Private Territory ShadowClan we reap what we sow 𓍊𓋼𓆏𓋼𓍊 — herb hunting

[F l e a p a w]

It took her hours to clean the medicine den. HOURS. She had scrubbed the floors, reorganized the stupid herb piles, and wiped mud from every crevice. By the time she was done, she could still smell the damn plants clinging to her fur.

As for her croak warriors, they were gone. When Cicada wasn't looking she snatched them up and flung them outside. Fleapaw didn't know whether they made it or became lunch for her clanmates. Couldn't tell if their corpses were among the ones in the prey pile, one dead frog looked like the next—and she was fine with that. Fleapaw didn't want to know.

So, yeah. Mission Croak Warrior was a total flop. She wasn't about to risk another incident and get her head chewed off—maybe literally—by their medicine cat. Fleapaw considered herself lucky enough to be alive.
Now, to make things worse, she had a huge debt to pay off. Not just the deal she made to save Tick's life—no, that was already weighing on her shoulders. She had to replace all the stupid herbs that got destroyed. Just thinking about it made her want to scream.

And of course, Cicadabuzz—unhelpful, cryptic, bug-eyed bastard that they were—offered no guidance on what she actually needed to replace. Didn't even bother telling her what to look for.

So, she was to figure it out on her own. But at the very least, she wasn't alone.

It was a new cold cloudy day. At the camp entrance, Fleapaw paused, her usual scowl softening slightly as she turned toward her brother. "I know I already asked," She said, brows furrowing with concern, "But you sure you're good for it? If you don't feel good, it's okay. I can take care of this on my own."

Flea already burdened him enough. He didn't owe her anything ever, not after what she left him to live through. That wasn't to say she wasn't happy to have him with her, but still, she worried that he might not be fit enough to handle the trip. When they found him, he looked bad. Tick looked better now but... Even as they stood there, she could imagine how skeletal he had looked and smell the death that had radiated off him.

Sometimes, finding him like that, even followed Fleapaw into her dreams.

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

• ooc: — Friends and family of Fleapaw are welcome to join her before they leave camp. Just be sure to poke me first.

• 

• 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

 

[Tickpaw]

TICK

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

He was still wary of this place. Still hissed when other cats looked at him wrong or moved too close, too fast. He didn't lash out, not yet... But he glared, bristled, edged away. It was exhausting. Everything was new. The scents, the sounds, the eyes watching him. And after thinking he was as good as dead, he was now forced to reckon with the truth, he was alive. Alive and getting better. But he wasn't better yet. And he was tired of laying in that den. So when Flea turned to ask if he was sure he was ready, he scoffed, lashing his tail once.

" If I stay cooped up in that dark den for one more hour, I'm going to lose my mind and pick a fight with the first cat who talks to me. " His voice was edged with irritation, though it wasn't directed at her. Not really. His shoulders sagged slightly as he exhaled. " I'm… grateful. But I need to get back to strength. I can help find these things with you. Just… " He hesitated. He hated asking for anything. But he had no choice. " Don't bolt ahead. " The words came out begrudgingly, ears pressing flat against his head. " I don't think I could keep up. "

His gaze flickered around the unfamiliar territory. So much of it was still overwhelming, still strange. He didn't know the rules here. Didn't know what was expected of him. " Everything is so… new... " he admitted, voice quieter now. His claws flexed against the earth. " If I'm supposed to repay my debt to that cat… or their leader… I need to be stronger. I need to know more. "

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[F l e a p a w]

Fleapaw understood what it was like to feel that way. Her brother was more contained than she was—able to contain his frrations where she would spit hers anytime there was a spark. But he could only contain so much. The pressure wouldn't stop building up—and eventually, it had to go somewhere.

Fleapaw didn't press him any further. They'd take their time, move carefully, and if anything happened. Well, she'd just have to keep him safe. "I get it." She nodded, before flicking her tail in a beckoning motion. The first of many steps out into the pocosin.

Her ears twitched at the sound of his voice, listening without looking as she led him forward. It dawned on her then that he hadn't seen much of anything yet. Not of ShadowClan's territory or anything else really. Fleapaw knew from experience how smothering that feeling was. The world outside their cage was bigger than they ever could've imagined.

At least he here, instead of rotting in the ground.

Her face soured when he started talking about debts. She clenched her jaw, tail flicking sharply behind her. "That cat's name is Cicadabuzz and they're a fucking bastard, so stay off their bad side. But I made that deal with them, it's my problem, not yours." The last thing she wanted was for him to take on work like that. If she had to scrub the medicine den til the day she kicked it, that was a price she was willing to pay. But that wasn't for him, or Lost or Web. They deserved better. More. She would make sure they were taken care of now.

The words came out sharper than she meant them to, her irritation flaring up before she could wrangle it. She sighed, already regretting it. She didn't know how to find her way through this—being a sister again. It had been a long time since she'd had to watch what came out of her mouth. She didn't know what to say to take a little of the weight off his shoulders. "Look, it's… a lot. You don't have to rush it." She glanced back at him, slowing her pace to match his. "Get better, and then Sablestar'll throw a mentor at you, and then we can train and get stronger together. Okay"

Heck, maybe she could convince Possumgrin to take them on a group training session once Tick got a mentor. Kind of like what Coalstrike did.

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

• ooc: — 1d6 rolled to decide location. Rolled a 2 → Burnt Sycamore.

• 

• 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

 

[Tickpaw]

TICK

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

" I won't burden you. " Tick finally assured his sister, flicking his torn ear as he padded after her. " I came to be loose as much as I came to help my sis. " He huffed, rolling his eyes before glancing at Flea. Cicadabuzz. The name still sat oddly with him, unfamiliar on his tongue. The cats here had two names, one they were born with and one they earned. Two names. It was strange, but it was just how things were. He wondered what the "buzz" stood for.

" They are... " He started, choosing his words carefully. " ...A good medicine cat. Precise. Clear-headed. But very much... no-nonsense. " He snorted at Flea's remark about the deal being hers to carry. " You don't have to carry it alone, dumbass. " He grumbled affectionately, bumping into her side. Still, his gaze flickered downward, his voice quieter. " ...Besides that. In a way, I feel like I owe them a debt. I need to repay that too. " A short pause, then a shrug. " Your leader could've kicked me out. I... " His eyes flicked over himself before flashing Flea a crooked grin. " I am not Mother's most useful. They could've decided I was... too dangerous to keep. I was sick. "

But he was getting better.

" Not rushing, don't worry. " He grunted, sauntering after her with a faint smirk. " So... mentors, huh? I wonder if I'll get a good one myself. " He flicked his ear, thoughtful. Maybe it would help, to learn more. " What kind of herbs are we looking for? What can I look for? "

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[F l e a p a w]

Fleapaw sighed softly. There would be no changing his mind. It was made up and if she knew anything about her siblings—about herself—it was that their minds weren't easily swayed once they were set. He would do what he wanted and so would she. Fleapaw wasn't going to fight him over it.

Still, the way he talked about Cicada made her snort. "Yeah, that's one way to put it." Flea would've used more colorful words. Know-it-all. Hardass. Bastard whose mother was probably a beetle. All of those seemed to fit perfectly for the lovely medicine cat she had come to know and hate over the past few moons.

Her eyes narrowed at Tick, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She was glad they could have talks like this, even if they didn't agree. She wouldn't take that for granted. Never again.

But he was right about something. She wasn't alone anymore. It was just hard to remember that sometimes, after being without them for so long. And even now, letting them take things off her paws wasn't easy. Fleapaw wasn't sure if she could let them when she still owed so much. "Fine… alright. I get it." Flea sighed. "Do what you have to do."

"Who are you calling a dumbass, dumbass?" She snorted, giving him an affectionate shove back. Not too hard, she didn't want to send him tumbling.

"I wouldn't have given them a choice." Her claws pricked at the peat beneath her paws as she walked. But… what could she have really done? She was forced to beg—to offer anything she could just to get Cicada to help him. Fleapaw hated that. Hated that she had to crawl to that bug-eyed bastard... or any of them for help. All she could do was keep tellin herself that wouldn't stay weak forever. She'd get big and tough. Least she had the mean part down.

She considered his next question. "If I were you, I'd want Coalstrike or… hmmn… Wolfpack?" Well, not like he got to choose to begin with. That was Sablestar's problem. "They're real tough, but also huge assholes." She shrugged. "But… better than mine, I suppose." A nasty look crawled up and died on her face. Just the thought of Possumgrin pissed her off so bad. If she didn't need him to teach her, she would've shoved him into the pit ages ago. All he ever did was give her the run around these days.

As they walked, a gnarled tree loomed into view, its branches pale and twisted, like claws rising from the mist. The area around it was clear, soggy, and free of overgrowth. A spot as good as any to start searching for… er…

Fleapaw slowed and took a good look around. Her ears rolled to look at the sky like she might find something there too. "I… dunno." She muttered, annoyance creeping into her voice. "Like I said, Cicadabuzz's a bastard and wouldn't tell me shit. Not what I'm looking for, or what it looks like, or where to go." She huffed, eyes drifting back down to assess the open area. "So, I guess just look for plant lookin' stuff that… uh… seems maybe useful?" Not the best plan, but it was all she had to work with.

The ground was damp, but not as mushy as it was closer to camp. It had a texture to it too—less muddy more… grainy? Her amber eyes scaled up the sycamore that stretched above them, colored like ash, leafless. Didn't look like much, but maybe there was something here worth dragging back.

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

• ooc: — 𖧧 1d3 Roll: 3 - Failure. You found a useless weed.

• 

• 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

 

[Tickpaw]

TICK

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

Tick smirked slightly as he flicked his torn ear, casting Flea a knowing glance. " I could also call him tight-lipped, straight to the point, and capable of tearing your soul out of your very being with just a look. " he mused, his voice laced with faint amusement. A dry chuckle followed as he padded after his sister, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. She was letting him come along. That alone felt like a victory. He wasn't sure what his place in this Clan was yet, what he was meant to do. But he wanted to find out.

" Coalstrike? " he echoed, tilting his head as he glanced at Flea. He tried to place the name, but the faces still blurred together. There were too many cats, too many names. He knew Web. He knew Worm. He knew Flea. And he knew Sablestar and Cicadabuzz, because they were important. The others? He hadn't spoken to them much. But Wolfpack... Wolfpack was important too, wasn't he? He was the scarred one. The really scarred one. And then there was the lady who sometimes checked up on him... He frowned. He had forgotten her name.

" Yours ain't doing such a fine job? " he drawled finally when Flea complained about the one mentoring her, casting a sideways glance at Flea before turning his gaze forward again. He wasn't sure what exactly they were looking for, but he would try. Something worthwhile. Something useful. His face scrunched slightly in thought as he scanned the ground, remembering the clutter of strange-smelling plants in the den where he had been nursed back to health. Surely, he could figure this out.

His sharp gaze landed on a plant, and with a solemn nod, he yanked it from the ground, holding it up with the same conviction as if he had uncovered some ancient treasure. " Plant stuff. " he announced with great seriousness. He stared at the weed in his paws, eyes narrowing slightly.

" ...Like this? "

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[F l e a p a w]

-

Fleapaw snortedat her brother's comment. He wasn't far off. Any more debts to that creepy bastard, and she might as well hand over her soul along with them. "Big dark brute that always looks like he's got thorns in his paws." That was the best way to describe him. "You'll know when you see him."

Coalstrike was so high up on her shit-list, he might as well live there permanently. But… if there was anything she could respect, it was strength, and he was one of the strongest in ShadowClan…for now.

"He keeps blowin' me off." She grumbled, kicking at a clump of dead grass as they walked. "Says I'm not ready for stuff when I know I am." If he said it one more time, she was gonna put burrs in his nest. "Has me catching prey for him every mornin' too, like I'm his dog or something." Possumgrin wasn't just a bastard—he was a lazy bastard.

Fleapaw shuffled through the open ground, poking at the grass with a paw. Everything was withered—mushy and dead-looking. None of it looked anything like the stuff Cicada had in their den. "Not even a damn stick." After a while, she gave up on that patch of dirt.

Sounds like Tick's got better luck anyway. Fleapaw trots over, tilting her head as she gawked at what he found. Some kind of weed, dangling in his paws. "Uhh… maybe? We can take it to Cicada anyway. Hold onto it."

With that, she went back to poking through the dirt, damp soil squelching between her toes. Her nose wrinkled in thought. Was tree bark useful for anything? Or mud? But they had plenty of that so she figured if mud could heal wounds, Cicada wouldn't need all these stupid herbs.

"I don't understand how they enjoy this crap. This sucks." Her eyes catch on a small lump poking up from the dirt, but its only a rock.

- - -

1d3 rolled. -> 3 : Failure.

Frequencies that I can't understand - I can't be bothered with the teachers

FLEAPAW

6 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 and strength the most. She is clever, sharp tongued, and quick to anger. She is guided by her desire to become stronger and protect those she cares about—at any cost. Fleapaw respects strength but not necessarily authority. She will push boundaries and take advantage of the weak if given the opportunity.

Due to her experiences, Fleapaw is corrupt and lacks morals. She does not believe in Starclan or the Darkforest. However, she is open to the idea of the odd things occurring in ShadowClan being supernatural. Growing up in a kitten mill, being separated from her mother, ending up on the streets, and feeling powerless have deeply affected her view of the world.

Always trying to shape the way I act.

 

[Tickpaw]

TICK

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

" Huh.. " Tickpaw murmured, frowning for a brief moment before shaking off the thought. " I think I know who you mean. But are we sure I want to be his? If it's who I'm thinking of, I don't think I could stand him. " He let out a short laugh as he padded alongside his sister. " The guy who favors strength, right? Gotta say, I'm not exactly built for that, sis. I'm a bit... spindly. " He cast a glance down at himself, flexing a paw in mock consideration before grinning as Flea complained about being constantly knocked over by her own mentor.

" How dare. " he gasped dramatically before adding with a grin. " Should put thorns in his nest. When he's not looking. " His tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable glint of mischief in his orange eyes. As they moved through the undergrowth, Tickpaw nosed through some plants, frowning in concentration. His whiskers twitched as he carefully tugged at something, weed or herb, he had no idea honestly, but he hoped it was something useful. Anything to help Cicadabuzz and, more importantly, to help Flea with the debt she'd taken on for his sake.

" Hey, Flea. What about this? " He stepped toward her, holding out the rush with a hopeful look. " I think this might be something, right? " His ears twitched as he studied it. " Honestly, they all just look like plants to me, but apparently, they each have their own uses. I know poppy seeds help with pain, at least. " His gaze drifted around, scanning the ground for anything else that might stand out. There had to be more, right?

Then, as if the thought had just popped into his head, he cleared his throat. " Stoat's alright, isn't she? Is she your best friend? "

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𖧧 1d3 Roll: 2 - Success
𖧧 1d7 Roll: 3 - Broken Bones
𖧧 Herb Found - Rush