sensitive topics a sharp drop and a sudden stop — return with juniper's body

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 /cw for death, mention of severe injury, blood

His jaw aches from intermittently gripping Juniperfrost's scruff and his paws are caked in dirt. He's made a mess of Sunstride and the ground they've covered, thrown over the warrior's back, though in the last stretch his cooling body has bled far more sluggishly. Wolfsong has done what he can to cover the trail. To lose a warrior and draw the attention of any curious predators would add insult to grievous injury, and though his mouth has remained silent during their trek back, his mind is a clamorous collision of sound.

The RiverClan warrior will hardly implicate herself in this matter. WindClan will be the easy perpetrator to blame and no one would question the truth. Juniperfrost was verbally aggressive but he did not drag her across the border to wear cracks in her skull. And then, Perhaps he should have. RiverClan is an enemy regardless, and if he had, they would be one warrior fewer.

It is only when they are deeper into WindClan territory, not far from camp, that Wolfsong stops and directs Sunstride to do the same. "The kits should not see him like this," he says quietly, doubting for a moment whether Sunstride will agree. "I'll find Sootstar, and Badgermoon— and Vulturemask. The others, too." He won't prevent other warriors from arriving, but it is authority Wolfsong seeks.

Without another word, he leaves Sunstride with Juniperfrost, murdered by a maddened RiverClanner.

//please wait for @SUNSTRIDE and at least one other hp to post!
@SOOTSTAR @Badgermoon @WEASELCLAW @TIGERFROST @VULTUREMASK
​

 

[SUNSTAR]

This is not the first that he and Ellisif have hauled the remnants of a friend back home, nor would it be the last. Yet if there were a thousand deaths at each corner of his life, this is one that would plague him for seasons to come. The weight of Juniperfrost's cooling body rests across his shoulders, prickling at his pelt like spiders walking the seams of his skin, threatening to split him apart. Perhaps he is merely overfull, swayed with a mixture of grief and rage that does not know any end. Juniperfrost was no friend of his, but all that dwelled within these moors were home, they were as close as kin to him. They were there to protect, to shield, and this is how their night would end regardless.

As they crest the rolling moors, drawing close enough to camp that he might see their tangled walls, he stops. Wolfsong barely needs to speak before he is nodding along. For a moment, it is as things were, with understanding echoing across the bond between them, but the noise rings hollow after a moment. There is a body weighing down upon his shoulders, and it was a RiverClanner that had dealt the final blows. He had been right. He'd known that peace with them could only ever be a fragment, a shard that would soon aim itself at WindClan hearts– they were cowards and snakes, fattened by easy prey and false courage. What would they do with this pride, this allowance? To know that they had killed one of their warriors and gotten away with it?

He is smeared with blood and dust, and a grim, hateful expression as Wolfsong retreats to camp. He lowers the tabby to the dull grass, bones aching with effort to restrain his speed. Even like this, he cannot pretend that the tom is anything but what he is: dead.

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. thirty-six moons old. lead warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
  —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

​

 

[TIGERFROST]

Tags and Information

---

He's not entirely sure what he expects when he is retrieved alongside other higher positions within WindClan. The words were grim enough on their own, but to actually lay his eyes upon the scene is another matter entirely. Tigerfrost had been enjoying the flesh of a hare when Wolfsong finally returns to the hollow that was their home, and from his fanged maw drips not pleasant greetings, but horrible news. Without a word, Tigerfrost leaves his carcass for whomever wanted to finish it, and heads up the slope and out of WindClan's camp. The tall grass tickles his long legs as he strides toward the scene, the metallic scent of blood so strong upon the new-leaf wind. When he finally arrives, his flaming eyes settle upon the body of his clan-mate, and pupils shimmer within boiling cauldrons of rage.

It is a vile sight. Juniperfrost has been mangled, it seems. His skull dashed against stones. Tigerfrost instantly understands just why the fallen Warrior had not been brought into camp for all to see. This was no peaceful death, but a gruesome killing. A murder. His blazing eyes shift up toward Sunstride, silently demanding the explanation that he knows his fellow Lead Warrior shall dutifully give. Who had done this? Whomever it was, Tigerforst would accept nothing short of their blood.​

 

[Spiderbloom]

Spiderbloom rarely felt the warmth of love. But it was beginning to become clear to her she was going through a change. A familiar one, one that would cause her much discomfort and eventually pain, but....

That's pregnancy, baby!!!

She was carrying Juniperfrost's kits. She could not be happier, letting her heart open and allowing herself to glow with joy. It was rare to see her this way. In fact, this was probably the only time anyone ever saw her happy.

Her kits would be safe here. They would grow up to be strong warriors of Windclan, and she couldn't wait to tell Juniperfrost. He had left on a patrol before she could tell him, so she waited impatiently, pacing back and forth near the entrance.

Were things finally going to be okay? Had she finally earned a stroke of good fortune?

Please say she had.

Her first inkling of something wrong was Wolfsong coming through the entrance alone. She gave him a respectful nod, and sat down. That meant the others were coming back too, right?

Impatient, she figured she would meet them nearby. She left camp and was immediately welcomed with the scent of blood. She thought nothing of it at first..... Until she got closer. It was awful, the smell. But she was wholly unprepared for what she would see when she parted the grass to meet the patrol.

Sunstride, Tigerfrost, and the horrific vision of Juniperfrosts mangled body.

She stood there, stone still, eyes wide with horror.

She was a fool to think anything could go right for her.

She inched closer, throat too tight to speak much. Trembling she crouched, pressing her face against the side of Juniperfrosts face that wasn't smashed.

He wouldn't get to see his kits. She would be left alone, with nothing but stories to tell them of their father.

Claws gripped the ground as tears wet her face. The shock was turning into grief and rage.

"Who.....Who did it....." Came her whisper, cold as ice and laced with venom.

"I didn't even get to tell him..... He's a father..."

She rose to her feet once more, her veins coursing with rage and it showed on her face as she looked to Sunstride for his answer. She knew it wasn't him, but he was the only one here who would know.

It was the most expressive she'd been in moons. Happiness ripped away from her again, leaving nothing but bitterness, grief and hatred.
​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw sees the blood spotting on Wolfsong's light-colored pelt and immediately knows there's trouble. He and Tigerfrost keep pace as they follow him from camp into the heart of WindClan's territory. The smell of a newly-made corpse, just beginning to stiffen, is redolent in the crisp newleaf air. Weaselclaw comes to a halt next to his fellow lead warriors, his blue eyes wide as they settle upon the site of a fallen comrade.

"Juniperfrost," he murmurs, shock causing his limbs to stiffen. He'd seen the blue tabby only hours ago, in camp, performing the comfortable monotanies that Clan life offers its members.

The horrific marks on him are undoubtedly caused by cat claws. He knows a battle wound when he sees one -- he's received plenty of them himself. The tabby's pelt prickles. Another rogue? The same rogue who'd killed Branchfall?

But there's something else under that heady scent of death and new decay. "RiverClan?" He asks, incredulous. He swings his gaze from Wolfsong to Sunstride, questioning. "Did... did they kill him?"

Before he can say anything else, Spiderbloom arrives on the scene, her grief manifesting in ice-cold rage. "I didn't even get to tell him... he's a father." A father, a chance to raise his kits right, away from SkyClan's clutches, stolen from Juniperfrost forever.

Blood begins to roar in his ears. A sprint in tight-packed snow over frosty moors, a rabbit disappearing over the Twoleg Bridge and into a detested black-pelted RiverClanner's grasp. Claws and fangs meeting in battle. A certain silver warrior's embarrassing, shameful breakdown in camp...

He does not accuse her out loud, but Weaselclaw's claws unsheathe and sink into the dust. If he discovers Hyacinthbreath is behind this, he will kill her himself. He will bring her disgusting fish-tainted pelt back for his children to play with.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Firefang]

Part of her has always looked up to Juniperfrost; a strong stalwart warrior with a deathly cold gaze and a tongue that spat out permafrost. He was dangerous as intimidating as any warrior of Windclan hoped to be, he'd proven his strength time and time again and Firefang could only hope to one day bare the same presence as he did. She would earn his respect no his praise one day - stand besides him as one of the greatest among the clan she's certain of that the idea he would never live to see the day she'd stand on equal footing wasn't one that grazed her mind. Juniperfrost seemed invincible as did many of the clanamtes she held in such esteem - he may not have the luxury of many lives but she never imagined his death would arrive in any due haste. He is not Branchfall, not Wisteriapaw, not Sunsetbreeze yet fate cared little for his innate talents and loyalty, he'd been felled died like so many others in the prior moons.

She'd curiously left the camp to investigate the sounds of meows outside the walls of the camp only to be met with the limp body of one of Windclans once strongest warriors. He's limp there is no dignity to it; no longer were his shoulders squared no longer could she see well honed muscles rippling with every stride nor battle scars hidden beneath silver fur. His eyes stare blankly from what she can make out of them - his head concave as it is - they don't have that cold lapse of ferocity anymore they're empty looking straight out into nothing, Juniperfrost wasn't behind them anymore what she stares at was a husk. She wonders if she would ever get used to the sight of a clanmates body, if this would ever feel normal to her. This was the way of life, but it still made bile want to wash into her throat.

She pads to the side of Tigerfrost, her posture bowed ears flattened and her pupils little more then needles, she can't pull her eyes away from what remains of him. Her legs shake. Her ears would swivel at the sound of a grief-stricken Spiderbloom who snarls a revelation that makes her heart heavier then it already was as if it was pouring molasses into her very veins. this wasn't fair! Why? What had happened? How could he of all warriors be dead? Her eyes shut forcing a reprieve from the grizzled end of Juniperfrost. Unconsciously she shifts closer to Tigerfrost as if trying to find some form of comfort to ground herself, her fur likely brushing against his own. So much death in such little time, wasn't Starclan looking out for them? This wasn't fair, this wasn't how things were supposed to be! He should be alive, should be off barking orders at apprentices and lesser warriors not a crumpled mess at Sunstride's paws.

Her eyes would open brain wracking until it latches onto something Weaselclaw had brought fourth; a name - a clan - a easy target. Just the word 'Riverclan' being spoken is enough to light a blazing flame back into her heart, her muzzle scrunches up anger and disgust creating a visage of pure hatred on the young warriors faces. She doesn't wait for confirmation her mind latches onto the one thing that can distract her from this. ❝If it was them❞ blazing vitriol pours into each syllable as dangerous as snake venom ❝We'll gut every last one of em' like the fish they eat❞ her claws dig into the earth, her tail lashes wildly behind her.

❝Th-They'll pay!❞ she chokes on her words hot emotion overcoming her, she wants to rush off onwards the gorge now, to avenge him before his body has gone cold. It's what he would've wanted - it's impulsive as impulsive as her speaking without comprehending the full story but little would change about her feelings towards their riverborn enemy. ​

( ✦ )

 

[SOOTSTAR]

The tiny molly had to be fetched from her den, that is where she had been spending a majority of time as of late. Wolfsong briskly tells her there was an incident at the RiverClan patrol, in an instant she is out in the clearing creeping towards Juniperfrost’s body. It was in a horrendous state, blood relentlessly gushed from wounds and Juniperfrost’s eyes remained open, staring blankly at the ground.

As cats such as Firefang verbalize that RiverClan will pay she nods, they will, someway somehow. She won’t stop her clan from charging into battle if they’d like, blood must be the price the water clan pays for this. Nonetheless, StarClan’s words echo in her ears ”if you continue down this path of senseless bloodshed, you will fail”. ”I will not…” She murmurs, shaking her head.

Green eyes dart to the nursery, Wolfsong may not want the kits to see, but she does. Especially her own kits. ”Children.” She calls to them, some were already curiously peering out of the nursery. ”I want you to see this, I want you to remember this forever. You are looking at evil’s ugly doings. Never forget what the vile RiverClan has done to slight WindClan, never forget what they have taken.”

Without so much else as a word she sulks back to her den, leaving her clan to their devices.​

---

Spoiler: TAGS ★ 02/19

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· SOOTSTAR, female — she / her
╰ ‣ 37 moons . pisces. ages on the first
╰ ‣ windclan leader . marsh-born . believes in starclan
╰ ‣ former soldier of the marsh group

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like heather and wet dirt , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue smoke . scarred chest, difficult to see through fur . green eyes

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Lawful Evil
╰ ‣ Cunning, brash, fierce, confident, self-reliant, envious & selfish
╰ ‣ finds great difficulty in relating to others . can be cruel, usually shows mercy to those she can find sympathy with
╰ ‣ sole key to her heart is loyalty, if you have her trust, she often shows a completely different side of herself. Aggression tends to manifest from her extreme paranoia
╰ ‣ Appreciates titles such as "miss, m'am" etc

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· SOOT CLAW x PEBBLE BREEZE, sister to Pebblenose
╰ ‣ heterosexual. mate to Weaselclaw
╰ ‣ mother to Windstrider, Sootchaser, Moorkit, Adderkit, Harrierkit, Bluekit & Cottonkit
╰ ‣ mentor to Smokepaw
╰ ‣ average fighter . skilled hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​

​

​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 08 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

---

Periwinklepaw knows that scent. Even beneath the cloying metalic tang of blood and death he knows her like he knows himself. His mother. He almost expects it to be her body they've brought back, a spoil of war. Instead it is Juniperfrost - a tome for which Peri has never really cared for, never really liked. To many glares sent his way, to many muttered words about him and his siblings and his parents. Something was very wrong with the tom, his death was no loss.

Slowly weaving his way out the medicine den and into the crowd, he feels rather nauseas as he takes in the sight. This has been done with so much cruelty, so much brutality. Ah, he thinks, so that's where i get it from. Moonshadow had always been rather passive after all, and he hadn't actually been present for Hyacinths first attack upon the tom. But this? This was an all to familiar scene - a loss of control. His mind thinks backs to his recent spar - if he'd been normal, if he'd had more battle knowledge, would that be firefang displayed so proudly upon the ground?

The thought bothers him less than it real should - which only make him feel sicker. He wobbles, face paling rapidly. He thinks he might be sick. Sootstar is going to show children this? It is sheer self-preservation keeping his mouth shut, fangs biting down so hard upon his tongue and cheeks he's no longer just smelling blood but tasting it. He turns tail and flees - back to vulturemasks den, bac to saftey.

// out

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[GRAVELSNAP]

There is another body. Another clanmate, drained of life and left to rot, surely, by some enemy that Gravelpaw will mark for life. They only know, as they make their tired, shambling approach, that there is a body.

They never in a thousand years would have guessed that the body would be their uncle—or at least, what is left of him. Mangled, his corpse is, incapable of sustaining life even if there were somehow a spark left within him. Bile crawls up the back of their throat, an idle threat. Their jaw clamps shut. No words will come out, but also neither will their last meal. They wonder what the last thing Juniperfrost ate was; did he enjoy it, even unknowing that it was his last? The thought sends a lick of fire curling through their belly—scorching, burning. Red hot and angry, the apprentice considers marching right up to stupid RiverClan’s stupid border, their stupid bridge, and crossing right over their stupid border. Finding whichever maggot-ridden wormbag did such a thing to their uncle. Ripping them apart.

Gravelpaw is surprised to find that the thought doesn’t make them feel any better.

"I…" The words seem to grow inside their throat, muscles tensing until they feel as though they’ll choke on whatever may come spilling out. They didn’t even like silver-furred bastard, only liked that he was powerful and strong and he was their uncle. Someone they hope to be like someday. But he’s gone now, and some mistakes can be fixed but this one—this one can’t. Because this is only a mistake for WindClan, for Juniperfrost. Whoever did this, they were full of malice. They wanted him dead, and they wanted to be sure of it.

The voices of their clanmates bleed into one another, dripping with rage and hurt and even fear, maybe, but none of it matters to Gravelpaw. Blinking rapidly, they turn and stumble off, shoving past anyone who happens to be in their way. They need to be alone, they need to be somewhere they can breathe.
​

[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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[SOOTCHASER]

disturbance follows wolfsong into the camp, trouble spelled upon his golden fur with crimson. he's summoning windclan's council with hushed words, and though sootchaser's tufted ears strain to overhear, he's left with questions circling his head until he's dizzy. blood does not mean anything good, and he wonders to who it belongs. wolfsong looks unharmed, after all... had another rogue slipped through the cracks? tried to attack another clanmate, only to be rightfully executed?

something in his gut tells him it isn't so simple if wolfsong's grim expression is anything to go by.

sootchaser rises to his paws, trailing behind his mother like her shadow as she exits the camp. nothing could have prepared him for the sight he's met with—as a soldier of windclan, he is no stranger to blood. his mother rules with an iron fist, and those who disregard starclan's will to revolt paint the moors sanguine with their treachery. and he has willed his claws to open those traitorous veins with glee. but he sees what was once juniperfrost, crumpled on the ground with his own blood pooling around his crushed skull like a grotesque halo. his face is nigh unrecognizable, caved in and soaked in the ichor. if it hadn't been for the murmur of the fallen warrior's name on weaselclaw's lips, sootchaser might've been able to fool himself into thinking that this wasn't juniperfrost. he could've told himself that this was no cat that he knew, that windclan had not suffered yet another loss.

but it would be a childish lie. a weak attempt for comfort.

sootchaser sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his paws shaking as his claws dig into the dirt. the cold shock that froze his insides melts away with the sudden onset of fury. "whoever did this... we'll flay them alive and leave them for the crows." his skin crawls beneath his bristling fur; he wants to tear his widened eyes away from the horrific sight, but he couldn't. he needs to remember this, burn it into his mind so he never forgets this injustice. juniperfrost's disfigured face might haunt his dreams for moons to come, but his horrific death would not go unpunished for as long as sootchaser still drew breath.

riverclan, weaselclaw points out. sootchaser unhinges his clenched jaw to drink in the nauseating stench of premature decay for himself, only to jerk back with a hiss. there, underneath the blood and gore, lies the unmistakable scent of fish. the ashen prince curls his lips, swinging his head around to regard his mother with a silent question; what will you do? if it was his call to make, he would march to riverclan's territory with a battalion to avenge what they'd taken. but it isn't, and he must look to the empress for his next course of action.

she does not offer one to him. she does not offer one to any of them, and sootchaser bites down on his own lip in frustration at being without any orders as she slinks back to her den. mother seems to be infatuated with the inside of her den as of late... part of him thinks with a tick-tick-tick of his twitching tail tip. but he doesn't have time to ponder on the why. with a huff and a shake of his reeling head, sootchaser turns back to glower down at the corpse. what a waste. he hadn't been anything more than acquaintances with juniperfrost, but he'd known the blue-furred tom to be loyal and devoted to sootstar. two traits that are hard to come by, nowadays. "i'll help." with what, he leaves open-ended; he doesn't even know if there's going to be a vigil for juniperfrost, with how gruesome the warrior looks.​

 

[Bluepool]

Bluepool is drawn forwards by the flood of cats that flock out of the camp, the horrified voices and cries of anguish. More than anything, it is a morbid curiosity that leads her paws, she possesses the knowledge that at the end of the trail is only blood and violence but she follows it anyways.

She pushes her way through the small crowd, coming to stand just behind her sister and her pale yellow eyes spot the mangled body immediately. Juniperfrost. She can’t say he’s a cat she’ll particularly miss but still, she can feel her blood boil in rage. They could not allow cats to keep being taken from them and this newest murder was nearly enough to send her over the edge. "Who did this?" she asks, her tone icy as she lifts her gaze to find the faces of the cats he had left on patrol with. She needed to know who it was.

Her sister called for her kits to join them and she nods in her own approval. Good to expose them to the evils of life sooner rather than later. In her mind a cat was never too young to learn this important lesson. No one is invincible, life is cruel. Better they know before they do something stupid.

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Bluekit knows there's a commotion outside the nursery. Cats are yowling. The air is thick with the rage of her older Clanmates. She even hears her father's voice, Firefang's, her older half-brother's -- and her desire to be involved consumes her. Still, she has not been given permission to exit the nursery, so she does not. Her fox-thick blue tail curls about tiny paws as she pouts and waits for something to happen.

"Children." It's Sootstar's voice, whiplike, beckoning. Bluekit peers outside, emerald eyes meeting her mother's. "I want you to see this. I want you to remember this forever."

Not one to disobey her leader, Bluekit pads dutifully toward Sootstar and the other cats. She's expecting something like a story about a trespasser -- some reason for everyone to be upset, but she's not expecting to lay eyes on Juniperfrost.

He's stiller than frost-gripped heather, unmovable in even the strongest of winds. The smell of his blood is repulsive, and Bluekit can't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust. The blood that has dried over his pelt and torn flesh has become almost maroon. It's not like the blood that floods her mouth when she bites into warm prey. It's not like that at all.

"You are looking at evil's ugly doings." Evil. Bluekit wants to get closer to Juniperfrost. She had seen him just yesterday, hadn't she? She wants to touch his body, see what it feels like. She's never seen a dead cat before, has never imagined this could be what it's like. "What about StarClan?" She asks in a small voice. "I thought we... went to StarClan when we died." She tries to keep the uncertainty out of her words.

She's hearing the word RiverClan passed throughout the throng of WindClan cats who gather around Juniperfrost's body. RiverClan. She knows about RiverClan. They are bad. But Sootstar has declared them evil.

She watches her mother skulk back to her den without a word of comfort, without any answers to her question. Bluekit stares after her, wondering if she should follow -- but something about the look on Sootstar's face tells her it's in her best interest to stay where she's at. "How can he be in StarClan if he's here?" This time she addresses every cat present, her voice softer, almost whispery.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[LAMBCURL.]

Gone again. Someone is gone again.

There are plans in store for the lot of them. Perhaps it is more than just that by now. Yowling faces, scrabbling claws. It's already set in motion, isn't it? Another and another, they continued to fall, but the pillars would not topple.

Their faces all burn, furious. Shivers follow the words they speak and the seeds they sow. Passion is power; viciousness prevails. It only makes them stronger, really. As long as it is not a key, as long as the structure will remain, with or without, it would be for a cause that is grand. It will only invigorate– never collapse. Oh, he had not known him well enough. It is an error, a mistake– He is only mortal, he knows. The forsight he lacks will come from those above him, his soul thrums along with the rest of them. Not in vain, friend. This death is a lesson; more than one in a bundle.

He is fragile, and so, his help is needed elsewhere. Not so much in the hunting; not in the gnash of teeth and swipe of claws... To Sootstar's little one, he crawls closer. They had been so similar, once. Both born into a world anew. He tries, he's trying, to be kindly, tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Forget sadness. Only circumstance. "Oh, no... It's the soul," he tells her, raspy whisper beneath the crowd. Low tones; the two of them together. "Isn't it terrible?" Only in appearance, is what he means; reduced to little more than flesh and fur, crooked and blood-caked. Less than appealing, how it flakes when it is dried. Though, it still seems to glisten where the wounds are deepest... "But you're renewed in the stars... Or so I've been told..."​

 

[Badgermoon]

Badgermoon's heart stuttered in his chest as he, yet again, caught the scent of cats'-blood. The black-and-white tom's initial reaction was one of disbelief: surely there had not been another death. Branchfall's body was still fresh in its grave, how could it be that there was another Clanmate to bury already? Yellow eyes sharp, he rose and strode swiftly toward the gathered cats, attempting to shoulder past to draw near to Wolfsong, Sunstride, and ... Juniperfrost, or the heap of blood and fur which had once housed the spirit of Juniperfrost, anyway. Around him, Badgermoon knew the typical tapestry of loss was playing out - outrage, sorrow, disbelief, bewilderment - but he had eyes only for the body of the warrior with whom he had not gotten along, but whose ferocity and loyalty he had come to respect. It was clear that something had happened, something which had involved RiverClan and ended up in Juniperfrost's death; the two lead warriors, however, seemed unharmed, so a patrol skirmish felt unlikely. So what had happened?

"Explain, please." said the deputy after a long moment of bitter held breath, exhaling hugely and lifting his gaze to find his Clanmates'.​

 

[SUNSTAR]

There is a swarm around them, already so affected, and Sootstar– Sootstar calls for her children. Something flickers across his eyes, a surprise that tasted strange on his tongue. He does not question it further, does not dare think on where it comes from when there is this between them. A crowd that surrounds them. Much has changed between them, yet still the tom's attention finds Wolfsong, unreadable gaze upon his wheaten, blood-stained fur if not his face. There is something his eyes try to say, and what it may be, he does not fully know.

The rallies of blood-song rise around them, and Sunstride steps forth to capture the attention of those who remain, to pull it away from the remains his paws nearly brush upon. Juniperfrost's blood smears burnished shoulders and stains down the pale white of his throat from where he had carried the limp body, but fire lights in pale eyes. They circle amongst Sootstar's council. To Tigerfrost, Badgermoon– ultimately, however, they fixate on Weaselclaw. Be it his place in WindClan and his closeness to the leader herself, or the history he knows that the tom carries, this information seems best suited for direct speech. In one bitter word, he confirms his worries: "Hyacinthbreath." Periwinklepaw had left the scene, and perhaps that is for the best. He can only imagine how it would have made the young feline flinch. In this moment, that is furthest from his mind.

"Wolfsong may tell the tale better than I, but I will say it before all of you," before the youth he will never meet, "Juniperfrost was a loyal warrior to his end. Though he spoke against this traitor, it was she who pulled him across the border to play the hero. He stood for WindClan, and for Sootstar, to his very end." Here he does find Badgermoon, where his eyes had first swept the crowd. She had left them to the decision, it would seem. It may be best to speak their thoughts further from the scene of this crime, yet he does not dare tell the tom as much.

﹥ˏˋ〘  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〙ˊˎ﹤

• ooc: —
• SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
  —— cis male, he - him. thirty-six moons old. lead warrior of windclan and former rogue.
  —— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests.  single, will be so.
  —— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.
  
  sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
• "speech"

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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 The collective anger of his clanmates washes over Wolfsong, quickening his heart to the pace of a hare on the moors. He licks his mouth and cringes when blood bursts across his tongue— Juniperfrost's blood. He seeks Sunstride's eyes despite the turmoil between them, and finds him staring back, but fails to be comforted by anything he sees there.

"It is true," he confirms after Sunstride has spoken, looking between Weaselclaw, Badgermoon, Sootstar's back, and Tigerfrost in particular. Spiderbloom's grief-driven fury is too bright to look upon, and he avoids Bluekit's presence. "At first, they kept to claw-words, but she was not content with insults." He exhales roughly. "There is no doubt in my heart that she will spin a tale of Juniperfrost's trespass. Hypocrites and cowards are all who live across the river— we know that much from the Gatherings." He refuses to think of Houndsnarl.
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[Spiderbloom]

Hyacinthbreath.
Lips curled into a vicious snarl, teeth bared and seeking blood. Claws gripping the ground with such intensity that they began to ache. Her head lifted, and her gaze set on the direction of the Riverclan border. Deep breaths were all that kept her from going insane, but they wouldnt be strong enough.

Hyacinthbreath.

A name. A face. The one who has broken her family before it could even start. The words of the others were nearly noise in her ears as she was losing herself to bloodlust. Her fur bristled as she pulled her claws from the dirt. Just in time it seemed, as she caught what Wolfsong said. His account of what happened sent her over the edge. She could not longer see straight through her grief and rage.

All she could think about was slaughter.

Paws moved on their own as if possessed. A nasty growl escaped her throat as she walked. Her eyes were set on the border, she moved with purpose and murderous intent. She was going to kill her. Drag her back to camp, let her be torn apart by all of Windclan. Let the crowd feast on her remains. Decorate her nest with her bones.

A sudden, sharp feeling of nausea brought her to a halt a few fox lengths away from the group. She shuddered and hunched over, expecting to be sick. Yet it never came, but it served to remind her of her condition.

She couldn't endanger her kits.

No matter how badly she wanted to rip and tear apart Hyacinthbreath, she couldn't.... She had to keep her kits safe. She swallowed hard as more tears fell down her cheeks. She let out an anguished yowl laced with frustration.

She crumpled to the ground and gripped the dirt once more, languishing in her grief that she couldn't fight, even if she wanted to.
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[Bluepool]

Hyacinthbreath. A traitor and now a murderer. She wants to run to RiverClan now and demand she be allowed to put her down then and there but she digs her claws into the dirt, steadying herself. Justice would be served, she’s sure the stars would be certain to make it so. Her pale yellow eyes fall upon her niece who looks after her sisters retreating form and she scowls. Sootstar should have stayed to hear the name of her loyal warriors murderer. No matter, someone would tell her later.

"Dont fret Spiderbloom" she says, crouching to speak gently in the mollys ear "She’ll pay for this, she will. If I ever see her again I’ll make sure of it myself" her words are punctuated by a growl before she turns to her niece, tail whipping furiously behind her "And you, Bluekit, remember the name Hyacinthbreath. She did this. She took our clanmate away from us" Lambcurl answers Bluekits other questions so Bluepool turns her head to the sky "StarClan let her punishment be swift and take care of our clanmate" she prays, the last part almost an afterthought.

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[Addervenom]

Life doesn't discriminate

The commotion happening outside the nursery gathers his attention, beckoning him forward as controlled chaos erupts within the camp. Bodies are huddled around a certain focal point, voices filled with anger and dripping with hatred as they shout with righteous fury. Adderkit stretches up high on his back legs, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever the older warriors and his mother's council are fussing over. Unable to sneak a peek, the boy's flaxen paws come back down with a soft audible thump beside Bluekit, expression serious from the thickening tension now surrounding the once peaceful atmosphere. Sootstar, however, prompts them all forward and a flicker of gratitude blooms within his chest. He found pride in being able to take part in whatever she wished to show them rather than be shooed away like children.

Quietly he lopes in behind his sister, near vermillion eyes finally raking over the battered and hardly recognizable figure of Juniperfrost. Adderkit's stride slows to a halt, gaze never wavering from the mangled warrior. He didn't know much about the warrior outside of his prime example as a loyal member. Crimson soaks the ground at his paws while the stench of blood looms like a heavy perfume. Who'd done this to him? The word riverclan is tossed about and it sparks a memory for the young prince. A tale spun by Weaselclaw during their first trip outside of the protective walls of camp to explore golden hills. "Riverclan," He hisses, voice dripping with malice as Sootstar declares the group evil. And he fully agrees that they are evil indeed.

They seemed to do nothing but take. First, a portion of his father's ear and now a warrior's life. "I'll kill those fox hearted monsters myself." A declaration and promise spoken that he vowed to complete in due time. It should have been Hyacinthbreath dead within the camp of riverclan, not Juniperfrost and yet here the tom lie. A strong sense of conviction washes over him then as he grits his teeth. Only the strong live to see another day and it was clear to him that this warrior was not strong enough in the end. The viewing of this body has taught him something fundamental today.

"This is what happens when you lose." Adderkit mutters in a low tone to Harrierkit, dredging up his brother's words spoken during the tug of war with Whitekit. Losing was a sign of weakness he refused to wear across his shoulders. Thus, seeing the destroyed remains of the blue tinged warrior further pushed his need to win and excel in everything he did. If only to ensure he never ended up like Juniperfrost. "What strength did Juniperfrost gain from losing to Hyacinthbreath?" Adderkit asks rhetorically, tossing his brother's words of wisdom back at him. "If that's the outcome of your advice, keep it. I don't want it." Dark eyes tear from the body to rest upon Harrierkit before looking to Sootstar's council, speaking up at a level that can be heard by all again. "Will windclan go to war with riverclan?" Lowering himself into a seated position between Sunstride and Weaselclaw. ​

Between the sinners and the saints​

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[TIGERFROST]

Tags and Information

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The crowd grows larger as the members of WindClan leave their hollow to see the body for themselves. News spread like wildfire, it seemed. Sootstar herself, an expected face among the surrounding cats, calls her own kits out of the clearing to see the gruesome brutality of this grim scene. Tigerfrost is no parent, knows not how to raise such youth. If Sootstar wished to expose her kits to the blood and death, then so be it. But he expects more, of course. They all do. Her name rests upon his tongue as she turns to stride away, to leave the remnants of Juniperfrost, and her surrounding council, to their own devices. Was the scene too much for the leader of WindClan to bear? He does not know, but he can't help the thorn of irritation that pricks at his heart. Now was not the time to sulk. No, that could come later. After Juniperfrost was avenged.

Finally, Sunstride and Wolfsong launch into their explanation, and it freezes the blood in the chimera's veins, frosts his heart with a wintry chill. A murder, blatant as it was. Not even a border skirmish. No, Juniperfrost had done nothing wrong, had been dragged over the border like prey and butchered without any remorse. This was intentional, it was malicious and calculated. Tigerfrost's eyes burn with icy fury, hell-fire that flickers with boiling wrath. Hyacinthbreath, the traitor, vermin like the worms beneath his paws. Had WindClan not suffered enough? What more must they endure from these treacherous rats? Who would die next? Would Dandelionwish return with a group of bloodthirsty rogues? Would Coldsnap assassinate a lone Warrior on a hunting patrol? There were far too many possibilities, all of which left a sour taste in his mouth. But... he doesn't know where the other exiles have nested. He does know, however, that the one responsible for this shelters within RiverClan.

Did Cicadastar know that he harbored such a gruesome killer? Tigerfrost supposes that it doesn't matter. The RiverClan leader was probably pleased by the murder. He had been so quick to run to SkyClan's aid, after all. Clearly he despised every ounce of WindClan's existence, scorned the very stars, in fact, who had placed Sootstar and her clan here. His blazing eyes land upon Spiderbloom, where she gripped the earth with uncontained grief. The kits that warmed her belly would grow up without a father. She would go on without a mate. A family... torn apart as if by vile dogs. It only fuels the fire that burns within his spirit, a desire for swift and bloody retribution. As Adderkit's inquiry rings through the group, bold as he is in his youh, the thought of war is now burning at the fore-front of his knotted mind. Though war should always be a last resort, Tigerfrost believes that in cases such as these, bloodshed is the only answer.

Cicadastar was unlikely to listen to reason. Was unlikely to even find fault in his bitter warrior. Blazing eyes shift across the assembled WindClanners, flickering over the Lead Warriors, lingering briefly upon the deputy himself, before falling back toward Adderkit with a firmness.

"Will WindClan go to war with RiverClan?" The question echoes through the tabby's mind.

"I see no other option." Vocals like thunder in a frigid snow-storm, he spits fire from his snapping jaws. "A member of RiverClan has brutally murdered Juniperfrost. He was a loyal warrior, as much as any of us could hope to be. Does anyone here really think that Cicadastar will hand her over for punishment? Would that even be enough? He took her in, knowing who and what she was to WindClan. Now, he knowingly harbors a murderer." One that had so violently killed one of WindClan's strongest warriors, not in a border dispute, or a skirmish over prey, but out of malice alone. Had dragged him onto RiverClan's side of the border for the sole purpose of butchering him. Tigerfrost's eyes shift back toward Badgermoon. With Sootstar now gone from the scene, he was the one remaining with most of the authority.

"RiverClan must bleed for this." Tigerfrost presses, urging the deputy to affirm the call for war.​