Private Territory ShadowClan Kindred spirits // flea

[Flamerunner]

FLAME OF SHADOWCLAN

Flamerunner hadn't paid much attention to the scuffle outside of camp, at least, not until Pepperpaw and a stranger arrived, followed shortly by Tickpaw, his face smeared with blood, looking frantic. That was enough to make him saunter over and listen to the young tom's hurried explanation.

A fight between two apprentices. A stranger. Flea.

He wasn't surprised. She was a spitfire, after all.

But she had also harmed Tick, and from what he understood, she had nearly attacked Pepperpaw as well. Come to think of it… Flea lashed out at her Clanmates often, didn't she? He could still remember Marbleshine standing in front of him, fluffed up and upset, telling him how Sealpaw had gotten hurt thanks to his little protégé.

One of the first times he'd seen her that angry.

Tickpaw had asked him to find Flea, probably because he trusted him to get things done more than… well, her actual mentor. And Flamerunner knew the territory better. He knew the places she liked to go.

So he followed the trail, blue eyes scanning the familiar terrain. For a moment, he thought even he might not find her this time. But then…

" Hey, spitfire. "

A faint smile tugged at his muzzle as he spotted her. He padded forward, then flopped down beside her unceremoniously.

" Wanna tell me what happened, sport? You okay? "

RUN BOY RUN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— THE SUN WILL BE GUIDING YOU

 

[F l e a p a w]

-

Fleapaw didn't know where her paws carried her. She just knew she had to run—as far as they would take her, as fast as she could, away from what she'd done. The wound on her back burned, her muscles screamed, her eyes stung. But none of it was enough to stop her. Everything was too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too constricting.

After everything he had been through… After promising to protect him, swearing that she would be there for him, that it would be better—

What a load of shit.

She couldn't protect him. She never could. Hell, she could barely protect herself. The only time she had ever won a fight was against someone already weak. But she'd liked it, hadn't she? Liked how hurting someone else made her feel—in control, strong. But hurting Tickpaw didn't feel good, not even a little.

None of that was meant for him. He wasn't supposed to get hurt. She was never supposed to be the one to hurt him. What if it left a scar? What then? If every time she looked at him, she had to remember that it was her who put it there.

Where was she supposed to go now? She couldn't go back—not to camp, not to Tick, not anywhere. He would look for her, Flea knew he would. He'd forgive her. He would tell her it was okay, that it was just a scratch, and that was the worst part of it all. She didn't deserve him or his forgiveness. Flea never deserved it to begin with.

There were only a few places in the pocosin that even Tick didn't know about. Hidden corners where she could disappear. Her paws carried her to one of them—a gnarled tree, pockets beneath its roots, twisting over a stagnant pond, forming a dark hollow beneath. A space just big enough for her to wedge herself inside. Fleapaw crawled in, pressing herself into the filth and damp, ignoring the cobwebs that clung to her fur. A cold wind brushed against her hide, soft, almost comforting, coaxing. Flea curled tight, tail wrapped around her body. At least in the dark, she could be alone, where the blood on her paws and the tears in her eyes couldn't be seen.

She didn't know how long she lay there, staring into nothing, before heavy steps crunched through the marsh. Fleapaw stiffened and then tried to crawl further in, but there was nowhere left to go. Her body coiled tight, shrinking back as much as she could. Maybe if she stayed still enough, they wouldn't see her.

But Flamerunner's lazy lull calls her from the outside. She does not move. A growl rumbled from her chest, but it wasn't fierce—all her ferocity was spent. "Go away…" She flinched at the sound coming from her throat, shocking even for her to hear. So hollow... so small. Fleapaw cradled it like a little spark, trying to force some of that fire back into her voice. "I'm not going back." Her tail curled tighter around herself, claws digging into the muck.

Not that anyone cared if she did anyway.

Cicadabuzz would be indifferent. Pepperpaw would be glad to be rid of her. Possumgrin would… would he even pretend to care? Timber would forget, maybe he'd even be relieved to never have to clean up after her again.

Then there was Stoat. Tick. Lost. Web. Would they miss her? Or would they finally realize that they were better off without her and move on with their lives? A harsh voice in the back of her head told her that was the case, even if she knew better.

Maybe… it would be easier if they never found her. At least then, she couldn't hurt them too.

Forgive me for letting you down again

FLEAPAW

7 MOONS
SHE/HER
- Undersized cinnamon solid with folded ears. She's thin but stubby with very messy fur.
"SPEECH" - crimson | 'THOUGHTS/EMPHASIS' - crimson

Fleapaw values family the most with survival at a close second. In conversations, she is blunt, fun-loving, and clever. She is guided by her desires which often leads her astray. Despite her abrasive personality, she cares deeply for those she loves and will do anything to protect them. Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and has minimalistic, if any, morals. She does not care for the warrior code and its restraints. Neither does she believe in StarClan. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, and ending up on the streets have deeply affected her view of the world.

I guess I'm not strong enough... Right now

 

[Flamerunner]

FLAME OF SHADOWCLAN

A sad little smile tugged at his lips at the sound of her voice, so small, so unlike the fire that usually burned within her. Now, she sounded fragile, teetering on the edge of something dark and uncertain. He tilted his head slightly, his half-lidded gaze fixed on Fleapaw.

" You can't live out here. " His voice was steady but not unkind. " Imagine your siblings rushing after you, trying to find you, trying to bring you back. Or worse, maybe they decide to stay with you and never return home either. " He flicked an ear, watching for any reaction.

" Tick isn't angry at you. " He let the words settle, searching her face before offering a faint, knowing smile. " And that's the painful thing, isn't it? Knowing that he's not angry. " His tone was gentle, almost resigned. " He was in a panic when he found me. Begged me to look for you because he doesn't know the territory as well as we do. " A soft sigh escaped him. " I would miss you, you know. If you disappeared. And so would Timberfrost, Stoatpaw, Lostpaw, Webpaw… even Marbleshine. "

He hesitated, clearing his throat before continuing.

" When you were a kit, it was easier to brush aside your lashing out. But you're getting bigger now… and that means the damage you do will be bigger too. " His voice was soft but firm. " There's no use in turning on your own Clanmates, Fleapaw. Save that fire for the real enemies, the ones who actually want to harm us. "

RUN BOY RUN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— THE SUN WILL BE GUIDING YOU