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.
TICK
So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
The air was thick with unfamiliar scents, overwhelming him with their pungency. That much Tick had understood from this den, this place. There were so many different smells, each one distinct, yet blending together in a way that made his head spin. The sheer amount of them made him feel almost dizzy, how could Cicadabuzz possibly distinguish one from the other? How could they possibly know what each herb did?
The term medicine cat kept rolling around in his mind, something he didn't quite grasp, but he had seen enough to know it had something to do with healing. This whole Clan, ShadowClan, he learned, was a mystery to him. It was so much more than the mill, the hunger, the constant running. So much more than the terrifying darkness he still feared, the feeling of being swallowed whole at night when sleep barely touched him, when nightmares clawed at his mind and dragged him to places he couldn't escape. The emptiness. The silence. The loss of everything, including his siblings, the ones who were gone... The ones who weren't here to hear his cries.
His eyes snapped open again with a startled hiss, heart racing. His chest heaved as he lay in the nest, staring down at the ground, trying to steady his breath. His body trembled in the dark, caught between sleep and wakefulness, wishing he could just escape the ache of it all.
He wasn't sure when his focus shifted. But somehow, he was aware of Cicadabuzz again. Still there, ever-present, silent. Watching him. The hollow eyes that haunted his nightmares were chased away by the more stoic ones. those same eyes that often seemed to pierce into him, always calm and unyielding.
He could focus... Focus on anything but the shadows of his nightmares... The tendrils of the darkness that pulled toward him. He forced himself to concentrate, looking past the shadows, at something concrete. He found the herbs nearby. Yes, herbs... Focus on the herbs, he told himself. Frantic now, his breath still shallow, he glanced desperately toward Cicadabuzz. " That... " he gasped, pointing a trembling paw toward a particular herb. " What... What does that one do? "
The question felt heavy, a desperate plea to make sense of something, anything, in this overwhelming place. Anything to ground him in the present moment instead of the haunting silence that never quite let him go.
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