own against his brother. He still lost, but not before both cats sustained many painful injuries, Barkface coming out with half a torn left ear. For a few days after, Willowpaw became self loathing, hating that he had such bitterness inside him to cause such injuries to another cat, even one so aggravating as his brother, repulsed him. He vowed to himself that, no matter what words were traded, he would never become violent towards another cat unless they threatened his clan.
Caretaker Moons: It was a proud day for Willowpaw and his parents when Bramblefur announced his accession from her apprentice, to the clan's new Caretaker. He was named Willowheart for his compassion towards others, and he accepted the name graciously. Bramblefur stayed with him a moon longer, making sure he became situated properly in his new responsibility, before she left for the Elder's den. She had grown grey with age, and could no longer keep up with the kits under her care. Willowheart was saddened to see her leave the nursery, but knew it was time, and excelled in his new position. Willowheart hasn't made many close friends outside of the most frequent of Queens, as much of his time was spent either in the nursery, or running around collecting food and medicine for the Queens and kits.
RP Sample
It was no use. No matter how much he ran, scratching at trees in frustration, he couldn't rid himself of this horrid anger. It burned through him like fire over his skin, his fur raising up in discomfort on his shoulders as it spread through him, stomach roiling in painful waves as it fed his anger. Worst of all, he couldn't separate himself from the source of his vexation. If this was a problem one could walk away from, he'd be fine. No, the problem was with him. It was him, it always had been. Today had just seen it all come to light.
He'd always known he'd make a terrible apprentice. It had honestly been a shock to him when he was made apprentice to Hawkfeather. The she-cat had looked particularly upset to be burdened with him. That's exactly what he was, a burden. A burden on his mentor, his parents, on the entire clan. A low growl rumbled in his chest, striking at a tree with claws out, leaving deep white gashes in it's bark. Sure, he could attack a helpless tree, but force him to hurt another cat, and he was next to useless! He continued his assault, knowing deep down that none of it would ease the anger.
Exhausted, broken, Willowpaw collapsed, his chest riding in heavy pants. He was still burning inside, the anger hadn't lessened in the least. He wanted to lash out at himself, tear himself to bits. He'd be better used as sustenance for the wild animals, anyway. There was silence in his head for moment, thinking over that one thought. Maybe… maybe it would be better for everyone if he simply left. Hawkfeather could spend her time training a worthy apprentice, his parents wouldn't need to look at him with such disappointment. And he'd be away from Barkpaw. Sure, he'd miss being around his clan, but it really was for the best.
Could he live on his own? He'd need to leave the clan lands, beyond the reach of star clan. A pang of guilt went through him, eyes cast up to the sky. His ancestors had fought and died so that he may live in these lands, under their watchful gaze, and he was contemplating throwing it all away. A deep shame swept over him, mingling with the anger and self loathing, the tom curling in on himself. His ancestors must be so ashamed of him, a cat of the clans refusing to become a warrior. He could imagine their angry, burning eyes glaring down at him from the stars, their faces twisted in snarls.
"Starclan… I'm sorry. I-I don't know what to do." He felt like a kit again, pitifully trying not to wail out in fear and despair as a storm raged through the night. He shook with the effort of keeping it held back, only the faintest of screams escaping.
"I don't know what to do…"
