Post by Mousenose on Jun 27, 2013 1:27:50 GMT
Behind the Name
MOUSE- for his small size and tabby brown pelt, the color of a common field mouse
NOSE- for his sensitive nose, which he frequently complains about
Personality
“No, see, that’s wrong. You need to reason it out more. It works like this…”
Intelligent and a critical thinker, it was easy to see why Mousenose was appointed his position. In terms of raw intelligence alone he’s one of the brightest, though the tom is lacking in wisdom and occasionally common sense. He also takes joy in picking apart both his own and the thoughts of others, which he feels is necessary but can often get on the nerves of his clanmates. Despite these shortcomings, Mousenose is sharp-minded, quick to pick up new concepts and ideas, always has a plan in mind… and he sure knows it.
“Can I do that? Of course I can do that. Is that even a real question?”
Confident to the point of borderline arrogance, and with just a touch of teasing condescension, Mousenose might not come off as a particularly likeable cat at first. His better friends (though few and far between) will know that in spite of this, the brown tom really does mean well even if he doesn’t express it in the most obvious of ways. It just takes a little effort to see through his outer personality to see that yes, he does care about cats other than himself. In dire times, he can set aside his arrogance and take on a much more solemn demeanor; he generally reserves this for the most serious of circumstances.
“Thank you so much for that unnecessary comment. Can I get back to work now, or are you just going to follow me around with your pitiful comebacks?”
But this confidence is easily shattered- an off comment or direct insult it all it takes to splinter it. It works from the inside out; his internal confidence wanes while, on the outside, Mousenose becomes sarcastic and defensive. Defiance is how he copes with fear, both with physical threats (of which he is very afraid) and his fear of not being good enough (which occurs less frequently). But he recovers quickly, and his ego rebounds just as large as it had been before.
“Poppy seed, poppy seed for numbing. And marigold for the rest. Though the stuff tastes terrible, believe me, you’re getting the better end of the deal now. Okay, okay, I’ll shut up. Maybe. I just react certain ways to- well, you know...”
His true skills shine the brightest when the medicine cat is under pressure, though it is far from graceful. Mousenose has the bad habit of babbling to himself and to others whenever nervous, under the excuse that it helps him think better. Really it’s the tom’s way of trying to blow off some steam and tension, and though it rarely works, it’s what helps him pull through in tough times. A fair enough trade-off, he believes.
“Destiny? I doubt it. You get what you work for.”
But his real morals lie with bravery and willpower, both traits he has plenty of. The tom believes that anything can be overcome with sheer willpower. This has led to a few cats- namely, his sister Cedartail- spreading rumors that he doesn’t believe in StarClan. These rumors are unfounded- Mousenose most definitely believes in StarClan, but he puts no stock in the idea of fate. Every cat is free to shape their own future, and while StarClan might help out a bit, there is no end-all and be-all certainty in the future… Or so he feels.
Appearance
Mousenose isn’t the biggest cat; in fact, he’s the size of an older apprentice. Thin and wiry with small paws, the tom fits the build of a common WindClan cat, and his short pelt only serves to emphasize his slightly bony frame. Because of his short stature Mousenose isn’t as fast as many of the cats in his clan.
His pelt is a mix of brown hues overlaid with darker tabby markings, which are most prominent on his face, shoulders and tail. His underbelly is a lighter, almost golden color. It doesn’t do much to offer him much camouflage in the vibrant green of WindClan territory, but he’s not looking to sneak around either.
Pointed ears top his rounded face, and long white whiskers stand out against his fur. Mousenose’s eyes are a light hazel color with faint flecks of green, always wide open, always observant of what’s going on.
History
It was long known in WindClan that no cat in Owlflight’s family ever amounted to much. They were all average warriors; none could claim to be the swiftest, the strongest, the most elegant, the best hunter or fighter. All of them were average in their prime, including Owlflight himself, who only managed to find a she-cat because he had a pleasant demeanor. Robintail's lineage wasn't much better, as none of her relatives had been great or terrible either. So no one- including the couple in question- expected much of the kits born.
But Cedarkit and Mousekit had other plans. The duo knew their legacy didn’t hold much, but they were determined to be the best they could be. But whereas Cedarkit believed that it was written in the stars for her to become great, Mousekit knew that he’d have to work for it. The siblings disagreed quite frequently over this point, and had an unstable relationship due to a clash of personalities that they never really reconciled. At best, it was an uneasy friendship; at worst, they were each others antagonizers.
A few moons later and the two were apprenticed. Mousepaw was surprised when he was made the medicine cat apprentice, as he often avoided the medicine cat's den for its terrible stench. But took to the role eagerly all the same. After all, none of the cats in his family had ever been great, but then again, none of them had ever been medicine cats either... It was a chance to change his legacy.
Smallstorm was his mentor, a tiny white she-cat with a fierce personality and sharp tongue. It was from his mentor that Mousepaw picked up his sarcastic attitude, but also his love of healing. The young tom loved nothing more than learning the herbs, their locations, the concoctions that could save the lives of his clanmates. And meeting StarClan whenever he ventured to the moonstone with his mentor- he’d never admit it out loud, but he admired the starry cats for their wisdom.
Mousepaw learned quickly, treating a variety of wounds and illnesses under Smallstorm’s watchful gaze. A minor mistake would earn him a sharp remark, a major one and she’d shoulder him out of the way to do it herself, with a punishment in store later. It was hard, but it worked, and Mousepaw was always sure to pay close attention when Smallstorm explained anything. Smallstorm was pleased that he responded well to her ‘tough love’.
At the age of fourteen moons, Mousepaw was named Mousenose for his sensitive nose which often aided him in picking out herbs and sick cats. He served for several moons alongside his mentor rather than under her; a relationship he much preferred. Eventually, Smallstorm noticed that her eyesight was beginning to fade, and for that reason she reluctantly retired to the elder’s den. By the time he was twenty moons old, Mousenose was serving as WindClan’s medicine cat on his own.
Family
Mother; Robintail
Father; Owlflight
Sister; Cedartail
Role Play Sample
Greenleaf, to most cats, meant warm days, plentiful prey, and comfortable nights spent curled up under the stars. But for Mousenose, Greenleaf meant that the herbs stored in his den would soon become useless in the heat, and that required him to replenish his stock more often.
He had gotten up early that morning, wanting to collect some herbs before the heat of sunhigh had a chance to wilt the plants. A warm breeze ruffled his short brown fur as he padded across the familiar territory, and it carried a variety of scents. A rabbit, Mousenose picked out, and his mouth watered slightly. But his duties as a medicine cat came first, and he was sure that the morning patrol would have a successful hunt without his help.
Moments later and a sweet scent dominated the air, one that the tom was looking for. Mousenose shouldered his way through a particularly thick patch of grass, and his efforts were rewarded by the sight of a leafy bush with small, overpowering yellow flowers. Tansy, he recalled, a complicated herb. It could be used to cure many ailments, but only in small doses; too much could worsen a condition.
The tom nosed at the bottom of the plant. It was sturdy, and many of the younger leaves were turning a darker green. ‘Good, it’ll keep growing for a while,’ he thought to himself as he carefully nipping off a few sprigs with his sharp teeth. Mousenose knew that many of the other cats in the clan didn’t know the work that went into simply collecting the herbs, let alone knowing what they do. His own sister once called his job easy, for StarClan’s sake.
‘Just because I make it look easy,’ he mused to himself, grinning around his mouthful of tansy, ‘doesn’t mean it is.’ That's what he had wanted to say to his sister, but he knew that Smallstorm would have boxed his ears if she ever found out. Even as an elder, his ex-mentor was a fiery one.
Satisfied that he had collected enough, the medicine cat bounded back towards camp at a much faster pace than he had left. The smell was already starting to burn his nose; if Mousenose didn’t make it back to camp to drop it off soon, he half-worried that he wouldn’t get the smell out of his nostrils for a quarter moon.
He had gotten up early that morning, wanting to collect some herbs before the heat of sunhigh had a chance to wilt the plants. A warm breeze ruffled his short brown fur as he padded across the familiar territory, and it carried a variety of scents. A rabbit, Mousenose picked out, and his mouth watered slightly. But his duties as a medicine cat came first, and he was sure that the morning patrol would have a successful hunt without his help.
Moments later and a sweet scent dominated the air, one that the tom was looking for. Mousenose shouldered his way through a particularly thick patch of grass, and his efforts were rewarded by the sight of a leafy bush with small, overpowering yellow flowers. Tansy, he recalled, a complicated herb. It could be used to cure many ailments, but only in small doses; too much could worsen a condition.
The tom nosed at the bottom of the plant. It was sturdy, and many of the younger leaves were turning a darker green. ‘Good, it’ll keep growing for a while,’ he thought to himself as he carefully nipping off a few sprigs with his sharp teeth. Mousenose knew that many of the other cats in the clan didn’t know the work that went into simply collecting the herbs, let alone knowing what they do. His own sister once called his job easy, for StarClan’s sake.
‘Just because I make it look easy,’ he mused to himself, grinning around his mouthful of tansy, ‘doesn’t mean it is.’ That's what he had wanted to say to his sister, but he knew that Smallstorm would have boxed his ears if she ever found out. Even as an elder, his ex-mentor was a fiery one.
Satisfied that he had collected enough, the medicine cat bounded back towards camp at a much faster pace than he had left. The smell was already starting to burn his nose; if Mousenose didn’t make it back to camp to drop it off soon, he half-worried that he wouldn’t get the smell out of his nostrils for a quarter moon.
CODED BY ELECTRIC