Post by Kestrel on Nov 25, 2016 19:45:01 GMT
BIRCHPELT of RIVERCLAN
TOMCAT
41 MOONS
RIVERCLAN
MEDICINE CAT
SILVER & YELLOW
CHEERFUL
APPEARANCE
Birchpelt is an average-sized clan cat, though a somewhat lithe figure does make him appear smaller when standing paw-to-paw with the larger warriors of Riverclan. His tail is also on the longer end and his ears are tall and wide, and altogether this makes the medicine cat somewhat faster and more acrobatic, if not a little weaker, which compliments the seemingly endless reserve of energy which Birchpelt carries himself with.
Birchpelt's body is covered in silver fur which is darker along his spine and upper body and becomes lighter along his stomach, face, and the base of his tail, and being a Bengal this fur is accented with large black spots and markings. As a Riverclan cat the tom's fur is somewhat longer and sleek, and his tail is on the bushier end. Finally, the medicine cat has no major scars or markings on his body, and his eyes are a golden yellow.
Birchpelt's body is covered in silver fur which is darker along his spine and upper body and becomes lighter along his stomach, face, and the base of his tail, and being a Bengal this fur is accented with large black spots and markings. As a Riverclan cat the tom's fur is somewhat longer and sleek, and his tail is on the bushier end. Finally, the medicine cat has no major scars or markings on his body, and his eyes are a golden yellow.
PERSONALITY
- Lighthearted: When meeting Birchpelt for the first time one might be hard pressed to believe that he's actually Riverclan's medicine cat. Why? His seemingly endless enthusiasm. Despite being responsible for some of the most important tasks in his clan, Birchpelt is about as playful as a newborn kit, as cheerful as the youngest apprentice, and as optimistic as a newly made warrior. As equally likely to give out poppy seeds as he is jokes and offhand sarcasm, there is seldom a situation where Birchpelt won't try inserting a bit of fun and games, and at the end of the day the medicine cat lives by a single philosophy - live life to its fullest!
- Confident: With his brimming optimism it goes without saying that Birchpelt is also quite a confident cat. Having been medicine cat for some moons now and taking over from a mentor he respected greatly, the tom faces his problems with determination and even a sense of competition, seeing said problems more as a challenge than a life-or-death situation. This same confidence also extends to more than just what he does. Birchpelt believes in himself, in his clan, and in Starclan above, and even if the odds seem insurmountable, in the end Birchpelt simply knows in his heart that everything will turn out a-okay.
- Caring: With his love of fun and the occasional bit of gallows humor even in the face of treating injured cats or facing dangers to Riverclan, some might see Birchpelt as cold or even apathetic. But they would be wrong. Though he might have an interesting way of showing it, the tom would not have become medicine cat if he did not care for his fellow clan mates, and it was in fact a desire to make them happy and well that led Birchpelt away from the path of a warrior and toward becoming medicine cat. Whether it be sickness or injury, a clan dilemma or a message to Starclan, or even some minor problem that Birchpelt nosed himself into, he will do all in his power to see a happy ending.
- Childish: Birchpelt is cheerful, playful, and optimistic, and at times outright childish and reckless. Picking herbs at the edge of the falls? Racing the other medicine cats to the Moonstone? Joking during an apprentice's ceremony? All things which have made other cats simply roll their eyes or hiss in annoyance toward Birchpelt, and the cat can appear less the experienced medicine cat and more akin to a naive apprentice at times. The tom simply has a hard time knowing when to stop talking or playing his games, and when to take a matter more seriously than as just a punchline.
- Nosy: As mentioned previously, Birchpelt is not an apathetic cat, and in fact the opposite may be true. The medicine cat tends to care a little too much. The tom will often poke his nose into places where it does not belong and become involved in problems that are not his to deal with, and overall tries to keep as up to date on the happenings of his clan and the forest as a whole as much as possible, no matter how far he has to go to do so. Partially in order to best help his clan sure, but in the end it's a simple fact that Birchpelt is just nosy and borderline intrusive, and clan rumor and gossip are his guilty pleasures.
- Reserved: Birchpelt? Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, reserved? While it's true that the tom has no problem showing his cheer, the medicine cat has a much harder time sharing his problems, even as he attempts to solve the problems of every cat around him. Birchpelt simply strives to make those around him as happy as they can be, and unloading his worries, fears, and anger onto them tends to have, like, the opposite effect of that. The result is that even when the medicine cat is not feeling happy and optimistic he will put on the front that he is happy and optimistic, and all the while strive, alone, to solve whatever is troubling him, or at the very least push it as far away as he can without anyone knowing.
HISTORY
Kithood
Birchpelt, then Birchkit, was born forty-one moons ago during newleaf in the Riverclan nursery. His mother was a silver spotted queen named Misttail, while his father was a dark brown tabby tom named Timberclaw. Birchkit also had a sister in the same litter, a brown tabby named Larkkit. The birthing of the brother and sister would be successful and both kits would grow up healthy in the nursery, in no small part to the help of the then Riverclan medicine cat Acornfur.
Eventually the kits would become strong enough to begin venturing out into the camp, first under the watchful eye of Misttail, and later on their own. And almost immediately it became evident that Birchkit and Larkkit would be as inseparable in life as they were at birth. The two kits would practically do everything together: meeting other clan cats side by side, playing on their own near the nursery, and bumping their tiny noses together as they poked around their bright, new world. Differences did exist between them, however. While Larkkit would proudly proclaim herself as the greatest warrior in Riverclan and tackle Birchkit, the tom on his part would play their games simply as they were: a game. To Birchkit the thought of actually becoming a warrior did not seem right for him as he grew older, and the tom was far more interested in putting a smile on other cats faces than protecting them against invisible enemies. In this way the kit for some moons remained uncertain about his future and his possible place in the clan.
At least until near tragedy struck. When they were four moons old Larkkit would fall deathly ill after the pair snuck out of camp for a game, and the she-cat consumed a small amount of deathberries in the process. The event terrified Birchkit, and together with Misttail and Timberclaw, he spent many a night fretting over his sister's state, and it would be a time that would forever be ingrained in the tom's memory. But not for the terrible reason he would expect. In fact, due to the efforts of Acornfur the brown she-cat would make a full recovery, and soon both brother and sister were once again chasing each other across the camp. No, instead it would show Birchkit his path in life. While sitting by his sister's side as she recovered the silver kit would frequently watch the Riverclan medicine cat as she treated other clan mates, and his growing curiosity was only furthered when Acornfur managed to save his sister, a feat the young kit had almost feared impossible. But the one thing that stuck with Birchkit the most was seeing each cat leave the medicine cat den thankful, relieved, and above all else, happy. And the kit then knew what he wanted to do in life.
While he would still play with Larkkit and the other kit's, Birchkit would thus begin to also spend a great deal of time around the medicine cat's den, observing Acornfur work and asking her eager questions when she had the time. And this eagerness was not lost to Acornfur. It was not a secret that Birchkit was somewhat less enthused about his warrior future than the other kits, and so as Birchkit began to near the day of his apprentice ceremony, the Riverclan medicine cat would go to their leader and choose a new destiny for him. And so at six moons of age Birchkit would find himself become Birchpaw, not at his sibling Larkpaw's side to become a warrior as he had at first imagined, but instead as a medicine cat apprentice.
Apprenticeship
Any disappointment which Birchpaw may have felt at leaving Larkpaw's side was easily pushed away by the sheer excitement he felt at being given the chance to be mentored by Acornfur. The tom would begin to spend nearly every waking moment by her side observing the experienced medicine cat as she worked, and Acornfur in turn taught Birchpaw all about the different herbs and remedies, how to identify sickness and take care of birthing queens, and how to speak with Starclan and read their omens. And not for a moment did Birchpaw's enthusiasm for it all lessen. As the moons wore on Acornfur found in her new apprentice a tom eager to learn, and the she-cat even found herself enjoying the fun spark the cheerful apprentice brought to the medicine cat den. Birchpaw for his part came to greatly respect the wisdom and kindness shown by his mentor, and over time both mentor and apprentice grew close, spending time in one anothers company more and more not just for the sake of teaching Birchpaw, but simply because they enjoyed it.
But the more time Birchpaw would spend with Acornfur the less he would spend with the other Riverclan apprentices, and one cat in particular would be all but forgotten in the tom's bliss. His sister Larkpaw. While the pair had been nigh inseparable as kits the two of them would grow apart as they grew older, and Larkpaw in particular saw Birchpaw as having simply tossed her aside, and sadness would over time lead to deep bitterness toward her brother. And Birchpaw hardly noticed a thing. In the few moments the pair did share the tom acted as if nothing was wrong, remaining his same playful self even as Larkpaw grew colder, and in his naivety the tom was about the only cat in Riverclan to not see the divide which had sprung up between them.
However, despite the rift between Birchpaw and Larkpaw, the former's apprentice training went largely without incident. A seemingly endless amount of energy coupled with Birchpaw's eagerness to learn from his experienced mentor meant that the tom was a quick study, and as the other apprentices began to earn their warrior names, Acornfur began to look toward her own apprentice's naming ceremony. And it would come to pass when Birchpaw was eighteen moons old. Though still a little childish and at times worryingly reckless, Acornfur could no longer deny that Birchpaw had what it took to become a medicine cat. He could easily recite the different herbs and knew the best places to pick them, he had helped Acornfur treat a number of cats and illnesses, and his easy-going nature even proved a hit in the nursery when it came to treating kits. So it was that during the next half-moon meeting of medicine cats at the Moonstone Birchpaw was given the name Birchpelt by his mentor, and the playful kit who at one point faced an uncertain future now sat nearly bursting with happiness and pride as the other medicine cats chanted his name, knowing that he had become the very thing he had dreamed of all those moons ago.
As Medicine Cat
With his naming ceremony having been completed, Birchpelt would now take on the full duties of a Riverclan medicine cat alongside his mentor and friend Acornfur. And the tom loved every second of it. Now working alongside his old mentor more as an equal than an apprentice, the two cats would look after their clan together for many moons, splitting up the tasks of day-to-day life and working side by side when a larger problem presented itself. Not that Birchpelt still did not have a thing or two to learn from the more experienced Acornfur. Though a full medicine cat the tom still looked up to his mentor and her moons worth of knowledge, and as the two spent time together Birchpelt would continue to grow both in body and in mind, becoming more and more confident in his own ability and wiser, even if his childish antics and playfulness lingered. Still, Birchpelt would become respected as a good, if not occasionally irritating, medicine cat in his clan as he grew older, and eventually his clan mates would look as much toward the tom for help as they did toward Acornfur.
Time would bring another thing for Birchpelt. Realization. In particular Birchpelt would eventually and finally come to see how enthralled he had been with his training as a medicine cat apprentice, and just how far he had drifted from his sister in the process. And the icy stare which the she-cat, now named Larkwing after becoming a warrior, threw his way would actually begin to hurt. Remembering how close they had been as kits Birchpelt would thus begin to try and fix his mistake. To seemingly no avail. No amount of lighthearted banter, offers of old games, or friendly prodding seemed to break through Larkwing's chilly exterior, and the more Birchpelt tried to revive their old friendship the more his sister appeared to resent him for it. At a loss the tom would be solely comforted by the companionship of Acornfur, but the hatred of his sister would only grow more bothersome and painful in Birchpelt's heart with time.
This would especially be true once the tom became the sole Riverclan medicine cat. Having already been medicine cat for many moons when Birchpelt first joined her, Acornfur had begun to grow old even as the pair worked alongside one another, and her duties became harder and harder to fulfill. An early onset of blindness only made matters worse, and so it was that when Birchpelt was thirty-eight moons old his friend would announce her retirement to the elders den. The news hit the silver tom hard, but he respected his mentor's wishes and accepted with confidence the fact that he was to become the sole medicine cat for his clan. After all by that point Birchpelt himself had gained a great deal of experience, and Acornfur had long ago become convinced that she would be leaving the position in capable paws. Still, even after she had moved to the elders den Birchpelt would continue to visit the she-cat and personally take care of her, as much for the benefit of Acornfur's continued company as it was for his duty.
Now forty-one moons old, Birchpelt has been Riverclan's only medicine cat for just a short while, but with his brimming optimism and confidence the tom has adjusted quickly. Living alone in the medicine cat den has been somewhat hard for the tom, but the continued friendship and support of Acornfur has largely pushed such worries aside. Even the continued hatred of his sister has done little to dampen Birchpelt's spirit, and the medicine cat is seemingly as cheerful, fun-loving, and energetic as the day when he first became a medicine cat apprentice, and the tom all but eagerly looks forward to what the future will bring.
Birchpelt, then Birchkit, was born forty-one moons ago during newleaf in the Riverclan nursery. His mother was a silver spotted queen named Misttail, while his father was a dark brown tabby tom named Timberclaw. Birchkit also had a sister in the same litter, a brown tabby named Larkkit. The birthing of the brother and sister would be successful and both kits would grow up healthy in the nursery, in no small part to the help of the then Riverclan medicine cat Acornfur.
Eventually the kits would become strong enough to begin venturing out into the camp, first under the watchful eye of Misttail, and later on their own. And almost immediately it became evident that Birchkit and Larkkit would be as inseparable in life as they were at birth. The two kits would practically do everything together: meeting other clan cats side by side, playing on their own near the nursery, and bumping their tiny noses together as they poked around their bright, new world. Differences did exist between them, however. While Larkkit would proudly proclaim herself as the greatest warrior in Riverclan and tackle Birchkit, the tom on his part would play their games simply as they were: a game. To Birchkit the thought of actually becoming a warrior did not seem right for him as he grew older, and the tom was far more interested in putting a smile on other cats faces than protecting them against invisible enemies. In this way the kit for some moons remained uncertain about his future and his possible place in the clan.
At least until near tragedy struck. When they were four moons old Larkkit would fall deathly ill after the pair snuck out of camp for a game, and the she-cat consumed a small amount of deathberries in the process. The event terrified Birchkit, and together with Misttail and Timberclaw, he spent many a night fretting over his sister's state, and it would be a time that would forever be ingrained in the tom's memory. But not for the terrible reason he would expect. In fact, due to the efforts of Acornfur the brown she-cat would make a full recovery, and soon both brother and sister were once again chasing each other across the camp. No, instead it would show Birchkit his path in life. While sitting by his sister's side as she recovered the silver kit would frequently watch the Riverclan medicine cat as she treated other clan mates, and his growing curiosity was only furthered when Acornfur managed to save his sister, a feat the young kit had almost feared impossible. But the one thing that stuck with Birchkit the most was seeing each cat leave the medicine cat den thankful, relieved, and above all else, happy. And the kit then knew what he wanted to do in life.
While he would still play with Larkkit and the other kit's, Birchkit would thus begin to also spend a great deal of time around the medicine cat's den, observing Acornfur work and asking her eager questions when she had the time. And this eagerness was not lost to Acornfur. It was not a secret that Birchkit was somewhat less enthused about his warrior future than the other kits, and so as Birchkit began to near the day of his apprentice ceremony, the Riverclan medicine cat would go to their leader and choose a new destiny for him. And so at six moons of age Birchkit would find himself become Birchpaw, not at his sibling Larkpaw's side to become a warrior as he had at first imagined, but instead as a medicine cat apprentice.
Apprenticeship
Any disappointment which Birchpaw may have felt at leaving Larkpaw's side was easily pushed away by the sheer excitement he felt at being given the chance to be mentored by Acornfur. The tom would begin to spend nearly every waking moment by her side observing the experienced medicine cat as she worked, and Acornfur in turn taught Birchpaw all about the different herbs and remedies, how to identify sickness and take care of birthing queens, and how to speak with Starclan and read their omens. And not for a moment did Birchpaw's enthusiasm for it all lessen. As the moons wore on Acornfur found in her new apprentice a tom eager to learn, and the she-cat even found herself enjoying the fun spark the cheerful apprentice brought to the medicine cat den. Birchpaw for his part came to greatly respect the wisdom and kindness shown by his mentor, and over time both mentor and apprentice grew close, spending time in one anothers company more and more not just for the sake of teaching Birchpaw, but simply because they enjoyed it.
But the more time Birchpaw would spend with Acornfur the less he would spend with the other Riverclan apprentices, and one cat in particular would be all but forgotten in the tom's bliss. His sister Larkpaw. While the pair had been nigh inseparable as kits the two of them would grow apart as they grew older, and Larkpaw in particular saw Birchpaw as having simply tossed her aside, and sadness would over time lead to deep bitterness toward her brother. And Birchpaw hardly noticed a thing. In the few moments the pair did share the tom acted as if nothing was wrong, remaining his same playful self even as Larkpaw grew colder, and in his naivety the tom was about the only cat in Riverclan to not see the divide which had sprung up between them.
However, despite the rift between Birchpaw and Larkpaw, the former's apprentice training went largely without incident. A seemingly endless amount of energy coupled with Birchpaw's eagerness to learn from his experienced mentor meant that the tom was a quick study, and as the other apprentices began to earn their warrior names, Acornfur began to look toward her own apprentice's naming ceremony. And it would come to pass when Birchpaw was eighteen moons old. Though still a little childish and at times worryingly reckless, Acornfur could no longer deny that Birchpaw had what it took to become a medicine cat. He could easily recite the different herbs and knew the best places to pick them, he had helped Acornfur treat a number of cats and illnesses, and his easy-going nature even proved a hit in the nursery when it came to treating kits. So it was that during the next half-moon meeting of medicine cats at the Moonstone Birchpaw was given the name Birchpelt by his mentor, and the playful kit who at one point faced an uncertain future now sat nearly bursting with happiness and pride as the other medicine cats chanted his name, knowing that he had become the very thing he had dreamed of all those moons ago.
As Medicine Cat
With his naming ceremony having been completed, Birchpelt would now take on the full duties of a Riverclan medicine cat alongside his mentor and friend Acornfur. And the tom loved every second of it. Now working alongside his old mentor more as an equal than an apprentice, the two cats would look after their clan together for many moons, splitting up the tasks of day-to-day life and working side by side when a larger problem presented itself. Not that Birchpelt still did not have a thing or two to learn from the more experienced Acornfur. Though a full medicine cat the tom still looked up to his mentor and her moons worth of knowledge, and as the two spent time together Birchpelt would continue to grow both in body and in mind, becoming more and more confident in his own ability and wiser, even if his childish antics and playfulness lingered. Still, Birchpelt would become respected as a good, if not occasionally irritating, medicine cat in his clan as he grew older, and eventually his clan mates would look as much toward the tom for help as they did toward Acornfur.
Time would bring another thing for Birchpelt. Realization. In particular Birchpelt would eventually and finally come to see how enthralled he had been with his training as a medicine cat apprentice, and just how far he had drifted from his sister in the process. And the icy stare which the she-cat, now named Larkwing after becoming a warrior, threw his way would actually begin to hurt. Remembering how close they had been as kits Birchpelt would thus begin to try and fix his mistake. To seemingly no avail. No amount of lighthearted banter, offers of old games, or friendly prodding seemed to break through Larkwing's chilly exterior, and the more Birchpelt tried to revive their old friendship the more his sister appeared to resent him for it. At a loss the tom would be solely comforted by the companionship of Acornfur, but the hatred of his sister would only grow more bothersome and painful in Birchpelt's heart with time.
This would especially be true once the tom became the sole Riverclan medicine cat. Having already been medicine cat for many moons when Birchpelt first joined her, Acornfur had begun to grow old even as the pair worked alongside one another, and her duties became harder and harder to fulfill. An early onset of blindness only made matters worse, and so it was that when Birchpelt was thirty-eight moons old his friend would announce her retirement to the elders den. The news hit the silver tom hard, but he respected his mentor's wishes and accepted with confidence the fact that he was to become the sole medicine cat for his clan. After all by that point Birchpelt himself had gained a great deal of experience, and Acornfur had long ago become convinced that she would be leaving the position in capable paws. Still, even after she had moved to the elders den Birchpelt would continue to visit the she-cat and personally take care of her, as much for the benefit of Acornfur's continued company as it was for his duty.
Now forty-one moons old, Birchpelt has been Riverclan's only medicine cat for just a short while, but with his brimming optimism and confidence the tom has adjusted quickly. Living alone in the medicine cat den has been somewhat hard for the tom, but the continued friendship and support of Acornfur has largely pushed such worries aside. Even the continued hatred of his sister has done little to dampen Birchpelt's spirit, and the medicine cat is seemingly as cheerful, fun-loving, and energetic as the day when he first became a medicine cat apprentice, and the tom all but eagerly looks forward to what the future will bring.
