Backstory
[Weta] • [Wetapaw] • [Wetapatch]
Early Life
Born as “Weta” to a much-too-young mother, he was the product of a twoleg kitten mill. As soon as he was able to eat solid foods, he was taken from his mother, along with his siblings, and kept in a large nasty room with other kittens. Twolegs would come and go, and would usually end up taking one or two of the kittens with them. Weta was about 6 weeks old when he was adopted by a young twoleg and their parents. The first few days at his new home were scary, but he liked the twoleg kit, the toys that were offered to him, and the pets.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before the twoleg kit lost interest in him, and he was taken downstairs and kept in a basement room with a dozen or so other cats of various ages. The room had one very small window and that was the only light source. The other cats were hostile, but explained to him that the same thing had happened to them. A few of these cats had been in the basement for years. It was a filthy room with various broken items, stacks of twoleg things, a litter pan in the corner that had never been cleaned, and a slimy water dish. Every few days, if that, one of the adult twolegs would come downstairs and throw a bowl full of pellets in the middle of the room, and the cats would fight to get their food.
Weta stayed in this room in the dark for over a year, growing into an aggressive adult with no social skills. He had no memory of life outside the room, he had only seen the sun through the dusty window in the corner, and he had no hope for the future. He was an empty shell with vacant thoughts, only worried about the next fight for food.
Adolescence
Right before winter he was hit by a car. It wasn’t a bad injury, it mainly grazed his shoulder, but he was thrown a great distance and lost consciousness. He awoke in a silver cage, in a bright room with other caged cats and twolegs. For a split second, his mind gave up, but the twoleg who opened his cage was kind, spoke gently to him, and touched him softly. He was not quick to touch, but she offered him the most delicious food he had ever had, and so he eventually warmed up to her, and waited to see her every day. One day she took him from the cage and placed him on a table, stuck something sharp into his arm, and he passed out. He awoke feeling different, and hurting.
Weta was released back onto the streets feeling like a new cat, where he was nabbed by a different twoleg and taken away. Weta was then passed from home to home for the next year or so of his life, until he managed to escape to the streets again. This time, he had had enough, and set out to find the forest that the old BloodClan cats spoke of, assuming it was real. He spoke to multiple cats along the way and eventually stood on the outside of Clan territory.
He didn’t know the rules here. From the rumors he knew that Clan cats were ferocious, hated outsiders, and would kill any stranger who looked at them. But other accounts said they were loyal to each other, helpful, and forgiving. He decided to risk it and stepped into ShadowClan territory.
He was taken by a patrol to the leader, and asked to join their Clan. He spoke of his life as a street cat and a kittypet, and promised that he was able to hunt and fight for himself so he wouldn’t be dead weight. The leader allowed him to join, but made him an apprentice despite his age. He was fine with this.
Being the world’s oldest apprentice did not bother Wetapaw. What bothered him were the remarks from the other cats, warriors and apprentices alike, calling him names and referring to him as “halfcat” due to his altered state. Along with the fact that he was formerly a loner and a kittypet, he was a real target for bullying, but he held firm. It was springtime, and he spent all of his free time in the woods in the sun, and the fur on his back started getting lighter. All the while, he grew more bitter and cynical. He quickly learned what his mentor taught him about fighting and hunting, but he was particularly interested in what the Clan healer knew.
Wetapaw was not interested in medicine to help other cats, or to fix them or heal their pain. He did not want to become a healer to learn herbs, or have a better connection to StarClan. The concept of medicine fascinated him. He saw how respected Parsleynose was by all of the Clan, even the leader. He was jealous of her position, and knew that if he were a healer, everyone would need him. He would hold power in the Clan, not through seniority but through necessity. The Clan needs a healer to operate. He became a healer so they would have to rely on him, and so that he could hold their lives in his paws. He wanted them to be well aware of how important he was, and how much power he had.
At first, the Clan opposed him becoming a healer, as it is a sacred job and they believed only true Clanborn cats should have the privilege. Parsleynose, however, fully embraced the idea, as did the Clan leader, so his profession was changed. He learned quickly and diligently, and was eager to go out into the territory and collect herbs for his old mentor. Cats opposed him practicing medicine on them until Parsleynose snarled at them, and eventually the general attitude of the Clan changed to accept him.
Adulthood
The average apprenticeship is about 6 moons, maybe a few more for healer apprentices. Wetapaw was a healer apprentice for about 2 years before he was finally made a full healer and given the name Wetapatch. He did not mind the long training, it meant that he had fully earned his title. Parsleynose got sick soon after, and while she stayed in the Medicine den, Wetapatch unofficially became the main healer.
After Parsleynose got sick, Wetapatch was confronted in camp by a cat named Adderdapple and her posse. Adderdapple had been one of his main antagonists through his apprenticeship, through name-calling, jeering, and false-charging him to keep him on edge. She also encouraged others to do the same. While this sort of behavior toned down a bit after he was made a full healer, she did not stop. She cornered him while he walked into camp and started going on and on about him and how he’s tainting the Clan, a scourge on the good name of healers or whatever, but the final straw is when she mentions that Parsleynose is only dying to get away from him. Wetapatch snaps, a moment of rage betraying his cool level-headed exterior, and he attacks her.
Life as a rogue made him strong and deadly. He pins her down without any difficulty and carefully scratches a long and deep scratch over her face, going slow while she struggles. Not for the purpose of making her feel pain, but to leave a scar. So every time she saw her reflection she would remember him. After he was done, he released her, left for the medicine den, and returned with herbs and cobwebs, and dressed the wounds while the crowd looked on in shock. He told her to visit him tomorrow to change the bandages, and then returned to his den. (Surprising both herself and Wetapatch, a few days after this event Adderdapple would approach him and apologize with full sincerity, which Wetapatch accepted. After that, their relationship could be considered “professionally tense”)
Of course he would be reprimanded for this, but as the only functioning healer, there was not much that could be done about it. He had finally stood up for himself and proven that he was not to be messed with ever again.
Wetapatch was an excellent healer, despite his cold bedside manner. He was honest, patient, and firm when necessary. Catching him in a rare good mood would reward the listener with snippets of wisdom that only a cat that has been through hell and back can offer. While an important figure in the Clan, he had no strong relationships or friends with anyone besides Parsleynose until her inevitable death and a loner-turned-warrior named Scorch, who would later become Scorchstar.
Wetapatch’s relationship with StarClan before the Cicada can be considered “strained”. While he had visited with them before, he was uncertain that they held all the magical power that the Clanborn cats claimed. As an apprentice, meeting the spirits of dead cats that he had no knowledge of made him uncomfortable. There was something unnatural about the way that they looked and spoke that made him feel a sense of oncoming dread, even if he couldn’t locate a threat. He was sure that they knew how he felt about them, and though they claimed to know his fate he didn’t believe them. It wasn’t until Parsleynose joined their ranks that he finally started to relax, start to trust them, and let them play a bigger role in his healer career. Though he was still a bit unsettled in the back of his mind, he started to believe that they did hold a degree of power and metaphorically guided every cats’ pawsteps.
