🥂🛼 SASHA 🦚🎆

We're just too young, ignorant and innocent.

At six moons, he was given an apprentice name and a mentor, an older tom with fresh lime eyes and a hardened smile by the name of Showstopper. Immediately, Fruitpaw feared and respected his mentor, and there was only admiration in the spark of his eyes whenever he came to awake him in the apprentices' den. From the beginning, Fruitpaw was hard-set on proving himself a worthy apprentice to Showstopper, though he only displayed determination when his mentor was watching. When he wasn't, he slacked off and ran away to disappear somewhere in the forest.

A couple moons into his apprenticeship, a new cat stumbled into the Clan: a molly the leader named Snappaw with impressively intimidating fangs and windswept fur. Fruitpaw felt the world beneath his paws collide and fall apart when his eyes first landed upon her; somehow, deep in his memory, her presence felt comforting and strangely familiar. He despised that warmness. The two clashed within an instant, and their rivalry became the heart of their apprenticeship. Fruitpaw, a cat who'd previously preferred peace and security, suddenly threw himself into a path of risk and competition. He never backed down from a chance to fight her.

Sinister faces, growing curses. This is my last war.

Fruitpaw's warrior assessment involved his maneuvering through a crowded mall and stealing Twoleg belongings. He passed with flying colors, grabbing various human objects including a house key that reminded him of his former caretaker, Horizonline. Earning his warrior name, Fruitpunch, he kept the key that he'd stolen and found twine to keep it around his neck like a medal. Of course, he wasn't the only one to pass: Snappaw became Snapdragon right beside him.

Becoming warriors never interrupted their rivalry; instead, it seemed to be getting worse with every passing moon. Deep beneath their fiery, short-tempered banter and injury-inducing competitions, a firm bond and attachment was forming between the two. Though he never admitted to it, Fruitpunch felt cold when she wasn't beside him, when her breath wasn't matching his, when they weren't lost in the blaze of each other's pulse.

Let's start a new life from the darkness, until the light reveals the end.

Three moons after becoming a warrior, Fruitpunch's heart crashed. Snapdragon hadn't returned from patrol despite the rest having done so; mind racing and tripping over words, Fruitpunch numbly hunted her down. He found her bleeding out as his gaze trailed to a deep wound across her back, showing flesh. He was mortified, breaths coming shakily as he was undone. Despite the heartbreak, the sickness, and the torture, Fruitpunch hauled her back to camp and demanded Miss heal her. He curled up beside Snapdragon as she quietly recovered, so unlike the rowdy nuisance of a cat he'd known and held on to so dearly. Fruitpunch stayed like this for a long time, neglecting to eat or groom himself out of fear of losing Snapdragon the moment his mind wandered from her. When she finally awoke, Fruitpunch's vision became a watery mess. Their relationship seemed to instantly change, transforming into unbreakable affection and adoration. Later, when Fruitpunch was almost killed by an enemy, Snapdragon returned the favor and saved him.

As AlleyClan entered an era of turmoil, Miss approached the two mates and offered them a task: free themselves from AlleyClan but work under her as hitmen. Fruitpunch, though initially wary, agreed when Sabre showed interest. Since then, the two have slaughtered the streets, stacking kill counts and corpses. Now, Miss has given them a new duty: act as bodyguards to an unsung emerging "hero" by the name of Six.