backwritten A LITTLE POSESSIVE ♡ cottonpaw

[juncoclaw]

The fires have destroyed everything. Their flames devoured every last frond of grass, leaving WindClan territory barren and lifeless. To a younger Juncopaw, it would have been a work of art. Now.. as much as she longed to laugh in the faces of Sunstar's WindClan, Junco feels devoid of any emotion.

The fire stopped short of their doorstep, leaving the Horseplace untouched, but Junco had watched it take and take. The barn cats had spoken in hushed voices, as if WindClan might hear their prayers - they all wondered if any cat could survive such a terror. Junco was one of the first ones to venture out and see for herself.

Before the fire, it would have been a death sentence to be this far away from the barn. She had spent all of her time now above the rafters, avoiding WindClan patrols and generally doing well to keep herself hidden. It meant her survival; to the others, it meant she was shy. Junco knew that, if she were to be discovered by a WindClan patrol, she would be outed for her loyalties and consequently kicked out of the barn. She knew that, any other day, if she were caught past the border lines as she was now, it was certain death.

But the fires had been suffocated by the rain only a mere days ago, and the moorlands were quiet. There was no trace of prey, nor cats. As the silver-striped molly approaches the top of a hill, she wonders if she had seen all there was; ash and dead grass. Perhaps WindClan had truly died. Perhaps it was.. Sootstar's doing, a final laugh. Junco's gut twists at the thought of her idol amongst the stars somewhere, painting the moorlands red to avenge herself - to avenge her true Clan. And yet after that effort.. they were still as lost as ever.

She's just about to turn back when she catches movement in the corner of her eye, and instinctively ducks down against the ground. Some several tail-lengths away, she sight of softly freckled grey is barely noticeable against the monotone landscape, but those blue eyes stand out against the dull greens, browns and greys that remained of the moorland grass. Junco's brain tells her to run, but her paws remain still; something in her heart tells her she's safe.

"Cottonpaw," she hisses in little more than a whisper, just audible enough to be caught by the medicine cat, as if there were any sign of life around to overhear. Her green eyes are round as she raises up and slowly approaches. "You're alive," Junco states, blunt but curious. Cottonpaw is alive and unscathed - she wonders if there's more still around, or if Sootstar's daughter was merely lucky.. a mercy of her mother's wrath. "How? The fires.. I thought you were all dead."
​

CHARACTER INFORMATION — ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ♡ — OUT OF CHARACTER

• juncokit juncopaw JUNCOCLAW "JUNCO" ━━ penned by ixora
  ━━ BARNCAT
  ━━ 12 MOONS,, ages every 21st
  ━━ CASSO xx BUDGE
  ━━ MATE to none | PARENT to none
  ━━ MENTOR to none | FORMERLY MENTORED by mockinggrin
  ━━ HEALTH ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎ | junco is healthy.​
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• speech is #6a7d8a​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonpaw can feel the exhaustion in her legs. Ever since returning to camp, she's been non-stop in her personal efforts. Mornings are spent checking on those that reside in her den, nights are making sure no one else is hiding a cough or burns within their pelts. When the sun hits its highest point, she escapes the confines of their hollow and explores, all in the hope for something alive. Prey, plantlife. Anything.

She grows closer to the horseplace, having seen that the fires avoided it prior. She thinks to blame the twolegs, protecting their precious horses and sheep whilst the rest of the moorlands burn and suffer. She wonders if she can nudge some of the barn cats to donate a mouse or two, or if some of the herbs flowering close to the barn have survived despite the smoke in the air. It's her fault that she doesn't notice the silver tabby at first - but that doesn't mean seeing Junco makes her any bit disappointed when she does.

"Oh -!" she jumps, startled, however growing curious after she recognizes the other molly. Her tail twitches and she shifts her direction, walking towards the other. "Junco - you're... yeah, you too," she starts, and awkwardly finishes, a small unsure smile settling within her expression. Alive. If the other had stayed with Granitepelt, that possibility would still be up in the air, she thinks. Junco continues, and it seems that Cottonpaw's match for curiosity burns ever brighter still.

"Smokestar," she says, though there's a bitter tone in her voice. "He let us shelter in RiverClan territory. Not long after that, the rains put out the fires. Camp is safe -" should she be telling Junco that? It's not like Junco doesn't know where they sleep... Cottonpaw forlornly reminds herself, but she keeps the thoughts to her chest. "But everything else is... well, you see," and she vaguely motions to the soot and ash that spans the horizon. After a beat, she looks back to her old friend. "You saw it all, then? The fires, I mean. They were... nice to watch, when I wasn't afraid," though it was a hard state to remain in - one lacking fear, that is.​