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Description
Character
Name:
Name Meaning:
Goose - Aggressive, brown-headed, hearty
Tooth - Sharp tongued, witty,
Nickname(s): Loonie, Loontooth
Clan: Windclan
Age: 120
Rank: Medicine Cat
Gender: Male
Appearance details: A lean, stocky tom cat with a narrow jaw on a grey-nosed face with a black leathered, sloped nose and angular ears. This tom has an average-length blunt tail and long white whiskers. His eyes always seem to grin. His back is arched from age and arthritis, and he walks with a slight limp in his hind. His skin is loose and supple over a hard-muscled body, his fur feathers and clumps easily, but he is thankfully very short furred.

Kithood (0 - 5 Moons)
Goosekit was not an only kit, but more bodies exited the nursery the day of his birth than entered. His mother Stumpnose and his littermates died together - the medicine cat at the time was Branchsnap, Goosekit's own father, and he took solemn responsibility for the deaths fully on himself. Branchsnap named the only kit Goosekit as he'd seen a goose corpse earlier that day, and the way the kit was sprawled reminded him of it. Even for a newborn Goosekit was born extremely unwell, but like a gift from Starclan the kit lived - and into his colour points that made him look like his namesake.

There was a great deal of controversy as Branchsnap declared a milkmother. The plan initially for the tom was to continue his duty as Stumpnose birthed their surrogate kits - but Starclan had deemed her life complete. Even if Branchsnap knew every leaf and blade of grass in Windclan territory, even he did not know how to contain the confused fury within that little kit. Goosekit was grumpy, angry, and always discontented no matter the lengths of which his denmates would go to soothe him. While the clan knew that this was how a child who could not conceptualize death grieved, Goosekit's nurserymates resented him for his bullying, dark thoughts, and bursts of negativity. He would at times bite at queen's tails, unable to express through fat tears why his sudden stabs of jealousy urged him to do so. Goosekit had a mother. Stumpnose was as buried as her corpse was.

Branchsnap's grief was quiet. Outrageously quiet. The whistle of the grassland was all Branchsnap spoke to about his pain. After all, it was better that Goosekit did not see him this way. Some traits seem familial, and coping with loss poorly was certainly part of this patrilineage.

As Goosekit reached apprentice age, he learned of his birthmother. He learned how to control his impulses and finally accept the pain as what it was. In this way he first embraced starclan, though he always wondered what she did to deserve death - it had to have been for a reason. Perhaps, he wagered, starclan made mistakes. This acceptance turned into a lifelong theme of self-control for Goosekit, but he would never know what else of his kithood would come to haunt him. His father, determined not to lose his family, but torn with the code. Branchsnap speaks with Reedstar.

Apprenticeship
Goosepaw begins his apprenticeship with great fervor, though the clan reawakens its distain for the kit and has severe reservations about a Medicine Cat taking in his own kit as an apprentice. Reedstar condones it, citing that Branchsnap has the best intuition for this, but Goosepaw is heckled by others regardless for being plucked away from warrior life into a cushy medicine position. Such a sentiment among the clan instilled a bitterness in Goosetooth, one that would only grow.

Amidst the controversy, Branchsnap meets with him in private. He brings with him a broken branch to lay between them at the end of the den, and orders Goosepaw to vow that he no longer a father to him. As long as he is a Medicine Cat, it would be problematic at best to remain close. Its a vow Goosepaw takes, and its a vow Goosepaw stands vigil for - posing sleepless by the broken branch as if Branchsnap had died. The promise to reunite as a family later in life was simple, but Goosepaw questioned if starclan would be so straightforwards.

Branchsnap keeps him from serious medicine tasks for moons - valuing a strong foundation in herbs. By the time his nursery-mates were going to gatherings and taking hunting tests, he hadn't tended to a single wound. Goosepaw wasn't about to argue, he was a patient cat even at this age, but wanted to know why Branchsnap hadn't assigned him to any sick cats - after all, that would be his job in the future. Branchsnap had to explain. He told him that wounds are simple: You put cobwebs on wounds, you put poultice on infections, you eat herbs to recover. He could teach that every sunrise for the next fourty moons and it would not make him a better Medicine Cat. Administering medicine was not what Medicine Cats trained for, any fool with sharp teeth could do it. Until Goosepaw could diagnose a warrior before he did, identify every herb without seeing them, tell him exactly where the nearest herb patches were - he would not move onto administering medicine.

So Goosepaw trained. He walked through the woods with his eyes closed, letting whiskers and nose lead him under branches and over logs until he could bury his nose in every herb from burdock to yarrow. His training came to such a fervor that he would close his eyes and simply go about his day by smell and touch alone. Goosepaw watched the clan from the mouth of the medicine cat's den, watching the gaits and breath of the warriors as they milled about camp until he could watch a warrior bathe lazily in the sun and see the onset of greencough in the rise and fall of his chest. After a particularly rough battle resulting in Windclan casualties, Goosepaw found himself barking the same herb locations as Branchsnap at warrior assistants. His sense of his surroundings heightened, and he could soon charge through the territory with abandon, eyes closed, and reach his preferred patch of herbs.

Goosepaw knew his father would have high expectations, and Goosepaw was right. Branchsnap would only accept a perfect herb hunt, a perfect cut, a perfect leaf. But Goosepaw's poultice was to give himself higher expectations still. He would steal away from camp and pluck leaves and roots from the forest, the kinds of which Branchsnap had nothing to teach him for. Any effect at all he would note, even if it was simply a taste or a certain stringiness once chewed. Even through the bellyaches and aftertaste, he found this much more palatable than to relax with his clanmates all day. Sure, he would not miss sharing tongues each day, after all - it was a great time to check for injuries and hone his observational skills. The clan knew him as a hard worker, if not a little squirrelly.

He learned a trick, one that would become invaluable in his later years. Goosepaw learned of a time more dangerous than battle: quiet days days. Sour couples wouldnt argue, sick kits felt better, training sessions were going well... Branchsnap would prepare a would poultice on quiet days, and like clockwork someone would come in with a rabbit bite or hawk strike. It was routine, the nicks and scrapes of a clan, but Goosepaw would learn to love preparedness in the medicine den.

It was by accident that Goosepaw had spilled poppyseed by the medicine den spring, he had reprimanded himself but after trying to pick up the small seeds and crunching dirt for hours he had to give up. Next greenleaf however, the medicine cat found poppies growing right in the medicine den. It put a curious thought in his head, that perhaps, other herbs could be coaxed to grow in new locations like this. He never had the time to investigate in his apprenticeship.

"Warriorhood"

Goosepaw was now well into his warrior years, fresh apprentices at gatherings would often pale at his stature coupled with an apprentice name, Branchsnap sized him up. The bar he placed was so high, but Goosepaw had hurdled it. It was with the pride of a man who, despite greeting death so dear to his heart, was full of love. Branchsnap welcomed him to the nestside where a warrior lay injured, Goosepaw identified the broken legbone, and Branchsnap talked him through the poultice and splint. Just like that the two worked together, with both cats working the mortality rate of the clan plummeted - each passing cat gave their thanks, for this was something that a warrior noticed.

Goosepaw witnessed his first famine. A rabbit blight, something that affected few clans outside of windclan. Border skirmishes flourished, noble windclan warriors stooping to poaching in order to feed kits. The hawks got bolder, leaving nasty gashes and punctures on the hides of elders and queens who committed no crime aside from being visible. This, his father warned, would not be recovered from so quickly. Goosepaw was quizzical, as the clan had not been so affected by the dip in rabbits. However, Branchsnap lead on more than he knew. In response to less rabbits to eat, other prey like voles and mice in windclan became decimated. As hunger began to grip the clan in response, as ribs became bare, Goosepaw was shaken to find his clanmates turning against him so near the end of his apprenticeship.

Reedstar appointed a new deputy. One with spine, who was willing to do what had to be done if war arose among the clans - should other clans come to realize what was happening to Windclan's Territory. Cloudwatcher was appointed, A wide-set white cat with golden eyes known for his decisive battle calls and tactics. Cloudwatcher, Goosepaw knew, was a brutal cat. He had heard of the grizzly wounds the warrior left from the other medicine cats. Reedstar knew it too, but brutal and swift was what windclan needed if they were to survive the blight.

Cloudwatcher was a beast of change, and change he brought. When the deputy restricted prey from elders and kits from under Reedstar's nose, the medicine cats began to work doubletime to keep up with the neglect. Reedstar could only notice what a warrior would notice, and for that Goosepaw could not slight her. It was the ignorance he could not tolerate, to simply pretend that one did not know, to turn the other way. Mothers and fathers entered their den to scream at the medicine cats, there wasn't anything else they could do about the situation - the medicine cats spoke out to Reedstar, but she didn't believe Cloudwatcher could enforce such a thing. After all - he was simply a deputy. But those caught sneaking food were worked raw by Cloudwatcher until they collapsed from exhaustion, ending up in the medicine den for days.

Starving mothers and bare-boned fathers entered their den to scream at them, elders hissed and swatted as the pains of hunger drove them to do something - anything - that would expel the energy their feeble bodies could not expend. Every day felt as long as a moon with their sparse troublesome patients, sleep was unrestful, but Goosepaw held onto his pleasant disposition. When Goosepaw helped with his first litters, he did so with some blatant unease - he was upfront about his lack of knowledge. He helped Branchsnap deliver the litters that would give rise to Swirlkit and Quickkit. Branchsnap taught him another trick of the trade, to always be optimistic. A doubtful medicine cat was an untrustworthy one. To be gleeful to help is the best medicine of all. Goosepaw was able to sleep well that night, comforted by the thought.

However, Starclan has its plans. The worst was yet to come for Goosepaw, as the blight returned in earnest to the rabbits and windclan was entirely without prey. Queens and kits began to die. He stared horrified at the small, breathless body of a kit and the exhausted frame of queen who died of a heart attack mid-birth due to the stress of it all. How could Goosepaw possibly see an upside of this? Was there anything more terrible than being unable to stop the growth of the kits in your belly, to be forced to bring them into a barren world where they would immediately suffer? The apprentice swallowed dryly, as he pressed his nose to the kit's bloody flank he whispered with all the optimism he could muster: they're a beautiful kit, even in death.

Goosepaw knew he was a fledged medicine cat, standing aside his father with the same prowess he exhibited. It was nearly at random that Cloudwatcher interrupted the medicine cat's naming ceremony - Branchsnap was deemed too old to be a sharp-minded medicine cat by the deputy, Cloudwatcher rushing Branchsnap out of the medicine den and forbidding him to the elder's den. This erupted controversy among the warriors as Cloudwatcher's story of Branchsnap forgetting herbs and what the deputy's name was clearly untrue. Reedstar found herself perplexed, to choose between an aged medicine cat and a cat dedicated to keeping the clan healthy through the blight was a difficult choice to make. Regardless, Reedstar began to disrupt Cloudwatcher's over-reaches of power.

Goosepaw knew this was due to his sneaking of bundles of sorrel to the starving cats against orders, after all - he was not serving them prey. Goosepaw knew the bone-thin game Cloudwatcher was playing. After all, he was trained to be observant. With Branchsnap demoted from the position, Goosepaw knew with a twist in his heart that he could be his father once more - but the air between them remained sterile. They knew their promise held.

The next medicine meeting was a disarray without Branchsnap. The other clans knew of the blight, but not of Cloudwatcher. Even so, all Goosepaw requested was shipments of herbs. He nearly battered another medicine cat for suggesting that his training was through and that he could surely appoint an apprentice quite immediately after his naming, that another could give one to him. Goosepaw hissed. Anybody could declare him a medicine cat, but only Branchsnap could decide when he was done - truly done his training. If these other medicine cats found themselves as the truly are - truly separate from warriorhood and code - that would be remarkably apparent. From this point onwards, Goosepaw can't help but bring a slightly antagonistic approach to medicine meetings. These other cats heeded the warrior life too closely, despite having their own code. Age was never a determining factor on if one was to be a full medicine cat.

Moons passed swiftly and the injured began to fill every nest in Goosepaw's den, and he stuck by every trick, rule, and law Branchsnap gave. More yelling, more screaming, more grief surrounded Goosepaw as he struggled to keep up with the flow of injured warriors and starving cats under the knowing eye of Cloudwatcher. Goosepaw needed an apprentice to keep up with all the work - but the thought was soundly refused. A trial by fire would do no good for the future medicine cat, but if it wasn't even good for him what would it do to a frail kit with a fancy name? His thoughts traced back to the queen, to how his own heart raced, but then to the nearly twnty moon's worth of litters kits wasting away currently in the nursery. By observation he knew what kind of cat the clan would need, and between patients he deliberated who he would train. A cat who was observational, dedicated, who had every reason to work hard - someone who could brush cheeks with death with a smile betweem their whiskers. A thing he struggled with more and more these days. Each birth, each pairing, each fling the warriors gave rise to - he watched.

And he waited.

Goosetooth was never overtly religious. The fact of his birth sewed too much doubt to ever be a code-thumper, though he couldn't deny his belief nonetheless. He knew that starclan would give him his apprentice when it was time, but he also knew so very well that Starclan can make mistakes. If they did not make mistakes, there would be no need of his position. He would be a warrior by now, long in the tooth as well. His disposition was wilting.

The world was heavy. Goosetooth had seen more suffering than any cat had any right to see, the pain of his clan was heavy on his shoulders, it was so incredibly personal yet despite his position he was powerless to stop Cloudwatcher from causing more and more unnecessary strife. There was only so far a cat could bend. Every time he saw wounds he would force himself to be energize, in his den empty of herbs and full of bodies. Just as the wayward scent of herbs filled him with enthusiasm, a subtle disconnect occurred - he began to force himself to see his clanmates as patients as a good thing, the sight of wounds electrified him with excitement. His loud greetings saw less names and more disgusted looks as he greeted cats as their latest injury. Brokenleg! was the patrol not all what it was cracked up to be?, he would say. Slitgut! You look rather empty inside today!

If they were going to enter his den just to yowl and swat, by Starclan, he was going to give them a reason for it.

Goosepaw knew he was delving into madness, his age didn't help at all - but the weight of his clan, of his future apprentice, of his father, of every glare and hiss from a clanmate while stars above and abyss below he was trying - it all bent his personality out of shape. He took his training as a birthright, as his life's goal, he tried to beat back his own demons for the sake of completing it. On his worse days, Branchsnap would offer to take over the den himself. Despite the great stress of his life, Goosetooth seemed to calm himself when Branchsnap sat in the medicine den, explaining the usefulness of knowing herbs - and listening to Goosepaw in turn - put him to peace. Branchsnap could still be a medicine cat like this, even though Goosepaw took the punishment for it. It took a great deal of effort foe Branchsnap to be a mentor in these trying times, but deep in his heart where no code could reach, Branchsnap saw Goosepaw as the most important thing to him.

With the blight easing, and with Reedstar blocking Cloudwatcher's attempts to keep Branchsnap as working as a medicine cat, the pressure began to lift for the clan. It was deep in a moonless newleaf night, Branchsnap taught Goosetooth about a disease he had never heard of before. Blackcough. It was... rare. Branchsnap admitted. He had only seen a single case before, but it was a threat to any clan. It was a strange disease, Branchsnap would mention, he would warn that all types of foxhearted cats are at risk of developing it when they catch a cough. Sometimes, even, to people you love. Not that he would know, of course. He just had his suspicions.

Greencough is a tenatious disease. Cloudwatcher would learn this well.

The clan was smaller, robbed of a generation of warriors, but it made disease sweep through windclan like a moorland gale. It wasn't long until Cloudwatcher was infected, and soon nest-ridden in his den. The deputy demanded to be seen by Goosepaw, still holding to his story of Branchsnap's insanity. When Goosepaw entered, he saw the deputy laying on his side upon his nest. His breath came in rheumy gurgles, the leader's fur spiked with sweat and his eyes bleary. A green phlegm drooled from his nose and mouth as he gave a weak cough. Goosetooth gave him a look over. Prodding his stomach, rolling him over, putting an ear to his chest... The medicine cat circled him slowly, once, twice, three times.

"Hm." Goosetooth said, looking back on his long life without any recollection of a green-phlegmed cough. "I'm sorry, squishskull. Afraid I haven't a clue what this is."

And just like that, Goosepaw did what Cloudwatcher always wanted from him - and left the weak to fend for themselves. As Goosepaw left, the haggared deputy cried out after him, but the sun was bright and the birds were singing - it was no day to spend cooped up in some den. The coughing, the gurling, the vomiting - and then nothing. Cloudwatcher had died of a mysterious disease - one Goosepaw himself could not diagnose, one that didn't quite fit the bill for anything. Cloudwatcher's vigil was surrounded by indifferent warriors simply baffled on what disease he had come down with. After all, Goosepaw was an excellent medicine cat. Goosepaw had always put his clanmates first. Goosepaw would go on to bury greencough-ridden prey and send his prayer of thanks to starclan.

Perhaps Starclan made mistakes. But the cats who lived on the pelt of the earth did not have tolerate it. If starclan had such an issue with it, they could strike him down. Reedstar was as ignorant of the workings of the medicine cats as always. Branchsnap was formally allowed back into the medicine den. After all, his work was not done. It had been a good thirty moons since he was last a formal Medicine Cat, and he spent no time at all giving his son a name.

"For your valiant battle, for your wit, and for the tools you use so well. For a strength many underestimate, or simply choose to not see. Goosepaw, you have trained well, and before starclan I name you..."

Goosetooth.

Such an aggressive name for a medicine cat was... suitable. Cats in other clans knew Goosetooth was a grim cat from his toothy grins and quips, but Windclan cats truly knew of his demeanor. Another deputy was appointed, Breezebriar, and Goosetooth kept a healthy distance.

Peace had returned to the clans, and Goosetooth began to see kits brought to the world and remain alive.

[this is the part where I add the majority of the player character births, more about moorstar, ect: but for now, skip to the apprentice]

Goosetooth, more accustomed now to littering, is there when Thrushclaw and Dust-tail's arrives. Leafkit, Snailkit, and Stormkit. Goosetooth notices a kit among the batch, an oddness to its leg and the way it bent when wriggling across the nest. He struggled not to refer to the newborn as a crooked nickname as it slowly meandered, for his attention wasn't on the kit. He wanted to see, quite pointedly judgmental of the pair, how they would react to their child being born with an oddness. Yet they said not a word, if they noticed at all. It would put quite an annoyance in the back of Goosetooth's brain for the next moons. If only they noted the constant flick of his ticked tail, watching from afar as the kit's parents palled and stalled when the enthusiastic little thing boasted of becoming an apprentice.

Goosetooth was, and still is, a bitter old man. Some say his mother was a fox, but perhaps it was sound for Goosetooth to judge the young parents. The name. Snailkit. See, his uncouth nicknames may be a quirk of his, but they stayed within the medicine den for the most part. He knew it was for the kit's lack of speed, but he was curious on whether or not Thrushclaw and Dust-tail would consider Snailkit becoming his medicine apprentice before he spoke up of it. Yet the notion seemed to breeze right through their airy, empty skulls. He watched as they hummed and hawwed about its future. Words he would not vocalize though he would love to, yet still, Reedstar had not punished him for thinking poorly of others... yet. As she grew with the other kits he saw that she had the spirit, the tenacity, the gall to look at her state in such a vicious world and simply pay it no mind. By starclan, he was jealous. Goosetooth knew that there was a strength within her that was the kind to move clans. No bum leg would stop such a cat, much less even be within consideration. If he could simply train her as well as Branchsnap trained him, he had no doubt she would surpass him. Unfortunately, warriors were always so keen on shoving their nose in medical affairs and assuming they held a medcat's knowledge in one paw and starclan's decisiveness in another.

He had later explained to the parents that the leg was an inheritance. Branchsnap's mentor had seen it, it was really quite an oddity, but the kit was be perfectly healthy - in fact, healthier than her littermates in most regards. In the moment they seemed receptive to his talkings, but he could watch as their feelings slowly faded and they strapped their warrior sensibilities back on as they left the den and interacted with Snailkit. Bah. Maybe he was old, but cats these days certainly didn't know how to parent properly, much less get anything done. He had dropped plenty of hints that he could take in the cat, but it fell on preoccupied ears. At the gathering where Leafkit and Stormkit were apprenticed, he expected to have to intervene. Curious on how Thrushclaw and Dust-tail would explain knowing what they knew now, he held his tongue, claws dug into the dirt to keep him down. He wanted to see, so he watched with his icy eyes as Snailkit's parents hummed, hawwed, and dismissed Snailkit's concern instead of explaining the situation. So aggravated was he that he could chew straight through a glade of birch trees all on his lonesome, but he kept his teeth clenched.

The way others had ostracized Snailkit was something he noticed most of all, unintentional neglect aside. He hoped Snailkit did not notice him peering out of the medicine den each sunhigh to check if the apprentice had made any new acquaintances, but you would have to be blind to not see the loneliness burdening the little frame when Dovepaw was absent. He knew he could not be the friend Snailkit needed, and tried to persuade the gutsier apprentices who landed in his den to be kinder to the cat. If he was ever called into the apprentice den, he left a few new clods of moss around her nest out of concern. It was wasteful, he knew, but with how Snailkit was nose-to-tailtip with Dovepaw from sunrise to sunset... starclan knew Snailpaw needed a watchful eye, and worse of all a friend. Unfortunately, he was... relatively certain he scared the thing simply by being in its line of sight. Even still, the curiosity Goosetooth had since her birth remained.

Then came a quiet, sunny day.

There are days when the clan is too quiet. No thorns in any pads, no burrs shoved up nostrils, no stray dandelion seeds finding their way into the ear of a mighty warrior. These days Goosetooth would wet moss, bundle cobweb, and chew poltices - he had learned well of what complacency breeds. It was just disappointed to learn it was Dovepaw.

He expected an apprentice, but by the stars, he prayed it was not her and her alone. The moment the name Dovepaw dropped from a warrior's tongue he was off like a shock through the turf with his herbs. Those who knew Goosetooth knew him to never break a walking pace, but as he sped across the territory fire burned along his back, joints sparking embers as he forced himself through arthritis to reach that damned bloody apprentice as fast as his old bones could carry him. All the while, he cursed. They were at the thunderpath, the warriors had said. He did not have high hopes. After today, he would walk with a limp for pushing himself to sprint.

Dovepaw was practically smeared down the thunderpath, a small fuzzy lump next to a blood-dipped body that he recognized immediately as Dovepaw with Snailpaw at her side. Snailpaw watched with the roundest eyes, so heavy with tears and question, as Goosetooth greeted the apprentice as 'Snapspine' and with boundless excitement - got to work.

He did what he could. There was too much broken within her little body to expect her to live, and it is with utter disgust towards the stars that he was faced with the fact that he was forbidden from simply strangling her on the spot to rid her of the pain. But with Snailpaw watching so closely... he could not simply let the shecat lay there, and neither would he taunt the medicine cat code. Poppyseed, catmint, dock. To ease her, mainly. It was too much to chew so suddenly, but his intuition to prepare it bought Dovepaw another moment below Silverpelt. He ordered Snailpaw to find and dress the skinned parts of her friend.

The warriors froze. They would recognize the tone as Branchsnap quipping to a younger Goosepaw.

He knew Dovepaw's bones were worse than broken, that blood does not erupt from bodies like that without ruptured innards, and no cat could live without that much skin. There was no way to move her, no way to know where she ended and the thunderpath began, so he got to work. Blood sopped with moss as deft as a belly-strike, fur groomed of blood until a pink tinge remained, mechanical and swift with the technique of a well-trained medicine cat. He had Snailkit roll Dovepaw to allow her to breathe just a few moments more, Goosetooth waiting, counting heartbeats, stalking the time for the medicine to do its job. He nodded for Snailpaw to rest.

As the poppyseeds calmed the fear of death within Dovepaw, soothed by a Snailpaw who refused to leave her friend, who could withstand the sight of the guts and gore and the most personal of tragedy without losing her mind. His own vision practically swam with distortion, but Goosetooth watched Dovepaw relax for one last time, before seeing the light in her eyes leave to join the silverpelt. There was a moment of relief sighed among the patrol.

Warriors attack enemies, tresspassers, hawks and foxes - and Goosetooth attacked death, beating it paws and claws away from the young and the sick of Windclan. But no territory stayed the same. There are days where Goosetooth could simply not help. These were the days he would obsess, chastise himself, grin a little further and croak something a bit more grim to an onlooker. The old cat set his teeth.

Dovepaw died on his watch. Another kit he was there to litter, another kit he was there to watch die. Snailpaw did not see him watching her body, intently.

She had just proved her herself as a worthy apprentice... if Goosetooth had been any other medicine cat, he would've named her on the spot. Yet he observed still, so maddeningly patient, as the warriors loaded the twisted remains of Dovepaw onto their backs and walked her home to camp. He could tell Snailpaw was griefstricken. Of course she was. But... he was impressed with her lack of dramatics, the openness of her heart, he knew she would not fall into the trappings that were rotting him from the inside out. Thirty moons ago he could've taken his first apprentice. He watched generations of warriors live and die, and none of them held the strength, will, and heart that Snailpaw did. He was sure of this.

Goosetooth watched the vigil. Perhaps medicine cats were held to the expectation that one puts herbs on wounds, but Goosetooth knew that being kind to the dead and those they leave behind was more important than a proper splint. He watched as Snailpaw murmured with others, at times weeping, but not losing composure. She nosed into the body with the others, and not once did she rise from the vigil.

When the moon was low, the sun just barely clawing into the sky, Goosetooth appeared from the medicine den and limped quietly across the camp towards the cluster. Snailpaw jumped to her paws as he neared, a blazing fire in her eyes, but Goosetooth deftly shoved a paw in her mouth before she could speak and truly break her vigil.

"I agree." He spoke. "You will make a fine apprentice, Looseleg."

His expression did not change. In the back of his mind, he snickered to himself. He had waited 8 very long moons for that. To this day, he has not called Snailpaw by her name.

APPRENTICESHIP:

Goosetooth made it absolutely clear that being his apprentice did not equate to a cushy life poking at leaves. Each rigor his father imparted upon him he was sure to introduce without hesitation. It was hard, he knew, but even when Snailpaw failed to sniff down herbs she did not curse herself the way he would. But... when she could find it. That excitement, he could feel it. The same excitement that had her bubbling and happy was the same that pushed Goosetooth to rename his patients horrid things. This time, he would be careful not to see this passion twisted. It was unfortunate that he would watch delight flicker out of her eyes as she realized she had naught a soul outside the medicine den to share her excitement with.

However, Goosetooth's dedication to ensure his apprentice lead a decent life was distracted. At their first journey there, he had noticed the moonpool was low. He scoffed, really, but that night he made sure to impart an important lesson upon his apprentice:

there will be time where the entire clan seems to depend on you. it is because if you blink, they will die. that is a promise. a promise between me, and you, and starclan. if it all seems too much... it is because indeed it is much too much. but in the coming moons, he wished to make a new promise. Under no circumstance was Snailpaw to act the way he did under pressure. She was to note each and every way his psyche cracked, and to learn of the illnesses of the heart. It was as much a warning of his undoing as it was a lesson.

Goosetooth warned of Blackcough. A disease that cats caught when leafbare struck their heart, turning catblood to foxblood and destroying clans until cured. He told her very carefully the cure: holly berries. It was never to be used on a cat otherwise. She quietly asked if he had ever cured Blackcough. He told her that windclan medicine cats are... particularly good at curing blackcough. Goosetooth would never speak of the disease again.

But Goosetooth knew exactly what happens to him when plague and famine hit the clans. He was a monster, worse than the ones who chewed cats up on the thunderpath and spit them out. The sick-names got worse - deadface, rottengut, ripbelly - but never would he put his ire to Snailpaw. At times it would slip from his tongue, but he recoiled at the bitterness he produced and made certain to heartily apologize. Snailpaw was too young to do shiftwork alone, he knew she did not have a full understanding yet - it was a harrowing reminder of his own apprenticeship. He would not sleep when it was his shift to sleep. Snailpaw would notice that he murmured in his sleep, answers and questions and anecdotes, facts and herbs and scoldings... well, after dedicating your life to it, its bound to leak out.

The sleep-talking? Yeah. He was awake. Branchsnap helped in the den while Goosetooth half-dozed, explaining to Snailpaw in a wry hush that this was another of his son's bad habits. Goosetooth was old, but Branchsnap was positively and absolutely ancient by this time - imparting stories of Goosetooth's youth and apprenticeship, reminding the apprentice of the cat that he was underneath his rough, unfeeling exterior. Branchsnap was touched that Goosetooth emulated his mentoring style with such accuracy. Despite the times, Branchsnap working as a medicine cat despite being a retired elder caused some tension between clans... especially in Skyclan, which was struggling with illness.

Goosetooth could count on two paws how many nights he actually slept for the duration of the moon, but he refused to leave Snailpaw under equipped for war the two of them had to wage. Sleep is sacred for the medicine cat, and this became apparent when Snailpaw received a message from Starclan.

Goosetooth is a proud, hard-nosed cat. Not one to praise, or to even purr - his father had never praised him, and he did not seek it. Not a whisker on his face twinged without his saying-so... But through the sleep deprivation, through his shredded sanity, through his stress and aches, he would be a liar if he said he did not grow emotional at the news. The very concept of Starclan recognizing this little cat so early in her life nearly stopped his old heart, while he was confident before that Snailpaw would become the best medicine cat the forest had ever seen, he was convinced now that it would be true. He could only do so much, but by Starclan's will, she would redefine what the position meant.

He had waited nearly 100 moons for an apprentice. The wait was worth it.

Goosetooth backed his apprentice, and her message that the clans must leave the territories. Flanked by Branchsnap on the other side, and he still recounts with a devious grin that he thwacked Reedstar each day she hesitated to make the decision to leave the old territory. Why, Snailpaw told us to leave. Its the word of Starclan, is it not? After all, Reedstar, you know that Starclan makes no mistakes. As Medicine Cat, it was Goosetooth's duty to convey the message of starclan, after all. If that message needed to be conveyed by his paw greeting Reedstar's head early every morning, before she had the chance to wake, so be it. It was Starclan's will. Goosetooth certainly had the last maniacal laugh at the gathering when it had appeared that several cats across the clans had received such a message. Goosetooth was not entirely faithful to starclan, but he did, however, have full faith in Snailpaw.

Sometimes faith can be challenging.

When the little apprentice had told him she needed to go along with another group of cats, ahead of the others, to scout for the new territory... Goosetooth found himself blindsided for the first time in his life. He didn't let his shock show more than a twitch, and he nodded quite slowly before wishing her well on the trek. He packed all the herbs that could fit in a bundle and handed it over. He watched as he said his farewells to Looseleg and sent her on her way.

Branchsnap looked quite wry as he noted Goosetooth's subtle response. He knew there would be a little Snailpaw sized hole in his chest.

"It seems you care for Snailpaw." Branchsnap would say.
"I simply cannot hear such a frail voice, Oldbones."
"You will miss her. She's the only one who tolerates you anymore."
"Don't be silly. You're still here, aren't you?"

==JOURNEY==

The journey was none to kind to Goosetooth. The cold, the steep inclines, the speed of which the warriors marched - the lot of it had him quite sour indeed. Especially the parts when all the clans were mingling as one. Other medicine cats would get quite cross at him for his antics, but none of them could seal a wound as effectively as he could with low supplies. It... was simply a matter of if he could keep up.

In his spare time, when the clan was still, he would go back to his old hobbies of trying the plants in the territory. Well, he was quite excited for the notion of new herbs, and began to try whatever new-shaped leaf he could spot. After a few stomach-aches and vomitings, he did find that at the end of the day, his body could shrug the cold just the slightest bit easier. After review, he found a ginger plant that when eaten, made his body feel warm. The tradeoff was a sore stomach and awful taste, but it was too pertinant an effect to simply ignore. He told Snailpaw the next time they met, allowing the apprentice to decide whether or not it was worthwhile to her journey. However... he noticed a sort of dreaminess in her eyes, as though her attention lay elsewhere. Goosetooth was curious, but he knew that look from many moons ago.

About
Positive
Neutral
Negative

| Wise | Forward-Thinker | Hard Worker | Optimist | Urge to Act | Dark Humor | Codebreaker | Harrowed |

Positive Trait 1: Wise
In his old age, Goosetooth is level-headed and has been part of things most cats only hear of. He's a good person to consult when considering the future. This is tied to his Optimist trait.

Positive Trait 2: Forward-Thinker
The status quo is background noise to Goosetooth - he is not one to sit idle and accept the world as it is. This is tied to his Urge to Act and Optimist traits.

Positive Trait 3: Hard Worker
Above all else Goosetooth strives for work well done. He's a stern mentor and hard-nosed when it comes to treatment, but he is not unfair. He gained this trait from his father Branchsnap, and is tied to his Urge to Act trait.

Neutral Trait 1: Optimist
Forcing yourself to see the bright side of any situation isn't always appropriate - but sometimes its just what's needed. This is tied to his Dark Humor, Wise, and Forward-Thinker traits.

Neutral Trait 2: Urge To Act
Goosetooth will act as he pleases, even when its safer to stay put. Every choice is an opportunity, and Goosetooth grabs it. This is tied to his Codebreaker, Harrowed, and Hard Worker traits.

Negative Trait 1: Dark Humor
The nestside manner of a medicine cat probably shouldn't include quips about their mortality and injuries. This was gained through Gorsestar's stress upon Ravenclan, and it is tied deeply to his Optimist trait.

Negative Trait 2: Codebreaker
In his life Goosetooth has broken the warrior code, though he is a medicine believes he is simply correcting for what Starclan could not. His fate in the afterlife isn't guaranteed. This is deeply tied to his Urge to Act trait.

Negative Trait 3: Harrowed
Grief-stricken at a young age and under his time with Gorsestar, Goosetooth has been irreversibly changed. This has lead him to have several irrational dislikes, as well as an off-kilter personality. This is tied to his Codebreaker, Dark Humor, and Urge to Act.

Likes: Duck. Blood, Sputum, ect. Medicine. Polite warriors.
Dislikes: Deputies (Irrational - a learned trait). "Strong warriors", most parents of kits
Fears: Birth complications, kit death, famine, being alone

Other Information:

Relationships
Orientation: Working
Looking for: Are you hurt? No? Go away *smack*
Ideal Relationship and Traits: A strong stem and wide leaves, not wrinkled or wilted due to improper conditions.

Mentor: Branchsnap
Apprentice: Snailpaw
Crush: A good night's fucking sleep
Mate:
Ex-Mate/s: Mental soundness
Kin: Branchsnap, Stumpnose (Desceased)

ExampleClan
Exampleclaw | @ | - Relationship Description

Roleplay
(Sample goes here! Sample should be at least 5 sentences long.)

Preferred methods:

Description
Character
Name:
Name Meaning:
Goose - Aggressive, brown-headed, hearty
Tooth - Sharp tongued, witty,
Nickname(s): Loonie, Loontooth
Clan: Windclan
Age: 120
Rank: Medicine Cat
Gender: Male
Appearance details: A lean, stocky tom cat with a narrow jaw on a grey-nosed face with a black leathered, sloped nose and angular ears. This tom has an average-length blunt tail and long white whiskers. His eyes always seem to grin. His back is arched from age and arthritis, and he walks with a slight limp in his hind. His skin is loose and supple over a hard-muscled body, his fur feathers and clumps easily, but he is thankfully very short furred.

Kithood (0 - 5 Moons)
Goosekit was not an only kit, but more bodies exited the nursery the day of his birth than entered. His mother Stumpnose and his littermates died together - the medicine cat at the time was Branchsnap, Goosekit's own father, and he took solemn responsibility for the deaths fully on himself. Branchsnap named the only kit Goosekit as he'd seen a goose corpse earlier that day, and the way the kit was sprawled reminded him of it. Even for a newborn Goosekit was born extremely unwell, but like a gift from Starclan the kit lived - and into his colour points that made him look like his namesake.

There was a great deal of controversy as Branchsnap declared a milkmother. The plan initially for the tom was to continue his duty as Stumpnose birthed their surrogate kits - but Starclan had deemed her life complete. Even if Branchsnap knew every leaf and blade of grass in Windclan territory, even he did not know how to contain the confused fury within that little kit. Goosekit was grumpy, angry, and always discontented no matter the lengths of which his denmates would go to soothe him. While the clan knew that this was how a child who could not conceptualize death grieved, Goosekit's nurserymates resented him for his bullying, dark thoughts, and bursts of negativity. He would at times bite at queen's tails, unable to express through fat tears why his sudden stabs of jealousy urged him to do so. Goosekit had a mother. Stumpnose was as buried as her corpse was.

Branchsnap's grief was quiet. Outrageously quiet. The whistle of the grassland was all Branchsnap spoke to about his pain. After all, it was better that Goosekit did not see him this way. Some traits seem familial, and coping with loss poorly was certainly part of this patrilineage.

As Goosekit reached apprentice age, he learned of his birthmother. He learned how to control his impulses and finally accept the pain as what it was. In this way he first embraced starclan, though he always wondered what she did to deserve death - it had to have been for a reason. Perhaps, he wagered, starclan made mistakes. This acceptance turned into a lifelong theme of self-control for Goosekit, but he would never know what else of his kithood would come to haunt him. His father, determined not to lose his family, but torn with the code. Branchsnap speaks with Reedstar.

Apprenticeship
Goosepaw begins his apprenticeship with great fervor, though the clan reawakens its distain for the kit and has severe reservations about a Medicine Cat taking in his own kit as an apprentice. Reedstar condones it, citing that Branchsnap has the best intuition for this, but Goosepaw is heckled by others regardless for being plucked away from warrior life into a cushy medicine position. Such a sentiment among the clan instilled a bitterness in Goosetooth, one that would only grow.

Amidst the controversy, Branchsnap meets with him in private. He brings with him a broken branch to lay between them at the end of the den, and orders Goosepaw to vow that he no longer a father to him. As long as he is a Medicine Cat, it would be problematic at best to remain close. Its a vow Goosepaw takes, and its a vow Goosepaw stands vigil for - posing sleepless by the broken branch as if Branchsnap had died. The promise to reunite as a family later in life was simple, but Goosepaw questioned if starclan would be so straightforwards.

Branchsnap keeps him from serious medicine tasks for moons - valuing a strong foundation in herbs. By the time his nursery-mates were going to gatherings and taking hunting tests, he hadn't tended to a single wound. Goosepaw wasn't about to argue, he was a patient cat even at this age, but wanted to know why Branchsnap hadn't assigned him to any sick cats - after all, that would be his job in the future. Branchsnap had to explain. He told him that wounds are simple: You put cobwebs on wounds, you put poultice on infections, you eat herbs to recover. He could teach that every sunrise for the next fourty moons and it would not make him a better Medicine Cat. Administering medicine was not what Medicine Cats trained for, any fool with sharp teeth could do it. Until Goosepaw could diagnose a warrior before he did, identify every herb without seeing them, tell him exactly where the nearest herb patches were - he would not move onto administering medicine.

So Goosepaw trained. He walked through the woods with his eyes closed, letting whiskers and nose lead him under branches and over logs until he could bury his nose in every herb from burdock to yarrow. His training came to such a fervor that he would close his eyes and simply go about his day by smell and touch alone. Goosepaw watched the clan from the mouth of the medicine cat's den, watching the gaits and breath of the warriors as they milled about camp until he could watch a warrior bathe lazily in the sun and see the onset of greencough in the rise and fall of his chest. After a particularly rough battle resulting in Windclan casualties, Goosepaw found himself barking the same herb locations as Branchsnap at warrior assistants. His sense of his surroundings heightened, and he could soon charge through the territory with abandon, eyes closed, and reach his preferred patch of herbs.

Goosepaw knew his father would have high expectations, and Goosepaw was right. Branchsnap would only accept a perfect herb hunt, a perfect cut, a perfect leaf. But Goosepaw's poultice was to give himself higher expectations still. He would steal away from camp and pluck leaves and roots from the forest, the kinds of which Branchsnap had nothing to teach him for. Any effect at all he would note, even if it was simply a taste or a certain stringiness once chewed. Even through the bellyaches and aftertaste, he found this much more palatable than to relax with his clanmates all day. Sure, he would not miss sharing tongues each day, after all - it was a great time to check for injuries and hone his observational skills. The clan knew him as a hard worker, if not a little squirrelly.

He learned a trick, one that would become invaluable in his later years. Goosepaw learned of a time more dangerous than battle: quiet days days. Sour couples wouldnt argue, sick kits felt better, training sessions were going well... Branchsnap would prepare a would poultice on quiet days, and like clockwork someone would come in with a rabbit bite or hawk strike. It was routine, the nicks and scrapes of a clan, but Goosepaw would learn to love preparedness in the medicine den.

It was by accident that Goosepaw had spilled poppyseed by the medicine den spring, he had reprimanded himself but after trying to pick up the small seeds and crunching dirt for hours he had to give up. Next greenleaf however, the medicine cat found poppies growing right in the medicine den. It put a curious thought in his head, that perhaps, other herbs could be coaxed to grow in new locations like this. He never had the time to investigate in his apprenticeship.

"Warriorhood"

Goosepaw was now well into his warrior years, fresh apprentices at gatherings would often pale at his stature coupled with an apprentice name, Branchsnap sized him up. The bar he placed was so high, but Goosepaw had hurdled it. It was with the pride of a man who, despite greeting death so dear to his heart, was full of love. Branchsnap welcomed him to the nestside where a warrior lay injured, Goosepaw identified the broken legbone, and Branchsnap talked him through the poultice and splint. Just like that the two worked together, with both cats working the mortality rate of the clan plummeted - each passing cat gave their thanks, for this was something that a warrior noticed.

Goosepaw witnessed his first famine. A rabbit blight, something that affected few clans outside of windclan. Border skirmishes flourished, noble windclan warriors stooping to poaching in order to feed kits. The hawks got bolder, leaving nasty gashes and punctures on the hides of elders and queens who committed no crime aside from being visible. This, his father warned, would not be recovered from so quickly. Goosepaw was quizzical, as the clan had not been so affected by the dip in rabbits. However, Branchsnap lead on more than he knew. In response to less rabbits to eat, other prey like voles and mice in windclan became decimated. As hunger began to grip the clan in response, as ribs became bare, Goosepaw was shaken to find his clanmates turning against him so near the end of his apprenticeship.

Reedstar appointed a new deputy. One with spine, who was willing to do what had to be done if war arose among the clans - should other clans come to realize what was happening to Windclan's Territory. Cloudwatcher was appointed, A wide-set white cat with golden eyes known for his decisive battle calls and tactics. Cloudwatcher, Goosepaw knew, was a brutal cat. He had heard of the grizzly wounds the warrior left from the other medicine cats. Reedstar knew it too, but brutal and swift was what windclan needed if they were to survive the blight.

Cloudwatcher was a beast of change, and change he brought. When the deputy restricted prey from elders and kits from under Reedstar's nose, the medicine cats began to work doubletime to keep up with the neglect. Reedstar could only notice what a warrior would notice, and for that Goosepaw could not slight her. It was the ignorance he could not tolerate, to simply pretend that one did not know, to turn the other way. Mothers and fathers entered their den to scream at the medicine cats, there wasn't anything else they could do about the situation - the medicine cats spoke out to Reedstar, but she didn't believe Cloudwatcher could enforce such a thing. After all - he was simply a deputy. But those caught sneaking food were worked raw by Cloudwatcher until they collapsed from exhaustion, ending up in the medicine den for days.

Starving mothers and bare-boned fathers entered their den to scream at them, elders hissed and swatted as the pains of hunger drove them to do something - anything - that would expel the energy their feeble bodies could not expend. Every day felt as long as a moon with their sparse troublesome patients, sleep was unrestful, but Goosepaw held onto his pleasant disposition. When Goosepaw helped with his first litters, he did so with some blatant unease - he was upfront about his lack of knowledge. He helped Branchsnap deliver the litters that would give rise to Swirlkit and Quickkit. Branchsnap taught him another trick of the trade, to always be optimistic. A doubtful medicine cat was an untrustworthy one. To be gleeful to help is the best medicine of all. Goosepaw was able to sleep well that night, comforted by the thought.

However, Starclan has its plans. The worst was yet to come for Goosepaw, as the blight returned in earnest to the rabbits and windclan was entirely without prey. Queens and kits began to die. He stared horrified at the small, breathless body of a kit and the exhausted frame of queen who died of a heart attack mid-birth due to the stress of it all. How could Goosepaw possibly see an upside of this? Was there anything more terrible than being unable to stop the growth of the kits in your belly, to be forced to bring them into a barren world where they would immediately suffer? The apprentice swallowed dryly, as he pressed his nose to the kit's bloody flank he whispered with all the optimism he could muster: they're a beautiful kit, even in death.

Goosepaw knew he was a fledged medicine cat, standing aside his father with the same prowess he exhibited. It was nearly at random that Cloudwatcher interrupted the medicine cat's naming ceremony - Branchsnap was deemed too old to be a sharp-minded medicine cat by the deputy, Cloudwatcher rushing Branchsnap out of the medicine den and forbidding him to the elder's den. This erupted controversy among the warriors as Cloudwatcher's story of Branchsnap forgetting herbs and what the deputy's name was clearly untrue. Reedstar found herself perplexed, to choose between an aged medicine cat and a cat dedicated to keeping the clan healthy through the blight was a difficult choice to make. Regardless, Reedstar began to disrupt Cloudwatcher's over-reaches of power.

Goosepaw knew this was due to his sneaking of bundles of sorrel to the starving cats against orders, after all - he was not serving them prey. Goosepaw knew the bone-thin game Cloudwatcher was playing. After all, he was trained to be observant. With Branchsnap demoted from the position, Goosepaw knew with a twist in his heart that he could be his father once more - but the air between them remained sterile. They knew their promise held.

The next medicine meeting was a disarray without Branchsnap. The other clans knew of the blight, but not of Cloudwatcher. Even so, all Goosepaw requested was shipments of herbs. He nearly battered another medicine cat for suggesting that his training was through and that he could surely appoint an apprentice quite immediately after his naming, that another could give one to him. Goosepaw hissed. Anybody could declare him a medicine cat, but only Branchsnap could decide when he was done - truly done his training. If these other medicine cats found themselves as the truly are - truly separate from warriorhood and code - that would be remarkably apparent. From this point onwards, Goosepaw can't help but bring a slightly antagonistic approach to medicine meetings. These other cats heeded the warrior life too closely, despite having their own code. Age was never a determining factor on if one was to be a full medicine cat.

Moons passed swiftly and the injured began to fill every nest in Goosepaw's den, and he stuck by every trick, rule, and law Branchsnap gave. More yelling, more screaming, more grief surrounded Goosepaw as he struggled to keep up with the flow of injured warriors and starving cats under the knowing eye of Cloudwatcher. Goosepaw needed an apprentice to keep up with all the work - but the thought was soundly refused. A trial by fire would do no good for the future medicine cat, but if it wasn't even good for him what would it do to a frail kit with a fancy name? His thoughts traced back to the queen, to how his own heart raced, but then to the nearly twnty moon's worth of litters kits wasting away currently in the nursery. By observation he knew what kind of cat the clan would need, and between patients he deliberated who he would train. A cat who was observational, dedicated, who had every reason to work hard - someone who could brush cheeks with death with a smile betweem their whiskers. A thing he struggled with more and more these days. Each birth, each pairing, each fling the warriors gave rise to - he watched.

And he waited.

Goosetooth was never overtly religious. The fact of his birth sewed too much doubt to ever be a code-thumper, though he couldn't deny his belief nonetheless. He knew that starclan would give him his apprentice when it was time, but he also knew so very well that Starclan can make mistakes. If they did not make mistakes, there would be no need of his position. He would be a warrior by now, long in the tooth as well. His disposition was wilting.

The world was heavy. Goosetooth had seen more suffering than any cat had any right to see, the pain of his clan was heavy on his shoulders, it was so incredibly personal yet despite his position he was powerless to stop Cloudwatcher from causing more and more unnecessary strife. There was only so far a cat could bend. Every time he saw wounds he would force himself to be energize, in his den empty of herbs and full of bodies. Just as the wayward scent of herbs filled him with enthusiasm, a subtle disconnect occurred - he began to force himself to see his clanmates as patients as a good thing, the sight of wounds electrified him with excitement. His loud greetings saw less names and more disgusted looks as he greeted cats as their latest injury. Brokenleg! was the patrol not all what it was cracked up to be?, he would say. Slitgut! You look rather empty inside today!

If they were going to enter his den just to yowl and swat, by Starclan, he was going to give them a reason for it.

Goosepaw knew he was delving into madness, his age didn't help at all - but the weight of his clan, of his future apprentice, of his father, of every glare and hiss from a clanmate while stars above and abyss below he was trying - it all bent his personality out of shape. He took his training as a birthright, as his life's goal, he tried to beat back his own demons for the sake of completing it. On his worse days, Branchsnap would offer to take over the den himself. Despite the great stress of his life, Goosetooth seemed to calm himself when Branchsnap sat in the medicine den, explaining the usefulness of knowing herbs - and listening to Goosepaw in turn - put him to peace. Branchsnap could still be a medicine cat like this, even though Goosepaw took the punishment for it. It took a great deal of effort foe Branchsnap to be a mentor in these trying times, but deep in his heart where no code could reach, Branchsnap saw Goosepaw as the most important thing to him.

With the blight easing, and with Reedstar blocking Cloudwatcher's attempts to keep Branchsnap as working as a medicine cat, the pressure began to lift for the clan. It was deep in a moonless newleaf night, Branchsnap taught Goosetooth about a disease he had never heard of before. Blackcough. It was... rare. Branchsnap admitted. He had only seen a single case before, but it was a threat to any clan. It was a strange disease, Branchsnap would mention, he would warn that all types of foxhearted cats are at risk of developing it when they catch a cough. Sometimes, even, to people you love. Not that he would know, of course. He just had his suspicions.

Greencough is a tenatious disease. Cloudwatcher would learn this well.

The clan was smaller, robbed of a generation of warriors, but it made disease sweep through windclan like a moorland gale. It wasn't long until Cloudwatcher was infected, and soon nest-ridden in his den. The deputy demanded to be seen by Goosepaw, still holding to his story of Branchsnap's insanity. When Goosepaw entered, he saw the deputy laying on his side upon his nest. His breath came in rheumy gurgles, the leader's fur spiked with sweat and his eyes bleary. A green phlegm drooled from his nose and mouth as he gave a weak cough. Goosetooth gave him a look over. Prodding his stomach, rolling him over, putting an ear to his chest... The medicine cat circled him slowly, once, twice, three times.

"Hm." Goosetooth said, looking back on his long life without any recollection of a green-phlegmed cough. "I'm sorry, squishskull. Afraid I haven't a clue what this is."

And just like that, Goosepaw did what Cloudwatcher always wanted from him - and left the weak to fend for themselves. As Goosepaw left, the haggared deputy cried out after him, but the sun was bright and the birds were singing - it was no day to spend cooped up in some den. The coughing, the gurling, the vomiting - and then nothing. Cloudwatcher had died of a mysterious disease - one Goosepaw himself could not diagnose, one that didn't quite fit the bill for anything. Cloudwatcher's vigil was surrounded by indifferent warriors simply baffled on what disease he had come down with. After all, Goosepaw was an excellent medicine cat. Goosepaw had always put his clanmates first. Goosepaw would go on to bury greencough-ridden prey and send his prayer of thanks to starclan.

Perhaps Starclan made mistakes. But the cats who lived on the pelt of the earth did not have tolerate it. If starclan had such an issue with it, they could strike him down. Reedstar was as ignorant of the workings of the medicine cats as always. Branchsnap was formally allowed back into the medicine den. After all, his work was not done. It had been a good thirty moons since he was last a formal Medicine Cat, and he spent no time at all giving his son a name.

"For your valiant battle, for your wit, and for the tools you use so well. For a strength many underestimate, or simply choose to not see. Goosepaw, you have trained well, and before starclan I name you..."

Goosetooth.

Such an aggressive name for a medicine cat was... suitable. Cats in other clans knew Goosetooth was a grim cat from his toothy grins and quips, but Windclan cats truly knew of his demeanor. Another deputy was appointed, Breezebriar, and Goosetooth kept a healthy distance.

Peace had returned to the clans, and Goosetooth began to see kits brought to the world and remain alive.

[this is the part where I add the majority of the player character births, more about moorstar, ect: but for now, skip to the apprentice]

Goosetooth, more accustomed now to littering, is there when Thrushclaw and Dust-tail's arrives. Leafkit, Snailkit, and Stormkit. Goosetooth notices a kit among the batch, an oddness to its leg and the way it bent when wriggling across the nest. He struggled not to refer to the newborn as a crooked nickname as it slowly meandered, for his attention wasn't on the kit. He wanted to see, quite pointedly judgmental of the pair, how they would react to their child being born with an oddness. Yet they said not a word, if they noticed at all. It would put quite an annoyance in the back of Goosetooth's brain for the next moons. If only they noted the constant flick of his ticked tail, watching from afar as the kit's parents palled and stalled when the enthusiastic little thing boasted of becoming an apprentice.

Goosetooth was, and still is, a bitter old man. Some say his mother was a fox, but perhaps it was sound for Goosetooth to judge the young parents. The name. Snailkit. See, his uncouth nicknames may be a quirk of his, but they stayed within the medicine den for the most part. He knew it was for the kit's lack of speed, but he was curious on whether or not Thrushclaw and Dust-tail would consider Snailkit becoming his medicine apprentice before he spoke up of it. Yet the notion seemed to breeze right through their airy, empty skulls. He watched as they hummed and hawwed about its future. Words he would not vocalize though he would love to, yet still, Reedstar had not punished him for thinking poorly of others... yet. As she grew with the other kits he saw that she had the spirit, the tenacity, the gall to look at her state in such a vicious world and simply pay it no mind. By starclan, he was jealous. Goosetooth knew that there was a strength within her that was the kind to move clans. No bum leg would stop such a cat, much less even be within consideration. If he could simply train her as well as Branchsnap trained him, he had no doubt she would surpass him. Unfortunately, warriors were always so keen on shoving their nose in medical affairs and assuming they held a medcat's knowledge in one paw and starclan's decisiveness in another.

He had later explained to the parents that the leg was an inheritance. Branchsnap's mentor had seen it, it was really quite an oddity, but the kit was be perfectly healthy - in fact, healthier than her littermates in most regards. In the moment they seemed receptive to his talkings, but he could watch as their feelings slowly faded and they strapped their warrior sensibilities back on as they left the den and interacted with Snailkit. Bah. Maybe he was old, but cats these days certainly didn't know how to parent properly, much less get anything done. He had dropped plenty of hints that he could take in the cat, but it fell on preoccupied ears. At the gathering where Leafkit and Stormkit were apprenticed, he expected to have to intervene. Curious on how Thrushclaw and Dust-tail would explain knowing what they knew now, he held his tongue, claws dug into the dirt to keep him down. He wanted to see, so he watched with his icy eyes as Snailkit's parents hummed, hawwed, and dismissed Snailkit's concern instead of explaining the situation. So aggravated was he that he could chew straight through a glade of birch trees all on his lonesome, but he kept his teeth clenched.

The way others had ostracized Snailkit was something he noticed most of all, unintentional neglect aside. He hoped Snailkit did not notice him peering out of the medicine den each sunhigh to check if the apprentice had made any new acquaintances, but you would have to be blind to not see the loneliness burdening the little frame when Dovepaw was absent. He knew he could not be the friend Snailkit needed, and tried to persuade the gutsier apprentices who landed in his den to be kinder to the cat. If he was ever called into the apprentice den, he left a few new clods of moss around her nest out of concern. It was wasteful, he knew, but with how Snailkit was nose-to-tailtip with Dovepaw from sunrise to sunset... starclan knew Snailpaw needed a watchful eye, and worse of all a friend. Unfortunately, he was... relatively certain he scared the thing simply by being in its line of sight. Even still, the curiosity Goosetooth had since her birth remained.

Then came a quiet, sunny day.

There are days when the clan is too quiet. No thorns in any pads, no burrs shoved up nostrils, no stray dandelion seeds finding their way into the ear of a mighty warrior. These days Goosetooth would wet moss, bundle cobweb, and chew poltices - he had learned well of what complacency breeds. It was just disappointed to learn it was Dovepaw.

He expected an apprentice, but by the stars, he prayed it was not her and her alone. The moment the name Dovepaw dropped from a warrior's tongue he was off like a shock through the turf with his herbs. Those who knew Goosetooth knew him to never break a walking pace, but as he sped across the territory fire burned along his back, joints sparking embers as he forced himself through arthritis to reach that damned bloody apprentice as fast as his old bones could carry him. All the while, he cursed. They were at the thunderpath, the warriors had said. He did not have high hopes. After today, he would walk with a limp for pushing himself to sprint.

Dovepaw was practically smeared down the thunderpath, a small fuzzy lump next to a blood-dipped body that he recognized immediately as Dovepaw with Snailpaw at her side. Snailpaw watched with the roundest eyes, so heavy with tears and question, as Goosetooth greeted the apprentice as 'Snapspine' and with boundless excitement - got to work.

He did what he could. There was too much broken within her little body to expect her to live, and it is with utter disgust towards the stars that he was faced with the fact that he was forbidden from simply strangling her on the spot to rid her of the pain. But with Snailpaw watching so closely... he could not simply let the shecat lay there, and neither would he taunt the medicine cat code. Poppyseed, catmint, dock. To ease her, mainly. It was too much to chew so suddenly, but his intuition to prepare it bought Dovepaw another moment below Silverpelt. He ordered Snailpaw to find and dress the skinned parts of her friend.

The warriors froze. They would recognize the tone as Branchsnap quipping to a younger Goosepaw.

He knew Dovepaw's bones were worse than broken, that blood does not erupt from bodies like that without ruptured innards, and no cat could live without that much skin. There was no way to move her, no way to know where she ended and the thunderpath began, so he got to work. Blood sopped with moss as deft as a belly-strike, fur groomed of blood until a pink tinge remained, mechanical and swift with the technique of a well-trained medicine cat. He had Snailkit roll Dovepaw to allow her to breathe just a few moments more, Goosetooth waiting, counting heartbeats, stalking the time for the medicine to do its job. He nodded for Snailpaw to rest.

As the poppyseeds calmed the fear of death within Dovepaw, soothed by a Snailpaw who refused to leave her friend, who could withstand the sight of the guts and gore and the most personal of tragedy without losing her mind. His own vision practically swam with distortion, but Goosetooth watched Dovepaw relax for one last time, before seeing the light in her eyes leave to join the silverpelt. There was a moment of relief sighed among the patrol.

Warriors attack enemies, tresspassers, hawks and foxes - and Goosetooth attacked death, beating it paws and claws away from the young and the sick of Windclan. But no territory stayed the same. There are days where Goosetooth could simply not help. These were the days he would obsess, chastise himself, grin a little further and croak something a bit more grim to an onlooker. The old cat set his teeth.

Dovepaw died on his watch. Another kit he was there to litter, another kit he was there to watch die. Snailpaw did not see him watching her body, intently.

She had just proved her herself as a worthy apprentice... if Goosetooth had been any other medicine cat, he would've named her on the spot. Yet he observed still, so maddeningly patient, as the warriors loaded the twisted remains of Dovepaw onto their backs and walked her home to camp. He could tell Snailpaw was griefstricken. Of course she was. But... he was impressed with her lack of dramatics, the openness of her heart, he knew she would not fall into the trappings that were rotting him from the inside out. Thirty moons ago he could've taken his first apprentice. He watched generations of warriors live and die, and none of them held the strength, will, and heart that Snailpaw did. He was sure of this.

Goosetooth watched the vigil. Perhaps medicine cats were held to the expectation that one puts herbs on wounds, but Goosetooth knew that being kind to the dead and those they leave behind was more important than a proper splint. He watched as Snailpaw murmured with others, at times weeping, but not losing composure. She nosed into the body with the others, and not once did she rise from the vigil.

When the moon was low, the sun just barely clawing into the sky, Goosetooth appeared from the medicine den and limped quietly across the camp towards the cluster. Snailpaw jumped to her paws as he neared, a blazing fire in her eyes, but Goosetooth deftly shoved a paw in her mouth before she could speak and truly break her vigil.

"I agree." He spoke. "You will make a fine apprentice, Looseleg."

His expression did not change. In the back of his mind, he snickered to himself. He had waited 8 very long moons for that. To this day, he has not called Snailpaw by her name.

APPRENTICESHIP:

Goosetooth made it absolutely clear that being his apprentice did not equate to a cushy life poking at leaves. Each rigor his father imparted upon him he was sure to introduce without hesitation. It was hard, he knew, but even when Snailpaw failed to sniff down herbs she did not curse herself the way he would. But... when she could find it. That excitement, he could feel it. The same excitement that had her bubbling and happy was the same that pushed Goosetooth to rename his patients horrid things. This time, he would be careful not to see this passion twisted. It was unfortunate that he would watch delight flicker out of her eyes as she realized she had naught a soul outside the medicine den to share her excitement with.

However, Goosetooth's dedication to ensure his apprentice lead a decent life was distracted. At their first journey there, he had noticed the moonpool was low. He scoffed, really, but that night he made sure to impart an important lesson upon his apprentice:

there will be time where the entire clan seems to depend on you. it is because if you blink, they will die. that is a promise. a promise between me, and you, and starclan. if it all seems too much... it is because indeed it is much too much. but in the coming moons, he wished to make a new promise. Under no circumstance was Snailpaw to act the way he did under pressure. She was to note each and every way his psyche cracked, and to learn of the illnesses of the heart. It was as much a warning of his undoing as it was a lesson.

Goosetooth warned of Blackcough. A disease that cats caught when leafbare struck their heart, turning catblood to foxblood and destroying clans until cured. He told her very carefully the cure: holly berries. It was never to be used on a cat otherwise. She quietly asked if he had ever cured Blackcough. He told her that windclan medicine cats are... particularly good at curing blackcough. Goosetooth would never speak of the disease again.

But Goosetooth knew exactly what happens to him when plague and famine hit the clans. He was a monster, worse than the ones who chewed cats up on the thunderpath and spit them out. The sick-names got worse - deadface, rottengut, ripbelly - but never would he put his ire to Snailpaw. At times it would slip from his tongue, but he recoiled at the bitterness he produced and made certain to heartily apologize. Snailpaw was too young to do shiftwork alone, he knew she did not have a full understanding yet - it was a harrowing reminder of his own apprenticeship. He would not sleep when it was his shift to sleep. Snailpaw would notice that he murmured in his sleep, answers and questions and anecdotes, facts and herbs and scoldings... well, after dedicating your life to it, its bound to leak out.

The sleep-talking? Yeah. He was awake. Branchsnap helped in the den while Goosetooth half-dozed, explaining to Snailpaw in a wry hush that this was another of his son's bad habits. Goosetooth was old, but Branchsnap was positively and absolutely ancient by this time - imparting stories of Goosetooth's youth and apprenticeship, reminding the apprentice of the cat that he was underneath his rough, unfeeling exterior. Branchsnap was touched that Goosetooth emulated his mentoring style with such accuracy. Despite the times, Branchsnap working as a medicine cat despite being a retired elder caused some tension between clans... especially in Skyclan, which was struggling with illness.

Goosetooth could count on two paws how many nights he actually slept for the duration of the moon, but he refused to leave Snailpaw under equipped for war the two of them had to wage. Sleep is sacred for the medicine cat, and this became apparent when Snailpaw received a message from Starclan.

Goosetooth is a proud, hard-nosed cat. Not one to praise, or to even purr - his father had never praised him, and he did not seek it. Not a whisker on his face twinged without his saying-so... But through the sleep deprivation, through his shredded sanity, through his stress and aches, he would be a liar if he said he did not grow emotional at the news. The very concept of Starclan recognizing this little cat so early in her life nearly stopped his old heart, while he was confident before that Snailpaw would become the best medicine cat the forest had ever seen, he was convinced now that it would be true. He could only do so much, but by Starclan's will, she would redefine what the position meant.

He had waited nearly 100 moons for an apprentice. The wait was worth it.

Goosetooth backed his apprentice, and her message that the clans must leave the territories. Flanked by Branchsnap on the other side, and he still recounts with a devious grin that he thwacked Reedstar each day she hesitated to make the decision to leave the old territory. Why, Snailpaw told us to leave. Its the word of Starclan, is it not? After all, Reedstar, you know that Starclan makes no mistakes. As Medicine Cat, it was Goosetooth's duty to convey the message of starclan, after all. If that message needed to be conveyed by his paw greeting Reedstar's head early every morning, before she had the chance to wake, so be it. It was Starclan's will. Goosetooth certainly had the last maniacal laugh at the gathering when it had appeared that several cats across the clans had received such a message. Goosetooth was not entirely faithful to starclan, but he did, however, have full faith in Snailpaw.

Sometimes faith can be challenging.

When the little apprentice had told him she needed to go along with another group of cats, ahead of the others, to scout for the new territory... Goosetooth found himself blindsided for the first time in his life. He didn't let his shock show more than a twitch, and he nodded quite slowly before wishing her well on the trek. He packed all the herbs that could fit in a bundle and handed it over. He watched as he said his farewells to Looseleg and sent her on her way.

Branchsnap looked quite wry as he noted Goosetooth's subtle response. He knew there would be a little Snailpaw sized hole in his chest.

"It seems you care for Snailpaw." Branchsnap would say.
"I simply cannot hear such a frail voice, Oldbones."
"You will miss her. She's the only one who tolerates you anymore."
"Don't be silly. You're still here, aren't you?"

==JOURNEY==

The journey was none to kind to Goosetooth. The cold, the steep inclines, the speed of which the warriors marched - the lot of it had him quite sour indeed. Especially the parts when all the clans were mingling as one. Other medicine cats would get quite cross at him for his antics, but none of them could seal a wound as effectively as he could with low supplies. It... was simply a matter of if he could keep up.

In his spare time, when the clan was still, he would go back to his old hobbies of trying the plants in the territory. Well, he was quite excited for the notion of new herbs, and began to try whatever new-shaped leaf he could spot. After a few stomach-aches and vomitings, he did find that at the end of the day, his body could shrug the cold just the slightest bit easier. After review, he found a ginger plant that when eaten, made his body feel warm. The tradeoff was a sore stomach and awful taste, but it was too pertinant an effect to simply ignore. He told Snailpaw the next time they met, allowing the apprentice to decide whether or not it was worthwhile to her journey. However... he noticed a sort of dreaminess in her eyes, as though her attention lay elsewhere. Goosetooth was curious, but he knew that look from many moons ago.

About
Positive
Neutral
Negative

| Wise | Forward-Thinker | Hard Worker | Optimist | Urge to Act | Dark Humor | Codebreaker | Harrowed |

Positive Trait 1: Wise
In his old age, Goosetooth is level-headed and has been part of things most cats only hear of. He's a good person to consult when considering the future. This is tied to his Optimist trait.

Positive Trait 2: Forward-Thinker
The status quo is background noise to Goosetooth - he is not one to sit idle and accept the world as it is. This is tied to his Urge to Act and Optimist traits.

Positive Trait 3: Hard Worker
Above all else Goosetooth strives for work well done. He's a stern mentor and hard-nosed when it comes to treatment, but he is not unfair. He gained this trait from his father Branchsnap, and is tied to his Urge to Act trait.

Neutral Trait 1: Optimist
Forcing yourself to see the bright side of any situation isn't always appropriate - but sometimes its just what's needed. This is tied to his Dark Humor, Wise, and Forward-Thinker traits.

Neutral Trait 2: Urge To Act
Goosetooth will act as he pleases, even when its safer to stay put. Every choice is an opportunity, and Goosetooth grabs it. This is tied to his Codebreaker, Harrowed, and Hard Worker traits.

Negative Trait 1: Dark Humor
The nestside manner of a medicine cat probably shouldn't include quips about their mortality and injuries. This was gained through Gorsestar's stress upon Ravenclan, and it is tied deeply to his Optimist trait.

Negative Trait 2: Codebreaker
In his life Goosetooth has broken the warrior code, though he is a medicine believes he is simply correcting for what Starclan could not. His fate in the afterlife isn't guaranteed. This is deeply tied to his Urge to Act trait.

Negative Trait 3: Harrowed
Grief-stricken at a young age and under his time with Gorsestar, Goosetooth has been irreversibly changed. This has lead him to have several irrational dislikes, as well as an off-kilter personality. This is tied to his Codebreaker, Dark Humor, and Urge to Act.

Likes: Duck. Blood, Sputum, ect. Medicine. Polite warriors.
Dislikes: Deputies (Irrational - a learned trait). "Strong warriors", most parents of kits
Fears: Birth complications, kit death, famine, being alone

Other Information:

Relationships
Orientation: Working
Looking for: Are you hurt? No? Go away *smack*
Ideal Relationship and Traits: A strong stem and wide leaves, not wrinkled or wilted due to improper conditions.

Mentor: Branchsnap
Apprentice: Snailpaw
Crush: A good night's fucking sleep
Mate:
Ex-Mate/s: Mental soundness
Kin: Branchsnap, Stumpnose (Desceased)

ExampleClan
Exampleclaw | @ | - Relationship Description

Roleplay
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