Private Dark Forest you're never alone ↟↟↟↟↟ — pumpkinglow

[FLEAFIRE]

-

One moment Fleapaw was curled in her nest—struggling to sleep, mud still crusted on her hocks, scabs stinging, leg stiff and bruised—and the next, she was falling through a dream.

The warmth of the apprentice den vanished. A breath escaped her, fogging in the cold that clung to the air like mist. The darkness here was alive, thick with rot, squirming with things unseen.

Fleapaw knew this place.

Her eyes blinked open to a starless void. Trees loomed above, claw-like branches reaching down. The forest floor was soft and spongy beneath her paws, sloshing faintly as she stirred.

Fleapaw stood slowly, limbs burdened by exhaustion, pain curling up her leg like vines—but she was no less eager, eyes sifting the shadows for a familiar grey pelt. She lifted her chin, smirk tugging at the corners. Excitement pulled at her belly, coaxing the exhaustion from her limbs. At least here, she could train without worrying about stressing her wound. As worn as she felt, the apprentice looked forward to it.

But he wasn't there. No frostbitten air wafted over her bones, the chill in its place paled. Didn't he call for her again? "Froststorm?" She called hoarsely, tongue flicking across her maw. Eyes narrowed as she took a step forward. "Are you there?"

@PUMPKINGLOW

Wings, hearts, some things are meant to be torn apart

FLEAPAW

10 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.

Faith, hope, some things are meant to be gone broke

 

[PUMPKINGLOW PUMPKINGLOW]

Pumpkinglow relishes in the newfound powers shes achieved, the newfound powers Fleecefur had brought attention to. To see home again stirs up something akin to adrenaline-laden excitement in her chest, and it was only natural she was more curious about the new Shadowclanners than the others were, watching, waiting for her time. She had already spoken to their medicine cat, but that had taken much out of her to do... A simple apprentice would suffice, and she picks the feisty one shes been keeping an eye on.

She pulls the cinnamon apprentice through the cracks, through all of those things, and she stirs within her home. One day, she'll be able to step foot in to the living realm again. One day.

When Fleapaw rises, Pumpkinpaw waits behind her with a cheshire-like grin, where she doesn't seem to look. She gets up, and looks around, and what comes out makes Pumpkinglow roll her eyes. "Frossstssstorm?" she hisses the name like a snake, pupils slits as her ears flatten in mock hurt, taking a step forwards if Fleapaw turns around. "Oh, ho-ney," sickeningly sweet is her coo, but pained does it sound, the vibrations rattling against long-ago damaged vocal chords. The slash on her neck weeps on to her paws and she disdainfully looks down at them, flicking the new liquid off as if it were just an annoying fly. "Do you reallllly think i'm that bad, huh? Huh?" her teeth chatter together as if she were cold, and in a way, this place was freezing. Especially so without her queen at her side. Normally she does not stray far from her, but she's had to, recently, to get answers. To get solutions. To be what she had been in life: a scheming nuisance.

"I know you, uh huh, I do." she smiles, saccharine. "Fleapaw." it's not hard to stare through the cracks at the living, to observe. She doesn't speak again, only stares with that same, stupid smile as before.

 

[FLEAFIRE]

-

A serpent slithered from the darkness, her mentor's name rolling from a filthy tongue. Tightness rippled down Fleapaw's spine, claws sliding from their sheaths. That was not Froststorm.

Her amber eyes locked on the shape moving closer, narrowing, sparks flaring from them. Fleapaw's gaze drifts briefly at the gash across her throat, the wound that refused to close, perpetually oozing. It was nasty as shit but she'd seen worse. Froststorm's frost-bitten face was a bigger shock, especially with the cold bleeding off him in waves.

Fleapaw straightened, trying to look bigger than she was. Her lip curls when the stranger's words continued to test her patience. Teeth click together loudly as she opens her mouth. "The fuck?" She hisses. "Not even close. So you outta keep his name outta your freakin' mouth." Filthy puddles sloshed around her paws, soaking her fur in a cold rot as she whips around. Cinnamon hackles lift, her nose wrinkling as pain blooms along her leg.

If Froststorm didn't call for her, why was she there? What did she want?

Fleapaw's paws shifted, claws kneading into the mud. "Nuh-uh. You don't." She mimics, frustration building as she glanced around the darkness, searching for her mentor. Behind her, her tail flicks through the air, becoming more erratic by the second. "Where is he? Why am I here if we're not training?" Was he watching somewhere? He wouldn't mess with her like this, so was it a test?

Wings, hearts, some things are meant to be torn apart

FLEAPAW

10 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.

Faith, hope, some things are meant to be gone broke