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.
(♡) grace has not stopped trembling since thunderclan has arrived in their new camp. she has scanned the crowd of former colony members for gentle and dove, not finding either amongst the grief stricken mobs. now, after crafting new dens, building nests, filtering through the new forest in search of prey, she sits by herself in a corner, shaking violently. she hunches in on herself, wide evergreen eyes staring blankly at the crimson that still stains her paws, despite desperate scrubbing. distraction has not come, and she cannot think of anything besides the last breath of that former colony mate, the whimper, the flicker of life leaving peppermint's eyes. grace folds in on herself, still stained with the blood of her enemy, and weeps desperately into the night. long past when juniper and hawthorne depart, she clutches at her own chest, breath gasping from her throat. a low wail keens from the warrior's maw, ears flat against her head.
she's killed someone. killed! as in peppermint is dead and it's her fault. accident, self defense or not, murder is on her delicate paws. with no sign of either of her siblings, she wonders bleakly if she is truly alone in her crime. even as pawsteps reach her ears, as a scent so familiar it is more home to her than the colony wafts towards her nose, she still remains curled in on herself, broken gasps shuttering from her lungs.
she's killed someone. killed! as in peppermint is dead and it's her fault. accident, self defense or not, murder is on her delicate paws. with no sign of either of her siblings, she wonders bleakly if she is truly alone in her crime. even as pawsteps reach her ears, as a scent so familiar it is more home to her than the colony wafts towards her nose, she still remains curled in on herself, broken gasps shuttering from her lungs.
- // @GENTLE @Crying Dove sibbies! pls forgive the roughness of this, i'm still finding grace's voice. this takes place during the time juni and hawthorne are at the moonstone. " #dda2a2 "
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GRACE ♡ SHE / HER, THUNDERCLAN WARRIOR. 28 MOONS, PENNED BY LAVS
a longhaired blue tabby with high white and evergreen eyes. fur pale as snow decorates this girl, melted slightly along her back and face to reveal gentle blues and grays. evergreen forest eyes are framed by long eyelashes, and a pale red nose tops off the silky graceful figure.