Rotraiser

Born to Shroud and Harp in a clowder outskirting a local city, Roach was just another kitten in the endless heir list that Shroud seemed to father. His half-sister, Fire, saw his birth as the last straw in an endless list of final straws. Far too young to know any better nor to have bonded with her, her disappearance came and went, as did his father’s lack of searching.

CW FOR KIT DEATH

Raised alongside several other kittens, Roach saw life as nothing more but a worry of when and where they would meet their end. Xe would see some kin in the clowder around their age fall to sicknesses and a bout of panleukopenia- known to xer as kitten wasting disease- was what truly hammered in xer understanding of existence, and the way it could so easily be ripped away from your paws.

If the panleukopenia outbreak moons ago wouldn’t destroy the clowder, the new onset of softpaw life and trapping would. Dozens of traps began to be set up, and desperation for food grew more and more. Shroud, cocky as ever, convinced his part of the clowder that eating the food wouldn't be that much of a risk.

He was the first cat captured.

Most of fae’s kin would go just as easily, with fae and two other kittens-now older, remaining. Not properly trained, hunting became a struggle, and the comfort of food for the price of the smell of twolegs became more and more appealing, and soon enough the clowder was easily disintegrating more and more. With nothing to hold together the remaining strings, Roach would break away and try desperately to find some semblance of a family.

Xe would find it in the form of a gentle-mannered moggy named Sonata. They took him in under their wings, seeing nothing more than a reflection of themselves; lost, afraid, cold, hungry, looking for a place to rest if and only for a minute. Sonata and their crew had a small colony founded in the roots of an old mangrove tree, and while it wasn’t much, it was the most welcoming home that Roach could find for the time being.

Roach would mature into an adult within the mangrove colony, befriending faer fellows and getting to know Sonata better. It seemed as though the two began to know each other too well, courting briefly. Sonata and Roach were mates for a while, with Roach being so enamored by the thought of finally having someone to xerself. The two were inseparable, bonded at the hip with how Sonata would busy themselves running the colony with Roach leeching desperately to their side.

As Roach grew older, Sonata began to bring up the concept of kits, enraptured by the idea of raising new life to live in the ever flourishing colony. To continue the bloodline, to do as mates always do, the endless reasons that Sonata listed seemed to be reiterated and brought up over and over again. Don’t you want kits? But the answer that lingered in his head, clear as day, was a solid No. No I don’t. But how could he say that to his mate? Didn’t he love them? Didn’t they share the same goals, the same ideals?

CW FOR MANIPULATIVE RELATIONSHIP/ABORTIFACIENT USE

Sonata began to pull back on their affection, on their love, all in hopes of better enticing Roach to want kits the same way he wanted Sonata. Try as they might, it seemed the relationship began to fray, strings pulled looser and looser each day with passing events, passing inconveniences to one another. A burr left in the other's nest, little prey left to share between the two of them, and more importantly, the only developing thing between the two being a grudge.

And then it happened. The sudden onset of illness was rapid, and briefly, Roach considered that maybe he was dying. Maybe this was how his kin had died, stomach churning violently and body struggling to keep him going. Then came the awful, awful words from the doctor, a nice young molly oblivious to the strained relationship.

Aren’t you excited to be a father?

The words spoken were more than enough to bring him to the brink of tears. No, of course not, why would I ever want to bring something into this world? How selfish do you think I am? Words left unspoken, but the tears on his face were more than enough to convince an elder moggy in the group before he could speak his truth.

I know of something, it’s an old wives’ tale, but… it could help you if you’re willing to try.

The only thing he remembers next was the horrid taste of cotton root bark in his mouth. The way his body felt like an ocean, swirling and dancing, almost as if teasing him with the idea of just spitting it out instead and keeping the damn thing.

It passes as soon as Sonata hears of it, and with it comes the end of Roach’s time in the mangrove colony. Their excitement turns to grief turns to rage turns to nearly slashing Roach’s face, and xe gladly turns tail, hoping to find greener pastures, roaming for moons.

And thus xe finds xerself at the edge of the Everglade Warren.