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.
![size]](https://i.ibb.co/qFY5LTcj/ghost-oug.png[/IMG[/CENTER][/size])
I WON'T SMILE, BUT I'LL SHOW YOU MY TEETH
OOC- Trigger Warnings for all the usual Ghost stuff + mentions of nightmares and minor dissociation from reality/confusion dreams with reality.
Ghost was having a rough night. It wasn't unusual by any means– it would have been stranger if he'd slept soundly throughout the night, instead. It was one of the many reasons he slept alone, his nest jammed into a crack in the quarry wall not far from Serpents dens.
Usually the dreams were predictable to some degree; the sound of crunching bones and canine growls, the panicked screams of a familiar voice in bloody soaked camp, the feeling of dirt in his lungs and his body pinned beneath something heavy. Nothing pleasant, but nothing particularly new, either– he'd had months to let the newest one settle into the roster, and he hadn't thought there'd been anything significant that would trigger another.
But tonight he didn't get the usual.
~~~~~~
It was an odd dream, one he didn't recognize at first. Everything was warm and soft. Calm in a way he wasn't used to. There were no ominous sounds lurking in the shadows, no scent of blood in the air-- and the weight that rested against him wasn't the crushing pressure he'd come to expect from fallen rubble. It was comfortable and familiar. Safe. And when he shifted closer to try and bury himself against it, he was met with sleepy purr that made his heart stutter happily in his chest.
He didn't have to open his eyes to know who it was. It was just one of those things you knew when you were dreaming– the same way he knew he was in warriors den instead of his own nest, and that it was well past sun-up. So many wrong things that he would never allow to happen, and it felt perfectly normal, as if he'd spent every day of his life right there wrapped up with blue eyes and chocolate fur.
Maybe he had.
Maybe it was everything else that had been the bad dream.
~~~~~~~~~
When Ghost jolted awake shortly after, it wasn't because his dreams had turned bloody on him. Instead, it was the confusion of turning over in his nest to seek out that familiar warmth, only to find it gone. Just a cold, empty space that had sent him bolting upward in a disoriented panic, caught in a space that was wrongwrongwrong. His sleep-adled brain was still searching for Thunders nest in the warrior den, for blue eyes and soothing scent.
But the walls were too narrow in here. And the moss nest beneath him felt cold and smelled only like Ghoststrike himself.
Reality didn't take long to set in,
His surroundings came back to him after a moment, but that dose of reality didn't help much. The dream had felt so unmooringly real that his brain was having issues catching up and discerning which was which. He still felt like he'd lost something he would never get back, could feel a part of himself mourning for a life that was never real to begin with, wanting to go back. He could barely breathe with how heavy it sat in his chest, as if this was the wrong one and he was still meant to be back there.
Stars, was this even real? Or was this the dream?
Large, bone-marked paws carried him outside, needing some air. He could see his breath as he stepped out into camp, but he couldn't feel the cold with how his skin was vibrating. Couldn't feel much of anything beyond the pounding of his own heart and the sick feeling in his stomach telling him he'd lost the only glimpse of happiness he'd ever see.
He turned and made for the path out of camp, slipping up and out of the ravine without so much as looking to see who might have been watching.
OOC-- Hopekits question has unlocked a new kind of 'nightmare' for Ghost. Enjoy the softness while his fucked up brain struggles to determine what's real and what isn't. @THUNDERFLASH
Ghost was having a rough night. It wasn't unusual by any means– it would have been stranger if he'd slept soundly throughout the night, instead. It was one of the many reasons he slept alone, his nest jammed into a crack in the quarry wall not far from Serpents dens.
Usually the dreams were predictable to some degree; the sound of crunching bones and canine growls, the panicked screams of a familiar voice in bloody soaked camp, the feeling of dirt in his lungs and his body pinned beneath something heavy. Nothing pleasant, but nothing particularly new, either– he'd had months to let the newest one settle into the roster, and he hadn't thought there'd been anything significant that would trigger another.
But tonight he didn't get the usual.
~~~~~~
It was an odd dream, one he didn't recognize at first. Everything was warm and soft. Calm in a way he wasn't used to. There were no ominous sounds lurking in the shadows, no scent of blood in the air-- and the weight that rested against him wasn't the crushing pressure he'd come to expect from fallen rubble. It was comfortable and familiar. Safe. And when he shifted closer to try and bury himself against it, he was met with sleepy purr that made his heart stutter happily in his chest.
He didn't have to open his eyes to know who it was. It was just one of those things you knew when you were dreaming– the same way he knew he was in warriors den instead of his own nest, and that it was well past sun-up. So many wrong things that he would never allow to happen, and it felt perfectly normal, as if he'd spent every day of his life right there wrapped up with blue eyes and chocolate fur.
Maybe he had.
Maybe it was everything else that had been the bad dream.
~~~~~~~~~
When Ghost jolted awake shortly after, it wasn't because his dreams had turned bloody on him. Instead, it was the confusion of turning over in his nest to seek out that familiar warmth, only to find it gone. Just a cold, empty space that had sent him bolting upward in a disoriented panic, caught in a space that was wrongwrongwrong. His sleep-adled brain was still searching for Thunders nest in the warrior den, for blue eyes and soothing scent.
But the walls were too narrow in here. And the moss nest beneath him felt cold and smelled only like Ghoststrike himself.
Reality didn't take long to set in,
His surroundings came back to him after a moment, but that dose of reality didn't help much. The dream had felt so unmooringly real that his brain was having issues catching up and discerning which was which. He still felt like he'd lost something he would never get back, could feel a part of himself mourning for a life that was never real to begin with, wanting to go back. He could barely breathe with how heavy it sat in his chest, as if this was the wrong one and he was still meant to be back there.
Stars, was this even real? Or was this the dream?
Large, bone-marked paws carried him outside, needing some air. He could see his breath as he stepped out into camp, but he couldn't feel the cold with how his skin was vibrating. Couldn't feel much of anything beyond the pounding of his own heart and the sick feeling in his stomach telling him he'd lost the only glimpse of happiness he'd ever see.
He turned and made for the path out of camp, slipping up and out of the ravine without so much as looking to see who might have been watching.
OOC-- Hopekits question has unlocked a new kind of 'nightmare' for Ghost. Enjoy the softness while his fucked up brain struggles to determine what's real and what isn't. @THUNDERFLASH
thunderclan warrior- male - a towering dark tabby with a white mask and dark amber eyes.
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