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.
{$title} feral child experiencing some food aggression
Consumed by the darkness they bore
She will never wake up anymore
She will never wake up anymore
.
// Takes place shortly after Des's introduction into SkyClan.
Des sat pressed into the shelter of a bush, hunched over a sparrow like it might vanish if she blinked. Thin shoulders jut up, head hunched low, and ears flat as she tore into it with fast rough bites. She chewed and gasped between mouthfuls. Around her, a mess of feathers, bits of bloody down sticking to her muzzle.
The nursery was bustling with movement, laughter, and speech—harmless noise to some. But to Des every sound was sharp and jostling. Too much. Too loud. She twitched with each overwhelming sound but did not tear away from the prey beneath her claws. Morsels slid down her throat, sometimes painfully, but she knew to eat quickly. If not, then something bigger would take it. Rip it away from her before she could satiate the gnawing pain in her stomach.
The sound of scuffling near drew a low growl from the kit. Her haunches tensed, but she made no effort to move, only tried scarf the prey down quicker.
Speech, thoughts/emphasis
Des sat pressed into the shelter of a bush, hunched over a sparrow like it might vanish if she blinked. Thin shoulders jut up, head hunched low, and ears flat as she tore into it with fast rough bites. She chewed and gasped between mouthfuls. Around her, a mess of feathers, bits of bloody down sticking to her muzzle.
The nursery was bustling with movement, laughter, and speech—harmless noise to some. But to Des every sound was sharp and jostling. Too much. Too loud. She twitched with each overwhelming sound but did not tear away from the prey beneath her claws. Morsels slid down her throat, sometimes painfully, but she knew to eat quickly. If not, then something bigger would take it. Rip it away from her before she could satiate the gnawing pain in her stomach.
The sound of scuffling near drew a low growl from the kit. Her haunches tensed, but she made no effort to move, only tried scarf the prey down quicker.
Speech, thoughts/emphasis
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