PLIMSOLL PUNKS ✧ flea

[webpaw]

Deposited by a storm, into the nursery. The kit was windblown and it showed. But here, only the walls creaked on occasion, and it wasn't so blisteringly cold. Older mollies stared at her with a kind of monstrous delight, waiting to fix up her hair in a way she could tell would be just how they liked it. They couldn't brush her crooked teeth away, though, nor make her look any more presentable. Questions rose from the floor like steam. She knew it was coming. Her name, where she had come from. Maybe they'd ask her like Roxy, and add in why she was so little. One of them made a move at her and she was gone as a spider, skittering her way into a corner as an uncomfortable hiss rose.

Nothing was familiar. It'd been that way for a while. This was just a checkpoint.

Web angled her face into the shadows, a feeling she befriended long ago arising. Her chest burned, tears threatening to breach her waterlines. She didn't have to scan the den to know there were others watching her, especially after she made such a childish scene. Her ears heated as she fought to keep her breathing even, battling not to betray her cries.

@F l e a p a w

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡

she/her; cis female / any gendered terms / 5 months
shadowclan kit (retro thread)
seal sepia with vitiligo / orange eyes

peaceful powerplay allowed, no perms needed
ask before hostile powerplay unless preplanned
always open to interaction in battle unless stated otherwise
ask before injuring !

 

[F l e a p a w]

Fleapaw trotted into camp, a fat mouse about a quarter the size of her head, dangling from her jaws. Its fresh scent made her mouth water. She held it high, side-eying anyone who even looked her way. They couldn't have it. Despite how good it smelled, she wrangled her hunger.


Mice were a treat—fresh—unspoiled, and not as gamey or chewy as frogs. It wasn't just one of her many ploys to make the kits think she was cool. Fleapaw was gonna make sure they didn't go hungry. Cause she knew what it was like to starve. No one should have to endure that, least of all a bunch of kits.

She poked her nose into the nursery, eyes roaming the nests, looking for white fur. If her best friend was around, she would give it to her. But then her eyes hitched on a lump in the corner, easily missable if it weren't for so many eyes pointed in that direction. Their murmuring made her ears twitch.

What a bunch of prattling geese.

A new kit. She didn't need to know the details of what happened—probably the same shit that happened to Flea when she first arrived. Bunch of nosybodies picking and poking at what they saw. Flea made it real clear then that she didn't want nothin' to do with them, didn't wanna be touched or fussed over. None of them were her mother and she didn't fucking need a new one.

Whatever happened—whatever this kit had been through—was not for them to know. Picking at scabs only made them bleed.

Fleapaw scowled, tail lashing behind her. "Aint you cluckers got your eyeballs popping far enough out of your heads?" The apprentice snarled loudly, teeth clicking together. She stared hard, welcoming a challenge, before huffing through her nose. Fleapaw quietly padded toward the kit, but didn't coax the from the shadows.

"Hey runt. If you don't want them messin' with you, use your teeth next time." She said gruffly as if she was some saged warrior and not a kit herself. Then with a jerk of her head, she flung the mouse in their direction. "When you're done, you can have that... or throw it away, I don't care." Fleapaw wouldn't coddle or ask her how she was feeling. That shit wouldn't help them, not anywhere.

____________IF I COULD PAINT THE SKY 𓆏 WOULD ALL THE STARS THEN SHINE A BLOODY RED?

• ooc: —

• 

• FLEAPAW she/her | shadowclanner | 6 moons
  → FLEAKIT / FLEAPAW / FLEAFIRE
  → mentored by POSSUMGRIN and FROSTSTORM
  → former mill kit and kittypet
  → some physical powerplay permitted
  → speech thought/emphasis attacking

 

[webpaw]

The stiff thud of the mouse was almost the only thing Web could hone her attention on. It was an attempt to coax her, her instincts told her. In her mind's eye, the hand that held an offering, pleading in alien tones. She was shelled, and sought protection inside of that shell, before blindly turning her face towards the equally young voice that followed the corpse.

Their separation was succeeded by so many events. The death of their sibling, the twolegs who brought Web home. The weeks loved and in fear. Revolutions of the sun, no roof to shield it. Then, the windstorm, and so many cats at once that it was dizzying.

Before all of that, there was Flea.

The only sound that came from Web in response was a deep, gasping sob, an involuntary inhale that felt like it exploded her lungs. She knocked all of that air out of herself as she lurched forwards, trying to tackle Flea to the ground in a hug. "Flea!" she wept. The solid molly was a relic of only months ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡

she/her; afab / any gendered terms / 6 months
shadowclan kit / mentored by bluegale
seal sepia with vitiligo / orange eyes

peaceful powerplay allowed, no perms needed
ask before hostile powerplay unless preplanned
always open to interaction in battle unless stated otherwise
ask before injuring !

 

[F l e a p a w]

Fleapaw turned away, ready to go about her business. Paws shuffling as she made her retreat, but they barely made it a few steps before a solid force collided with her side, sweeping her clean.

"Flea!"

The breath hitched in her throat as she tumbled, her body instinctively going limp to soften the landing. She might've lashed out, claws flashing, teeth bared into a snarl—but something stopped her. That voice was so familiar… Flea couldn't pin it at first, but it scratched at the back of her mind.

She hit the ground with a thud, rolling a little, paws folding around her attacker. Her ears buzzed as she peeled her head back, eyes darting up to see who had slammed into her. It took a moment before the gears in her head shifted. Now her eyes are wide droplets of amber, jaw parting in disbelief.

"W-Webby?!"

It's too good to be true. First Worm, and now Web? Felt like life was playing games with her heart just to see how hard it could squeeze. She needed a second—needed more than a second—to steel herself, to believe what her eyes were showing her.

But there was no mistaking the solid mass against her. Fleapaw felt the dampness in her fur, the way Web shook and clung to her pelt like even the wind could blow her away. Fleapaw sucked in a sharp breath and tightened her grip.

She wasn't good at feeling things. But she felt it now. It made her throat feel tight and her chest feel too full. The ruddy apprentice curled her paws tighter around her sister, pressing her forehead against her speckled fur. When she speaks again, it's much softer, reflective of the kit she used to be. "Look at me, Web." Her voice is hoarse and crackly, ready to break.

"Is that... really you?" Flea never thought she would find them again. She had long since written them off as lost, something never to be found again. But now she had not one but two of her sisters, right here.

____________IF I COULD PAINT THE SKY 𓆏 WOULD ALL THE STARS THEN SHINE A BLOODY RED?

• ooc: —

• 

• FLEAPAW she/her | shadowclanner | 6 moons
  → FLEAKIT / FLEAPAW / FLEAFIRE
  → mentored by POSSUMGRIN and FROSTSTORM
  → former mill kit and kittypet
  → some physical powerplay permitted
  → speech thought/emphasis attacking

 

[webpaw]

"It's me," she verified. Exhaustion struck her, and she halfway collapsed when Fleapaw wrapped her paws around her. She shook, the effects of her hunger and travels suddenly hitting her all at once. "It's me, Flea. I'm here."

It didn't feel real. Her life was circling back, but in a way that was better than before. This would always beat being stuck in cages and houses. Web didn't need to start anew alone.

The stares surrounding them didn't matter. The wind, the cold, the brokenness didn't matter. Because suddenly, it wasn't just Web, wondering whether or not staying here in this group was worth it. She had a reason to stay.

"How long have you been here?" she croaked. "Have you found any of the others?" The ones who lived. Web couldn't fathom what they had been through, what kind of places they had gone after twolegs picked them out. She hadn't been able to stay behind, and it haunted her. To be honest, she wasn't quite prepared to hear the truth of Flea's answer. They had lost so much, and they had gained by reuniting.

But they had still lost.

It hadn't been a large chunk of time, but Flea looked different to Web. Like she belonged wherever they were now. They had both shed the scent of the mill long ago, and she realized that Flea smelled like the cats that had picked her up and brought her to camp. Web wasn't just in a random colony of cats now – her sister was a member of this community. That settled her choice to stay, even if it meant getting questioned by mothers and watched constantly.

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡

she/her; cis female / any gendered terms / 5 months
shadowclan kit (retro thread)
seal sepia with vitiligo / orange eyes

peaceful powerplay allowed, no perms needed
ask before hostile powerplay unless preplanned
always open to interaction in battle unless stated otherwise
ask before injuring !