Hello and welcome to Purrgatory! We are an 18+ Warrior Cat Roleplay set in an AU where the clans were unable to leave the forest territories and perished!
It has been 100 or more years since then, the clans of the forest are but distant memories to any cats still alive, stories passed down to kits of strangely named wild warriors and leaders with nine lives but the time of the clans is upon us once more and the stars shine yet again.
child neglect and abandonment and injury description
remember me for centuries
She winces slightly as she adjusts her position because her injured leg hurts. She isn't sure anymore what she is supposed to do now. Her goal had always been to impress her mother and gain her approval, but her mother is gone now. Without a goal she doesn't know what to do. She would have followed her mother, but walking hurts too much. Her mother never was a very warm cat even with her brothers, but until today, she hadn't been outright mean to her. If anything she'd get a disapproving look as if she wanted to say "You can do better." or she told her to be more like her brothers. That is of course if she payed attention to her at all. She simply never was good enough to warrant much attention from her mother. Unlike her brothers. They were always better than her and would get attention and approving words from her mother. They didn't seem to like her too. They'd always make fun of her size and taunt her for not being good enough. She just wanted to prove to them she could be good too. That's why she tried extra hard at her first climbing lesson yesterday. Perhaps she hadn't been as careful as she should have been because of this. For once she had wanted to be better than her brothers. She hadn't payed enough attention where she should put her paws and one misplaced paw was all it took for her to slip and fall to the ground. It had really hurt and she could hear a sickening crack from her leg. She couldn't walk when she tried to, her leg just hurt too much. This morning her mother grabbed her by the scruff and carried her here. Like usually she hadn't been gentle with her. She practically let her fall when they got here and just left her. When she asked why all her mother said was: "You're nothing but a burden and I don't have time for that."
Creek had hoped all the time that her mother would come back eventually despite already having a feeling she wouldn't. It has been a really long time since her mother had left, so perhaps it's time to admit she won't come back. Her mother doesn't want her anymore. Maybe she never wanted her. Without meaning to she starts to cry at this realisation. Tears just start to well out of her eyes even though she doesn't want to cry. She shouldn't cry. Crying means weakness and she isn't weak, won't be weak anymore.]
Creek she/her
♡ a small blue spotted tabby with a white chin, blaze, belly, paws and tail tip, blue eyes and a noticeable limp on her left hind leg
♡ loner, future kit of Shadowclan
♡ 4 moons; ages on the 14th of every month
♡ speechthoughtphysical interactionsattack
♡ healing and peaceful powerplay is allowed
Wolfpack was the wrong cat for the situation. He knew that the moment he stumbled upon the scene of an injured child on the border, tears streaming down their face.
He lacked the sympathy, the gentle voice or understanding look. It just wasn't a part of him– not an easily accessible one, at least, and certainly not at the beck and call of a stranger he had no obligations to. In a time before Shadowclan, he might not have even stopped for her.
If he had, she certainly would have wished he hadn't.
But things were different, now. He wasn't some rogue drifter looking out for himself in a borderless world. He was the Shadowclan Deputy, and that made things his business. Put expectation and obligation on him by default.
And while he looked at this child and saw only a waste of herbs for a cat who might not even fully recover enough to pay them back for it– or the food and resources they'd take up by staying one healed– he knew his clanmates wouldn't view it the same way. Their hearts would tell them to be kind, to show mercy, and he already walked a razors edge with many of them to begin with, the rift too wide to encourage actual friendship.
Morals were hard to understand when you'd been raised without them, but that didn't mean he was blind on how it worked, and running an injured kid off or abandoning them on the border for the next fox to claim wouldn't win him any points with his clan.
He doubted saving the brat would, either, to be fair.
"Crying won't fix anything." he said in way of greeting once he'd reached her, coming a stop a few taillengths away.
"That injury is pretty bad." he noted, wondering how the hell she'd gotten this far to begin with. Someone had to to have brought them here, and the realization grated on him, knowing that the local loners just expected them to fix whatever broken things they left on their scentlines. And it was clear somethign was broken in this kit. The leg sat at an odd angle, refusing to have pressure put on it, and he had a feeling the flesh wound was just the tip of the iceberg.
"I know some cats who might be able to help. Can you walk at all, or do you need me to carry you?" He could be wrong. He doubted heavily that Cicada would feel much sympathy about the matter. Might like her as an experiment, if anything. But Sable would chew his ear off if he learned Wolf didn't at least bring the kit back to be checked out. "Unless you'd prefer to stay here and wait for the next fox to come along?"
The number of kits had swelled every few months, as if their borders called for the passing sway of abandoning motherhood right as ShadowClan's nursery was emptying out. It was not so demanding on Sablestar's back as it was on his Caretakers, and he was lucky that he had not run into a moment where they could not hunt enough to feed the numbers of the nursery. But now with Jade's kits on the way and creeping closer to arriving, the kits Timberfrost and Stoatpaw had found, he worries for just how farther their limits may be pushed.
"I'll carry her." Sablestar mewed as he took a stride to stand beside his deputy, unable to ignore the drive of a father to protect the kit from harm. He would not make her walk in such poor shape wit he her twisted limb, even if she refused. "You are lucky we found you and not something more dangerous looking to make you a meal, kid. Some survival skills could do you good..." The tuxedo mumbled in his own chiding after Wolfpack's, motioning for his deputy to lead on while he held the kit in his scruff.
Cicadabuzz's den would have to suffice in place of the nursery until she recovered. If she were lucky, Magpiepaw would make better company than bug.
Cloudberrypaw could at least say that they had not been this much of a burden. Their parents did not think their condition so ruinous that they must become another's issue. Perhaps now, walking alongside Wolfpack and feeling distantly his shift of emotions - from careless to forced care - she can thank Cherrydawn and Cicadabuzz for continuing to try when they very much could've done otherwise. And then she remembers the deathberry. And she remembers the way her life wanted to slip from her so desperately, yet flowed back into her body still. Is that much different? Maybe the stranger intended for a merciful end for their otherwise able-bodied child.
Sablestar scoops the kitten up, and Cloudberrypaw subdues the frustration that naturally boils. Cicadabuzz will have a new child to fawn over and yet again refuse to feel the tangible pain that comes with losing her. She'll live another day, no thanks to bug's constant rememedies, at least. "Do you... have a name?" She inquires of the youth, keeping pace but not making any effort to look the new feline in the eye. She's already risking her capacity by speaking at all. Not to mention curiosity is not her strong suit... not anymore, at least.
She tries to blink her tears away when the stranger approaches and looks at him with wide eyes. He's right, crying won't fix anything. She tries to force herself to stop and manages beside a few remaining sniffles. He's offering her help it seems. She hesitates, should she accept? She doesn't know this cat, but then again does she have a choice at all? She can bare move with her injuries, much less hunt for herself. Accepting his help seems to be the only option she has. "No, I appreciate it. I can't walk, it hurts too much." She finally says. Right now this cat seems to want to help her. But what if he eventually sees her as a burden too? What will happen then? He'll probably do the same her mother did, right? This can't happen, not again, she won't let this happen again. From this day on, she will be different. She won't be a burden anymore, won't be weak or let anyone see her as weak ever again. She'll show them what she's capable of.
Another stranger comes to the scene. They seem to know each other. In the end he is the one to carry her. "Thank you." She mumbles, not sure if she should say anything else. She doesn't know where they are going, but she's glad she doesn't have to walk. Wherever that is, she doubts she would have made it that far, not when her leg hurts so much when she tries walking. Someone ask for her name. She's older than her, but seems to be younger than the others. She hesitates with an answer. She doesn't want to be Creek anymore. Creek is all the things she isn't going to be anymore and if she wants that she feels like she needs a different name. Of course she could just lie, could say she doesn't have a name. But… would lying to the ones who offered her help really be a good idea? She decides that it's better to stay quiet on that matter.]
Creek she/her
♡ a small blue spotted tabby with a white chin, blaze, belly, paws and tail tip, blue eyes and a noticeable limp on her left hind leg
♡ loner, future kit of Shadowclan
♡ 4 moons; ages on the 14th of every month
♡ speechthoughtphysical interactionsattack
♡ healing and peaceful powerplay is allowed
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