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.
☼ TICKPAW
An introduction, perhaps with a short physical & mental description. Morbi lacinia sodales velit, sit amet egestas est euismod eu. In cursus sodales enim, dapibus efficitur dui dignissim bibendum. Ut dictum semper massa, facilisis euismod est porttitor sed. Curabitur fringilla pulvinar purus et malesuada.
✧ Tickpaw
✧ Thoughts, "Speech"
✧ Fullbody ref
✧ Longer description. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi lacinia sodales velit, sit amet egestas est euismod eu. In cursus sodales enim, dapibus efficitur dui dignissim bibendum. Ut dictum semper massa, facilisis euismod est porttitor sed. Curabitur fringilla pulvinar purus et malesuada. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.
( + ) positive traits ( / ) neutral traits ( - ) negative traits
✧Tickpaw is a cat shaped by hardship, carrying the scars of his past both physically and emotionally. Defensive and quick to lash out, he keeps his distance from others, using sharp words and bared fangs to push them away before they can hurt him first. Though he hisses and growls like a cornered animal, his aggression is fueled by fear rather than malice. The dark unsettles him, bringing back memories he'd rather forget, but he would rather suffer in silence than admit weakness.
Fiercely loyal to his siblings, Tickpaw sees them as his only true allies. He clings to them, trusting no one else, and refuses to let ShadowClan take their place in his heart. To him, the Clan is simply a place to survive, not a home. While others train to prove themselves, Tickpaw trains because he has to, because the world is harsh, and weakness means death.
Blunt and sharp-tongued, he doesn't mince words, often coming off as rude even when he doesn't mean to be. He scoffs at sentimentality and rolls his eyes at kindness, convinced that nothing in life comes without a cost. Deep down, though, a part of him longs for stability, for safety, for something more than just surviving. But trust is dangerous, and letting his guard down? Unthinkable.
Parent x Parent | siblings
✧ Likes
✧ Dislikes
✧ Hates
✧ Will start/end fight, will/won't show mercy, will/won't run away
✧ Excels at skill, other skill
✧ Poor at skill, other skill
✧ Peaceful powerplay allowed/not, harmful powerplay allowed/within limits/not
✧ Smells like
✧ Tickpaw was born in a litter of three, his mother a frail and sickly she-cat who struggled to care for them in the harsh environment of the mill. Despite her best efforts, her body couldn't endure the strain, and only a few weeks after giving birth, she passed away. Tick, too young to understand, wailed beside her lifeless form, desperate for warmth and comfort that would never come. His cries caught the attention of the other mill cats, and he was eventually placed with a nursing queen who already had three kits of her own.
For a time, it seemed like he had found a new family. He clung to his adoptive siblings, seeking solace in their shared warmth. But the mill was a cruel place, full of dangers lurking in the shadows. One by one, his siblings began to disappear—some stolen away in the night, others simply vanishing without a trace. The fear gnawed at Tick, growing with each loss until it consumed him entirely. He fought, he hissed, he stayed awake at night with his tiny claws unsheathed, waiting for whatever horror would come for him next.
When the fear became too much to bear, he fled. His small paws carried him as far as they could, driven by an instinctive desperation to escape, to survive. He ran through unfamiliar lands, his body growing weaker with every step. Hunger and exhaustion weighed him down, and sickness soon took hold, making his vision blur and his limbs shake.
He doesn't remember exactly when he collapsed, only that the world had been spinning and the scent of pine had filled his nose.
An introduction, perhaps with a short physical & mental description. Morbi lacinia sodales velit, sit amet egestas est euismod eu. In cursus sodales enim, dapibus efficitur dui dignissim bibendum. Ut dictum semper massa, facilisis euismod est porttitor sed. Curabitur fringilla pulvinar purus et malesuada.
. ☼ .
———-,. ° ✧- GENERAL INFO -✧ ° .-,———
———-,. ° ✧- GENERAL INFO -✧ ° .-,———
✧ Tickpaw
↪ meaning
✧ male & he/him↪ none
✧ 6 moons↪ birthday
✧ ShadowClan & Apprentice✧ Thoughts, "Speech"
↪ Voiceclaim
. ☼ .
———-,. ° ✧- APPEARANCE -✧ ° .-,———
———-,. ° ✧- APPEARANCE -✧ ° .-,———
✧ Fullbody ref
✧ Longer description. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi lacinia sodales velit, sit amet egestas est euismod eu. In cursus sodales enim, dapibus efficitur dui dignissim bibendum. Ut dictum semper massa, facilisis euismod est porttitor sed. Curabitur fringilla pulvinar purus et malesuada. Orci varius natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.
↪ Scars, injuries, other notable traits
. ☼ .
———-,. ° ✧- PERSONALITY -✧ ° .-,———
———-,. ° ✧- PERSONALITY -✧ ° .-,———
( + ) positive traits ( / ) neutral traits ( - ) negative traits
✧Tickpaw is a cat shaped by hardship, carrying the scars of his past both physically and emotionally. Defensive and quick to lash out, he keeps his distance from others, using sharp words and bared fangs to push them away before they can hurt him first. Though he hisses and growls like a cornered animal, his aggression is fueled by fear rather than malice. The dark unsettles him, bringing back memories he'd rather forget, but he would rather suffer in silence than admit weakness.
Fiercely loyal to his siblings, Tickpaw sees them as his only true allies. He clings to them, trusting no one else, and refuses to let ShadowClan take their place in his heart. To him, the Clan is simply a place to survive, not a home. While others train to prove themselves, Tickpaw trains because he has to, because the world is harsh, and weakness means death.
Blunt and sharp-tongued, he doesn't mince words, often coming off as rude even when he doesn't mean to be. He scoffs at sentimentality and rolls his eyes at kindness, convinced that nothing in life comes without a cost. Deep down, though, a part of him longs for stability, for safety, for something more than just surviving. But trust is dangerous, and letting his guard down? Unthinkable.
↪ Quirks, mannerisms
. ☼ .
———-,. ° ✧- RELATIONSHIPS -✧ ° .-,———
———-,. ° ✧- RELATIONSHIPS -✧ ° .-,———
Parent x Parent | siblings
Slow/quick to trust, slow/quick to befriend, does/does not hold grudges
✧ Mentor to/mentored by↪ Previously mentor to/mentored by
✧ Mate to↪ open/closed to plots
✧ Friend with✧ Likes
✧ Dislikes
✧ Hates
. ☼ .
———-,. ° ✧- INTERACTIONS -✧ ° .-,———
———-,. ° ✧- INTERACTIONS -✧ ° .-,———
✧ Will start/end fight, will/won't show mercy, will/won't run away
✧ Excels at skill, other skill
✧ Poor at skill, other skill
✧ Peaceful powerplay allowed/not, harmful powerplay allowed/within limits/not
✧ Smells like
↪ penned by you :)
. ☼ .
———-,. ° ✧- HISTORY -✧ ° .-,———
———-,. ° ✧- HISTORY -✧ ° .-,———
✧ Tickpaw was born in a litter of three, his mother a frail and sickly she-cat who struggled to care for them in the harsh environment of the mill. Despite her best efforts, her body couldn't endure the strain, and only a few weeks after giving birth, she passed away. Tick, too young to understand, wailed beside her lifeless form, desperate for warmth and comfort that would never come. His cries caught the attention of the other mill cats, and he was eventually placed with a nursing queen who already had three kits of her own.
For a time, it seemed like he had found a new family. He clung to his adoptive siblings, seeking solace in their shared warmth. But the mill was a cruel place, full of dangers lurking in the shadows. One by one, his siblings began to disappear—some stolen away in the night, others simply vanishing without a trace. The fear gnawed at Tick, growing with each loss until it consumed him entirely. He fought, he hissed, he stayed awake at night with his tiny claws unsheathed, waiting for whatever horror would come for him next.
When the fear became too much to bear, he fled. His small paws carried him as far as they could, driven by an instinctive desperation to escape, to survive. He ran through unfamiliar lands, his body growing weaker with every step. Hunger and exhaustion weighed him down, and sickness soon took hold, making his vision blur and his limbs shake.
He doesn't remember exactly when he collapsed, only that the world had been spinning and the scent of pine had filled his nose.
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