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 air near Fourtrees is dense and quiet, save for the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the breeze and the slow breathing of cats in shadow. Cicadabuzz stands still, their tail draped in dried tansy and marigold, dew glistening against the fibers like stars caught in a spiderweb. Their gaze drifts from one gathered cat to the next—Wolfpack, tall and still; Stoatpaw and Vulturepaw shifting with a mix of nerves and determination; Coalstrike nearly indistinguishable from the darkness he stands in. Cicadabuzz speaks low, their voice soft, but never uncertain.
"We are not here to fight." The words carry like a whisper shaped from stone. Final. Measured. "We go in quiet, move fast, and leave faster. I've explained to you what the herbs I would like to to grab look like. You will grab them and get out." They pause and look upward—just briefly—toward the open sky framed by the four ancient, towering trees, as if reading something from the stars before dropping their eyes again. "There is no glory in spilling blood tonight. No need to prove yourselves here. If a cat wakes, if RiverClan catches wind of us—do not waste time playing hero. Take what you have and run." Their shoulders rise and fall in a slow breath. Their fur shifts slightly as the dried petals and herbs attached to their pelt catch a draft in the silence between words. They don't speak for drama—Cicadabuzz never does. But they let the silence stretch for a heartbeat before continuing. "If claws are drawn, defend yourselves. But don't linger. Don't try to carry more than you can. If you're cornered, you will run. If it is between yourself and the herbs, you drop the herbs and flee."
Their gaze lingers a moment on Stoatpaw, then Vanillapaw, then Vulturepaw. Younger bodies. Fast, yes—but new to risk. "I won't patch any of you up just to watch you bleed again for pride. Do not make me waste what we came to collect." They turn slightly, glancing toward the distant shimmer of reeds and riverwater where RiverClan sleeps unaware. "I know what they keep there. I've seen it before, when we were not yet ShadowClan. Fennel. Goatweed. Willow leaves. Things we do not have in our land. That is what we're after. Not vengeance. Not territory. Not some self-righteous stand." Another glance backward. Eyes meeting each of theirs again, slow and steady. "If something happens and I fall behind, don't come back for me. I will find my own way."
A flick of the ear cuts off any imagined protest. "That goes for all of us. No martyrs tonight." They step forward, tail trailing behind like a river weed in slow current. "Once we cross the river, no more talking. You know your instructions. You know your goal. The moon is now behind cloud. Let's move before it changes its mind." And with that, Cicadabuzz melts into the underbrush, the herbs woven in their fur rustling like dry breath on stone, leading them into the dark.
[ please wait for a few of the people tagged to post first before replying!! ]
[ @WOLFPACK @Coalstrike @Cherryblaze @Jadethorn @Hollowmist @Stoatpaw @VULTUREPAW @VANILLAPAW ]
"We are not here to fight." The words carry like a whisper shaped from stone. Final. Measured. "We go in quiet, move fast, and leave faster. I've explained to you what the herbs I would like to to grab look like. You will grab them and get out." They pause and look upward—just briefly—toward the open sky framed by the four ancient, towering trees, as if reading something from the stars before dropping their eyes again. "There is no glory in spilling blood tonight. No need to prove yourselves here. If a cat wakes, if RiverClan catches wind of us—do not waste time playing hero. Take what you have and run." Their shoulders rise and fall in a slow breath. Their fur shifts slightly as the dried petals and herbs attached to their pelt catch a draft in the silence between words. They don't speak for drama—Cicadabuzz never does. But they let the silence stretch for a heartbeat before continuing. "If claws are drawn, defend yourselves. But don't linger. Don't try to carry more than you can. If you're cornered, you will run. If it is between yourself and the herbs, you drop the herbs and flee."
Their gaze lingers a moment on Stoatpaw, then Vanillapaw, then Vulturepaw. Younger bodies. Fast, yes—but new to risk. "I won't patch any of you up just to watch you bleed again for pride. Do not make me waste what we came to collect." They turn slightly, glancing toward the distant shimmer of reeds and riverwater where RiverClan sleeps unaware. "I know what they keep there. I've seen it before, when we were not yet ShadowClan. Fennel. Goatweed. Willow leaves. Things we do not have in our land. That is what we're after. Not vengeance. Not territory. Not some self-righteous stand." Another glance backward. Eyes meeting each of theirs again, slow and steady. "If something happens and I fall behind, don't come back for me. I will find my own way."
A flick of the ear cuts off any imagined protest. "That goes for all of us. No martyrs tonight." They step forward, tail trailing behind like a river weed in slow current. "Once we cross the river, no more talking. You know your instructions. You know your goal. The moon is now behind cloud. Let's move before it changes its mind." And with that, Cicadabuzz melts into the underbrush, the herbs woven in their fur rustling like dry breath on stone, leading them into the dark.
[ please wait for a few of the people tagged to post first before replying!! ]
[ @WOLFPACK @Coalstrike @Cherryblaze @Jadethorn @Hollowmist @Stoatpaw @VULTUREPAW @VANILLAPAW ]
