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.
☼ The day after meeting Swallowpaw, Rowanpaw goes out once more– this time on her own. She slips out of camp unnoticed, her mother too sick to coddle her. She just… doesn't want to bother the warriors again. She could've asked her brother, she supposes, but… things weren't the same. They had gotten better after that time when Maplefrost came back from the fight with the rats, and Rowanpaw had healed him, but things still weren't the same. They might never be the same again. She shakes her head, ducking under a bramble bush and finally laying eyes on the twoleg place.
It's a familiar sight– she and Maple had grown up next to a twoleg place much like this one. That's the reason she even knows of catmint and where to find it to begin with. She runs the last few fox lengths then jumps, scaling the fence with some awkwardness– she is not as nimble as she was before she fell. Frustrated, she jumps down onto the grass on the other side, looking around desperately for the purple plant– but nothing. Dammit. She walks over to the fence, jumping back up, face twisting with pain once again. Muscles she hadn't used in a very long time were being stretched, and it hurt. But she had to keep going. For Serpentberry, for her mother…
She finally finds the catmint in the fifth garden she visits, tucking it safely in the fluff of her tail, like she'd seen Cicada do. Then she hurries back to camp, as fast as her aching leg will allow her. She finds her mother in the medicine den, but doesn't stop to talk or explain, just begins her work– chewing up the catmint into a paste, soft so that it won't hurt her throat– they don't have any honey. They'd need to find some eventually… should be easy enough, they could even ask patrols to keep an eye out for it… if her mother speaks to her, she does not really hear it, too focused on the task in front of her.
Once she's satisfied by the poultice, she grabs the leaf she'd been mixing it on with her teeth, carrying it to her mother and placing it before her.
"Mother," she says softly. "Here– eat. It… It should help."
It has to help.
