Fleapaw squinted through the mist, face streaked with damp. The dark swathed everything, humid and heavy, clogging her nose like sickbreath. Her head swiveled to Sablestar, throat bobbing as she tried to swallow the lump that formed there. Wasn't no reason to be nervous—Who cared if she failed or passed the stupid test? It wasn't any fault of her own, right? No that was Possumgrins fault… That stupid lazy bastard who slacked off and left her out to float.
Jadethorn was out there somewhere, cloaked in muck that would make her harder to track. Fleapaw did want to impress her. Her claws flexed into the mud, jaw tightening with determination.
I can do this.
The silence pressed in around her, broken by the squelch of her own paws. The fog blurred everything past a length til every hunk of wood, puddle, and rock looked the same. Even the air was thick with the scent of peat and rot, but none of it betrayed what she needed to know. But still, none of that compared to the dark forest. The forest there was made of something else entirely, so dense and dark that no light would ever find its way in. The smell of decay so intense that you could taste it with every breath...
Somewhere behind them she could feel another set of eyes cold against her skin. Fleapaw was tempted to look, but she faced forward Froststorm would want her to focus and she wanted to show him that the time he spent training her wasn't wasted.
Fleapaw spared Sablestar a quick glance, heart thudding into her throat.
"I can do that uh.. use all my… y-yeah okay." Her eyes cast around them and then down to their paws. If it were daytime, she would just pick out the tracks but that was not happening tonight.
She tries anyway, shuffling around trying to pinpoint any tracks in the dirt. (1d20 -> 7: minor fail) "Theres ah—a bunch of tracks here." Fleapaw notices indents in the dirt, but they were a mess. Smudged and trampled together, the mist further makes them difficult to read by distorting edges and turning everything to soup.
It quickly confuses the apprentice, so she searches for disturbances instead—broken twigs, drag marks, anything that might lead her in the right direction. (1d20 -> 6: basic fail) Her tail lashes quietly in frustration, but she's far from ready to give up.
Tried to find tracks in the mud. → Failed
Looked for disturbances to lead her to Jadethorn. → Failed
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Higher and higher you chase it
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FLEAPAW
9 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.
Its deep in your bones go and take it
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.
