private π–𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 β•± π‰π”ππ‚πŽ

With the pervasive sense of death still surrounding them, Sunstar trudges from the medicine den. Determination laps at him in quiet waves. In and out with every breath, for every exhale bleeds away all that he has, and every inhale allows him a few more steps. Junco, once-clan, now-stranger, is not wholly a part of this place. The burrow that makes up her prison and her home is all that she has. (It reminds him, painfully, of Sootstar in her final moments β€” how many cats she had ruined with all of this.) However much time passes from her defeat, they never seem to get any further away from it. A great spiral up towards freedom, but each time that they pass above it he is painfully reminded. At times, he is very nearly there again.

A quiet sigh as he comes to the mouth of the burrow. His broad-shouldered shadow leaves only a sliver of light around him as he slinks in. It has been widened to fit moor runner frames in times of terrible storms, but not comfortably so. He feels squeezed. Small. The guard remains outside but Sunstar's voice is low. "It seems that you have much to tell me."
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  • ooc: @juncoclaw
  • β†Ÿ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€„β€„β‹†Μ΄ΜŒΝ›Ν–Μ»β€†β‹†Μ΅ΜΜΏΝƒΜΝΜΌΝˆ ⋆̢̬́̀
    ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.

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    a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
 
Does she regret leaving Horseplace? Does she regret saving Cottonpaw? It's all Junco can think about today, tightly guarded in this cramped old burrow like she had been for days. More than ever, she wants to stretch her legs and feel the wind, even if it means trudging across burnt moorlands. Even if it means leaving this place entirely.

The exile spends much of her days in a half-sleep state. If she is not listening to the chatter and gossip from outside the burrow, she is stuck in the same old daydreams she always was. They were fuzzier, now; instead of Sootstar at her head, she sees a blur of a figure, faceless. She sees no mate and kits that she once did. Her future was falling apart in front of her - and her own paws led her there.

Though she is treated and fed, Junco would sooner die than spend an eternity in this burrow. At least being lazy in Horseplace had its' room and its privacy - at least she had to try and hunt there. Many times she had thought about refusing the prey and herbs brought to her, but she would not be able to resist Cottonpaw's coaxing. It seems, despite her wishes, she is simply stuck.


Junco is disturbed from her distorted daydreams when the light leading into the tunnel blots out, casting a furry shadow into the burrow walls. The figure tries to make his way in, and she now feels just as uncomfortable as he does. There is not enough room for Junco and Sunstar - her thin frame does not quite make up for the space the brute takes. As if she was forced, Junco pushes herself up against the wall to make herself smaller with a dissatisfied grunt. And then, the brute speaks.

"Much to tell you?" Junco echoes. Her eyebrows raise and she puts on a perplexed façade. "Well.. you must know nothing really happens at Horseplace. Well, we lost a little one recently.." She thinks of Harvest, the barn-kitten who took such a keen interest in her and followed her like a shadow. It's the only bit of news that she could muster. But, ah, she knows that's not what Sunstar is asking about - and she knows she can't play dumb forever.

Junco's face falls into something more serious with furrowed brows and pursed lips. "I suppose I might. What do you want to hear?" He should be able to piece together most of it. She was WindClan, and then she wasn't. DuskClan, once, until she suddenly appeared to Cottonpaw at the barn. And now, she is here. Junco fears she knows what he wants, and hopes he doesn't ask. Much as she dislikes Granitepelt and his lackeys, she already visibly betrayed them once - any more, and the target over her head would become a bounty, easily reaped once she's inevitably kicked back out into the moorland or beyond.
  • juncokit juncopaw JUNCOCLAW "JUNCO" ━━ penned by ixora
    ━━ BARNCAT
    ━━ 13 MOONS,, ages every 21st
    ━━ CASSO xx BUDGE
    ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
    ━━ MENTOR to none | FORMERLY MENTORED by mockinggrin
    ━━ HEALTH β™₯︎β™₯︎β™₯︎β™₯︎β™₯︎ | junco is healthy.​
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  • speech is #6a7d8a