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


Wolfsong had called him over and so he would arrive at a scene full of gore and death. A clanmate taken from them by the fish eating cats themselves. Juniperfrost a tom he had never liked so felt absolutely nothing over his death. He was sure they had looked down on him too, thinking he was less then all of them so he felt no loss over thier death. Didn't meant he not cared about the damage riverclan had done or him not being furious over this crime that had got commited on what had supposed to be a harmless border patrol. Juniperfrost had still been a clanmate, a windclanner, a loyal one at that.

Vulturemask made himself over to Juniperfrosts body while his clanmates all around let their rage out wanting blood and war for this. He would lower himself down so he could touch the forehead of the murdered warrior. " May you find your way to the stars and for eternity hunt with our ancestors." he would mumble as he send their fallen warriors soul to starclan. They would be this one judge now if he would be worthy to hunt with them or not.

Standing back up to his full size the medicine cat flinked a ear, but his eyes soon went cold when hearing the name of the cat who had murdered their clanmate. Hyacinthbreath. Aha, he knew this day would come sooner or later so he was not suprised only mortified. Because it turned out the cats he had looked up to or hanged around with as an apprentice all had turned out to be traitors and now a threat, a parasite who was waiting to destroy the home had he built here. That alone made this bitterness infest him further.

" Anyone who wanna mourn him has until sunrise tomorrow." he spoke through the crowd of hisses and snarls. His voice is empty of emotions. Vulturemask then turned himself around to leave and return back to his den. " I'll leave the decision on what to do about this to the rest of the council." he would say over his shoulder knowing his opinion wouldn't matter to them anyway. He was just a medicine cat after all who should stick to his herbs. So he would do just that.

Instead he would focus on checking up on Periwinklepaw who he had seen escape into the medicine cat den. He felt for them to have a such selfish mother like Hyacinthbreath who would do something like this knowing fully well how it would effect his son. It was cruel. Like Periwinklepaw not already had a tough life here in this clan for his mothers decision. Looked like Vulturemask once again had to clean up after that mollys own mess to be there for the son she had so easily abandoned and now left with even more scars. Tch.

/ out!


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❪ TAGS ❫ — Juniperfrost was not a man that Snakepaw knew well, but one he has always respected and revered for his strength and loyalty to the clan. He reminded him of his own father in some ways. So, when the news of the warrior's death befalls the camp, Snakepaw is utterly astonished and keeps silent for a long while, his green stare boring into the slaughtered form of Juniperfrost.

Sootstar had said next to nothing before retreating to her den, likely feeling a horde of emotions herself and likely needing some time to herself. However, as the initial shock began to wear off, murmurs begin to brew within the camp. What to do next.

Narrowed green eyes watch as Sootstar's son, Adderkit, stalks up to where the Lead Warriors are discussing and plops down right amongst them, as if it's his birthright to do so. If that little brat was able to get an automatic say in Sootstar's council, then Snakepaw should be able to speak his mind, too.

Not quite breaking into the space of the Lead Warriors but stepping forth and puffing his chest out as much as he could, Snakepaw boldly proclaims, "I say we should go to war with RiverClan." His opinion is but a droplet in an ocean, but if his words help in persuading the high ranks to start shifting the clan into war mode, then he'd do anything he could. Was Shadowsight and Rosepool watching? Could his parents see him, hear him speaking? He hoped so. "SkyClan—those kittypets—killed one of our warriors. Now those fish-eaters have done the same!" Snakepaw wanted to see those fish faces suffer, cower in fear for what they'd done. These clans obviously possessed no respect for WindClan, so they didn't need to owe them any respect in return. "We can't let them get away with this. We're WindClan, for StarClan's sake; the strongest clan of all." And he truly, wholeheartedly believes it.​
 
The tension rose with every breath, and Badgermoon listened intently as the two toms relayed their stories - truly, one singular story, jointly told (wasn't that just the way for these two?) - golden eyes on a tripartite journey from Sunstride, to Wolfsong, to Juniperfrost, and back again. At last he nodded, listening to conversation bubble around him, increasingly blood-hungry: and could he blame them, could he blame any of them? Surely not. Surely he felt that blood-hunger, too, perhaps more often than he liked to admit. At this moment, the gaping maw that tended to open itself in his gut and howl in hate-thirst was silent. Waiting. Preparing?

"Alright. That's enough. Thank you all." he spoke again after Snakepaw, his voice even but firm. "First of all, I remind us that someone will need to fetch a rock from the Moonstone for Juniperfrost's burial." he raised his voice slightly, hoping to be heard over the crowd, white-tipped ears twitching as the calls for war faded into quiet. "I promise you all that RiverClan will not get away with this." he nodded to his apprentice, to Tigerfrost, to Spiderbloom - to everyone whose blood now roiled with fury. "The lead warriors and I will discuss this in private, to determine what the next step to take will be." his face darkened and his brows knit together, transforming his countenance into one of contemplative outrage. "But no matter what we decide to do, we will not take this lying down: RiverClan blood will be shed, one way or another."

Badgermoon waited for a moment for anyone to voice a question or comment before nodding and flicking his tail, indicating that the lead warriors should join him for a more private discussion. With a last look at Juniperfrost's body, he turned and strode away, feeling as if something foul and heavy was now wrapped around his scarred chest.

( out! discussion thread here <3 )​
 
Cottonkit had been outside of the nursery when the noise erupted from just beyond the camp's boundaries - their for the time being caretaker had rounded her and the other kittens into the safety of the bramble covered cavern, but little could be done to satiate the kitten's curiosity. Like her brother, she stands at the precipice of their limits, attempting to spy at what could be happening. Some words are too hushed for her to capture, whilst others are incredibly entangled with wailing that she can't even pull apart their meanings.

Some cats leave. Some look away, nauseous, but remain stubbornly. Sootstar approaches and the grey kitten waits eagerly - and yet, when beckoned closer, she hesitates. Bluekit and Adderkit are quicker than she, Harrierkit and Moorkit surely tossed in there too. But she hesitates. She prepares to feel anguish, fear, frustration, anger - more, even! She prepares to feel everything that the crowd is feeling, because surely, surely, all that her mother says is for a reason.

Evil drips like venom from her mother's tongue, deigning the already awful RiverClan to a worse fate. Never forget, Sootstar demands of them, and silently does Cottonkit reply, 'We won't.' It's only then does she finally press through the wavering crowd, only then does she finally get to see the corpse before them. Juniperfrost - aforementioned brave, loyal, ruthless. A warrior that would've been a worthy mentor to either her brothers or Moorkit, a warrior comparable to even that of Tigerfrost, Sunstride, Wolfsong -

A warrior, who's blood stains the ground. Who's body is mangled worse than the first time she tried to defeather a robin. Who's pride and livelihood amounts to nothing more than emptiness in a blueish husk.

She doesn't understand why others look as if they must vomit at the sight. It's disappointing. Juniperfrost had been so grand, so magnificent - yet the only thing that makes her ill with the sight of him is simply how nothing he becomes in death. Bluekit asks about StarClan and Adderkit demands bloodshed, something that Badgermoon assures them all will happen in due time. The deputy silences the discussion before they can get rowdy, before the name Hyacinthbreath becomes nothing more than an insult.

Vulturemask had departed already, though the spot where he touched is still pressed down, matted with the deceased's own blood and the tears of others. Mourning is brought up as an option, until they bury him like they did Branchfall, and Sunsetbreeze before that (though she was yet to be at that time.) But what's the point? If his soul is already hunting with the best, and his body is just clumped up fur and muscle, then why should they sit and cry? Cottonkit pulls closer to the corpse, ignoring the blatant gore that's become of most of it. She trespasses the parts of his body already deigned alright to experience. A soft white paw presses against blue fur, and she can feel the cold in his body. Even his blood is no more warm than the slushed snow left behind by the roughness of leafbare.

Redness dyes her curious paw as she pulls it away from Juniperfrost - from the corpse. She glances at it, inspects it, before looking back at the body with equal boredom and inquisitiveness. "Hunt forever in the stars, Juniperfrost," she says quietly. A part of her feels she must, as a daughter of a queen she has some rights to who is accepted into StarClan and who isn't (right? Is that how it works?) However the rest of her feels instead that her voice is misused in the grand scheme of things, and saying something peaceful is better than her normal barrage of questions - though they hide just beneath her tongue.

She steps away from the corpse, moving to stand in beside Bluekit for a moment. She taps her shoulder against her sister's, "Let's pick a feather for him," Cottonkit suggests, though the concept of gifting a dead body something pretty doesn't exactly fit well with her. "Maybe he can give it to someone in StarClan, next," her peppier tone peaks out for a second, though confusion and mild frustration still bog it down enough.​
 

.°☀ AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG

Sunflowerpaw perks up when they notice their mentor out of the corner of their eye, only for a heavy feeling to settle itself in the hollow of their ribcage. Something is wrong. His pelt is blood-flecked, more-so than fresh-kill should warrant. Their is an urgency to his pace, a sadness to his eyes. He is heading towards the medicine cat's den.

When Vulturemask and Wolfsong emerge, headed in the same direction, only then does Sunflowerpaw move. They are not the first to leave for -- wherever it is they are going, yet Sunflowerpaw feels more comfortable accompanying the two. They feel safer, trailing behind the two. There is a grim certainty to the apprentice, regarding what they are about to see. A few days prior they witnessed a rogue, still as the rabbits they eat, lying in a pool of her own blood. Death. The specter spoken in whispers, prowling the moor but never showing its face to the young apprentice. They hope, selfishly, that it will be the face of a stranger they next see lying upon the moor-grass.

It is.

Yet it is not much of a face at all, that they find upon their arrival, caked in gore, skull caved in. It puts the rogue to shame, neck bitten like a prey animal. At least her face was still recognizable. Juniperfrost, the gathered voices say. It sounds vaguely familiar. Yet it is hard to reconcile the bloodied sight before them as a cat, as a WindClanner, as someone they may have interacted with, someone they could have known. Vulturemask moves forward, touches nose to bloody forehead, bids him find his way to he stars. He must be on his way already; certainly, there is no one left in this mangled corpse.

Sunflowerpaw tries to still their shaking. They need to be strong, they're going to be a warrior, they need to -- they need to --

Vulturemask leaves. There is blood splattered across across Wolfsong's fur.

They will not let their imagination run wild. This world is far crueler than they could have imagined, but they will just have to adjust. They will never let something like this happen to someone they love, so it will not do them well to imagine it. They don't know what they'd do if they lost someone like this.

They need to focus on what's here, now.

Sunflowerpaw moves in slowly, mimics Vulturemask's motion, nose touched to the dead tom's forehead. They are dimly aware of Cottonkit near them, yet they close their eyes, focusing for a moment. Is there anything left of the cat that once lived in this body, or has he left already? They hope he has. Silently, they ask he leave behind this wretched scene. Do not linger, they silently plead. Go now, to the stars. It would be a crueler fate to remain amid the grief and gore.

Finally, they draw back, averting their eyes. It feels disrespectful, to look upon him. Disrespectful, that they will remember this warrior as a brutalized corpse and not as the cat he once was.

Cottonkit speaks of finding him a feather, for him to take to StarClan. Yes, that sounds good, sounds proper. They look to the kits inquisitively. Perhaps they could help, in this endeavor?

IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME .°☀

⟪ OOC ⟫ ⟪ INFO ⟫ ⟪ REF ⟫
  • //​
  • SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
    — they/them, 4 moons. semiverbal.
    — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
    — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most.

    primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
  • Untitled61_20221226063745.png
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The warrior is unfamiliar to Sparrowkit, but the scene isn't.

A form unmoving, the smell of blood and the unknown emitting from it. She should know this smell by now, shouldn't she? The only true danger she knows of? But, it doesn't. It doesn't smell the same as when it washed over her barn, doesn't bring the image of canid fangs to the forefront of her mind as it should.

No, this was a new danger. A... Hyacinthbreath, as she overhears. A RiverClan.

She does not know what either is - she's still learning her way through what WindClan is, through the StarClan they worship. But, the scene still leaves her paws frozen to the ground, her eyes wide in terror at the sight.

This place. This place, this place. She was told she'd be safe here, promised. How can she be, when those meant to be part of WindClan's strongest had died at the strike of a Hyacinthbreath?

As the leader's children are urged forward, the outlier only feels like cowering back, like running away to find a new source of safety.

Blood. So much blood. Sparrowkit just wants her Ma.

She remembers Sunstride's words to her, of how brave a kit she must be. And... And she doesn't feel it under the horror that fills her. But, she too soon finds the ice melting from her paws, finds herself stepping forward, yellow-orange gaze searching for a glimpse of the unknown she'd ran from - of similarities in fate she never got to truly see.

Did Ma look as scary as this warrior, this... Juniperfrost, does now? Did Pa?

Did Kestrel?

As she nears, she can hear the leader's kits speaking - their chatter only giving her more information on StarClan. Was her family up there too? Safe from their demise? Were they happy, where ever they were?

She isn't sure, really, what to feel about this cat's death apart from the fright it'd given her, the reminder it brought up. She does not know of how well of a warrior he was - if he was of the best or not. But, if Juniperfrost had been brought such a fate in a world where it's meant to be safe, she can only hope he'd put up a fight against the Hyacinthbreath that attacked him.

And the WindClanners, they speak to him as if he's living still. As if he can hear them. Maybe he could, in StarClan.

"I'm... Sorry you died," she quietly offers to the unmoving body with words nowhere near as eloquent as those that speak before her, "I... I hope you're happy in StarClan."

One of the other kits - Cottonkit - suggests finding a feather for Juniperfrost to one of her siblings. Sparrowkit hesitates before pulling her gaze away from the slain warrior to look over at her denmates instead. "I... I can help, if you want... Maybe... Maybe we can find a big pretty one for him."

She does not know where to even find such a thing around here, but can only hope her offer is accepted - a chance to distract her mind, to erase the scene before her.
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When called fort with the rest of his siblings he takes a long look at the body. Rather than grossed out or frightened he’s intrigued. Part of him wants to walk up to it and smack Juniperfrost in the cold face, surely he’d have to come back to life then? How could someone not react to getting smacked? Bluekit is confused, he near scoffs and exclaims how would any of them know if she of all cats didn’t? If Bluekit was anything she was a know-it-all, Harrierkit believes.

His brother however is telling Harrierkit he’s wrong, it makes it difficult to hear Lambcurl’s explanation on souls and StarClan. The earthy kit growls, ”This is different, hare-brain.” Couldn’t Adderkit see that?! Still he doesn’t argue further though its mostly because his brother stalks off to sit by the council, Harrierkit rolls his eyes. Eyes move to rest on Juniperfrost again, he allows the image to soak into his head and for the hatred of RiverClan to fester and burn.​
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( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​
╰ 🪶 ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· SOOTSTAR, male — he / him
╰ ‣ 2 moons . pisces. ages on the 14th
╰ ‣ windclan kit . believes in starclan

╰ 🪶 ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells of the earth and dry grass , status — 100%
╰ ‣ blue and brown chimera . average sized WindClanner . yellow eyes

╰ 🪶 ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Chaotic neutral
╰ ‣ self-reliant, loyal, disciplined, direct, impatient, unsympathetic, judge mental
╰ ‣ finds moderate difficulty in relating to others . can be cruel, but typically displays mercy

╰ 🪶 ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· WEASELCLAW x SOOTSTAR, sister to Windstrider, Sootchaser, Moorkit, Adderkit, Bluekit & Cottonkit
╰ ‣ nephew to Mintshade & Bluepool
╰ ‣ sexuality unknown
╰ ‣ apprentice to TBD
╰ ‣ poor fighter . poor hunter .
╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.​
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He was not one of Sootstar's kits but the call had been for kittens in general so he cheerfully followed along behind them all to see what it was to witness and he regretted it. Feigning sleep would have served him well here, settling in the warmth of the nursery and not moving through cold tall grass to witness the depravity of cat kind. This was not a body but a corpse, mutilitated and bloodied; he could not make out the tom's once sharp features given how horrifically mangled his face was by something. Petalkit shuddered where he sat just behind the other kits, watching them offer respects and ask questions and all he can think about was how cold his mother was when the coughing sickness took her away. Life was not eternal, peace was fleeting. He wondered if his end would one day be as gruesome or would he be spared and go with the ease of age. One day on the battlefield will a cat look upon him and rend him to pieces such as this? Cruelly shred apart a body that needed only a few wounds to kill? It was excessive. Horrific. They had killed rabbits here with more mercy than was given this clanmate who was pulled into a conflict. The RiverClan cats were truly terrifying then. He could not imagine the kind of brutality one would need to accomplish this feat.
Petalkit slunk further to the side, tucked himself behind the other taller kittens and present apprentices and shrunk down to the ground to appear smaller. Could they go now? They had seen it and Badgermoon was taking the other authority figures away to discuss what to do. Surely that meant he was allowed to go back to his safe nest rather than linger here? But he was too afraid to be scolded to move without permission.
​
 


The stalwart tone of her mother is but a whisper amidst the hubbub outside of the nursery. Moorkit can hear her regardless, as any kit would, and straightaway could she identify something was wrong. No maternal poise could be discerned from Sootstar's words—only a simmering ire, which strangely enough didn't seem to be directed at her (or any of her littermates for that matter).

Bewildered, and maybe a tad scared, Moorkit pokes her pointy nose from the gorse bush's brambles. Adderkit and Bluekit push past her, followed by wee Cottonkit. Harrierkit also hobbles into the fray, ever so bitter, outwardly unaffected by whatever sight their mother wanted them to observe. A lot of the grown-ups looked to be frightened, or even sick; but seeing her youngest brother unfazed by it all, it quells the nervousness in her gut and ultimately draws her out into camp.

Within moments, the little girl regrets stepping foot from the nursery.

It's difficult to describe the immense terror which overwhelmed Moorkit in that moment. She's unable to comprehend what she sees, and this lack of understanding only exacerbates her distress. Juniperfrost is stiff and bloodied like a piece of fresh-kill, his skin torn apart in horrible ways, a catatonic expression contorting his lifeless face. It hadn't occurred to the wee kit that such a brutal fate could befall a cat, and she can only envision herself in the dead warrior's position.

This is far too much to wrap her mind around.

If not for the knot that had engorged in her tight throat, the ensuant sobs of the she-kit would have been audible to all present. Instead, they resemble dry heaves, or perhaps violent gags.​

 
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