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.
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Fleapaw shifted awkwardly, rocking toe to toe, jaw working like she was chewing something sour. Dammit, this was so stupid. She didn't have to do it. She could've just let it be, let it fade out of memory. But that didn't sit right—not in her stomach. After Cicadabuzz saved Tickpaw, she'd paid her dues even though she didn't like the bastard, and she'd rather keep her debts settled, especially with Sealpaw of all cats. But how in the name of all the Dark Forest were you supposed to repay something like that?
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt those jaws again, dragging her into the dark to be devoured, and she knew how close she'd come to joining Froststorm for good. Of all the cats who came racing in to help, it was Sealpaw who'd gotten there first—Sealpaw, wild and furious, tearin' into that coyote. She hadn't expected that from them after everything. Honestly, it'd impressed her too. Fleapaw had never seen Sealpaw like that. It was like they turned into a whole other cat and shit colored her impressed.
But it also left a bitter taste on her tongue. Now she couldn't sleep without thinkin about things the way they were. Too many ends left loose.
With a huff, the cinnamon apprentice ducked under the bramble screen, eyes scanning the nests for a familiar spotted pelt. Of course, Sealpaw was awake. Fleapaw froze, ears flicking back. "Hey..." She muttered through a mouthful of fur, something fuzzy dangling from her jaws.
She hobbled forward stiffly and tossed a warm rabbit at Sealpaw's paws, fresh enough to be warm to the touch. "I need to say some things, so just shut up and eat, got it?" She snapped harshly, heat pooling from her ear tips to her nose. Her eyes darted up to the bramble roof as if it might swallow her whole. "J-just—this is weird enough, so lemme get it out and I'll be gone." She shoved the rabbit closer with one paw and cleared her throat.
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Wings, hearts, some things are meant to be torn apart
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FLEAPAW10 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.
Faith, hope, some things are meant to be gone broke
