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.

Territory RiverClan Loner/Rogue wind through the fields | a chance encounter

This thread takes place outside the clan's camp in its territory.
Heather
Heather

Heather

fool for love
Loner/Rogue
5
1
Freshkill
40
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she/her
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Plot_Twists
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The grass underfoot was damp with morning dew, and Heather's pelt shivered with the slight chill in the morning breeze. The end of the warm season was fast approaching, and while it would still probably get hot enough that afternoon for some time sunning herself on one of the Twoleg's outdoor furniture, the warmth of the mornings was evaporating like the mist after a storm. Her thicker coat would grow in soon, and she paused to consider that it would soon be the first snowy season without her parents or siblings around.

While they weren't close by any means, she did feel a bit of a twinge in her heart at the thought of weathering the snow alone. Shivering, cold.

Well, unless... Maybe Ivytwist would...

No, they weren't quite close enough for that right now. And she had time to figure things out! After all, there was still the season with all the pretty leaves, and the warm season wasn't over yet, and she was feeling awful fond of that warrior. There was time for things to progress, surely!

Lost in thought, she didn't notice as her pawsteps crossed the RiverClan border and led her deeper into RiverClan territory. A butterfly flitted past her face, and her eyes widened, haunches wiggling as she moved to leap for it. With a pleased mrow!, she pounced, slamming her paws down with the butterfly pinned below. Her tail lashed back and forth, pleased with her little catch - even if it wouldn't be worth much as a meal.


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—————————————————— Rocked by an endless motion ✦


These days, it seemed as though the sun dragged its feet, refusing to set until the apprentice was entirely worn down. It wasn't the fault of much else but its own—the passing of the days only meant that the inevitable day he graduated drew closer. The freedom of choice, the wind through his pelt... the tall cat could almost taste it, as tantalizing as a fish in the shallows. Perhaps the days would seem shorter if the tom hadn't been waking up in the early mornings, gentle paws ready to sink thin claws into the tasks of the day. Of course, many of the tasks were self-imposed, and of little use to anyone but the lynxpoint. Still, it didn't seem right to begin a day without taking a silent, lonely patrol of the territory.

And so he went about it, small paws trekking a trail that had worn into his mind. It wasn't a particularly useful excursion, as the tom certainly wasn't leaving any scent markers—but it was a comforting one, one populated by the chittering of birds underfoot and overhead. It was rare when he chattered back, but he took note of the feathery news-bringers all the same... even if the majority of what they called about really had no bearing on how he'd go about his next moments. A particular call did draw his attention though, and he found himself meandering towards it. It was sharp, shrill, and thoroughly coated in danger.

And as per usual, the scent that followed was one of a cat's... but with a wrinkled nose, he couldn't help but note a particular unfamiliar quality about it. It wasn't like the other scents he had smelt during the gathering... no, this was something new, something other. It didn't take him long to spot the molly from which the smell was coming, and Galepaw watched her with a muted interest through the underbrush. Striking blue eyes squinted with curiosity as it watched the other leap into the air, smashing something colorful and flitting into the ground with a gentle noise. A quiet huff escaped from his maw, something just short of a chuckle, and he popped his head above the brush to get a better look. This was no violent rogue—he'd be surprised if she didn't turn tail and run at the sight of him.

"Not exactly the most glamorous of catches." The tom noted coolly, long legs stepping out of the brush with knowledgeable grace. "Not for a Riverclanner, at least... Of which you are decidedly not." Galepaw punctuated his last statement with an inquisitive tilt of his head, wind-blown fur falling in cascades over his shoulder. "...Unless I am mistaken...?" It questioned, though there was no real aggression nor confusion behind his words—he knew exactly who this stranger was by knowing who she was not, and by all means she was from no clan that he knew of.

—————Whether truth or just a story
It's not up to you—————
  • Galepaw
    ✦—Riverclan Apprentice | 10 Moons
    ✦—He/They/It
    ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    ✦—A fluffy high white lynx point with curled ears and deep blue eyes
    #87878E #BAB2AC
 
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Heather nearly jumped out of her fur when someone else spoke. Her tail puffed out in surprise, and her back arched - she may not be much in a fight, but she could at least attempt to make her little frame seem larger than it was.

"S-stay back!" she mewed, eyeing the younger cat warily. Warily... until they mentioned RiverClan. Maybe they knew Ivytwist! Her fur smoothed, though the slight puff remained in her tail, and she let her muscles relax just a little. She hadn't met this cat before, but there was a hint of that scent she remembered from Ivytwist - fish and water and reeds.

"Um, sorry. You kinda surprised me," she said, tucking her still fluffy tail around her paws as she sat. "And... you're right. I'm not from RiverClan. Is that nearby at all?"


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  • Loner || 19 moons
    SPEECH || THOUGHTS
 
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