camp bigmouth strikes again // begging

[juncoclaw]

The sun blinds Junco as she pokes her head out from her little prisoner hole. A cramped up burrow near the edge of camp that the leader himself struggled to fit into. Outside stands her guard - a cat that rotates frequently, but none of them are nearly as forgiving as Cottonsprig.

Junco clears her throat. Adjusts her position, so that her chin is resting on her front paws. Pouts her lip. Looks up, ever so slightly, with big wide eyes - if she tried harder, if she cared any more, she could shed a tear. Like a sad little puppy dog, the prisoner regards her guard with a sorrowful, pleading stare. "Excuse me," she speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, fabricated to perfection. The guard looks at her, and Junco bats her eyes. With a touch of charm and just enough desperation to make her almost believable, the tabby continues. "I would like to be out please. I would like to stretch my legs. Pretty please?" And then, to top off her blues, she gives the guard a saccharine smile.

But.. they ignore her. The guard looks away almost as soon as Junco finishes, wearing the same boring expression. Not budging an inch.

In a near instant, the molly's expression changes. Her mouth droops into a scowl and her half-blind gaze hardens. The only thing that remains is her pout. The molly tilts her head on her paw, one way and then the other as she ponders. Two weeks in this stupid burrow - this absolute shithole. Her muscles ached to run - not away, but just.. to feel the wind in her fur. Her appetite has decreased with nothing to work it up with, and sleep was restless with all this pent up energy.

Stars, Junco is so.. frustrated! She feels like she could scream and thrash, like a kitten throwing a temper tantrum. Milk and green eyes scan the camp past the guard, catching a glimpse of a passerby. Her voice raises again, but not nearly as sugared as before. "Excuse me!" she repeats in a call, garnering their attention. "I want to take a walk. Come on - just you and me. We don't even have to leave camp - listen, you can pick the spot, I promise! Ask - ask Sunstar if you need to, whatever, just - " a heavy sound leaves her maw, a mix of a growl and an exhausted sigh. "I want.. to take.. a walk. Is that so much?"


// anyone can play the guard or the cat(s) she's grabbing the attention of :) just to note i dont know if sunstar would let her out so it'll have to be decided icly if she's let out for a bit or not!! ic consequences may apply if she is let out without sunstar's permission <3
​

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

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

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── It is difficult to miss the displeasure of his unwilling patient, but after living with and attending for so many difficult personalities throughout his time in WindClan, Wolfsong has developed a skill for tuning it out. Those that guard the den have no doubt done the same; as he passes them by on his way inside, their statuesque avoidance of acknowledging Juncoclaw's pleas is to be commended. Wolfsong gives them an approving nod, half of his mouth twitching upward in a wry, brief smile. It would not do to have a pliable or easily agitated guard, after all.

"It would be remiss of a medicine cat to ignore a patient's health," he says, unwinding cobwebs from his foreleg to join them with the rest in storage. He glances at her as he works. "And it has declined, though due to no injury. A walk would do you good; the sedentary life is unbefitting any warrior." Wolfsong frees himself of the sticky wad of webbing, and he does not look away from her as he says to the warrior standing guard, "Please do request my mate's presence, if you would. I can watch her in the meantime."
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 46 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

➴➴ The prisoner who resides in WindClan’s camp should have been killed at the first chance they got. Gravelsnap does not understand why Sunstar chose to spare Juncoclaw’s life—perhaps it is pity—but they will not question their leader’s judgment. They will not. Not even as the she-cat’s voice grates irritatingly against their ears and digs into their head like a set of sharp claws. They turn their head, ignoring her as best they can. They do not pay her any of the attention that she asks for, her Pretty please falling upon entirely deaf ears. They do not speak at all, until at last her horrible voice becomes too much to bear. "No." Their statement is firm, a negative response to a cat who has earned none of their pity.

Their torture is ended, thankfully, by Wolfsong’s approach, and the black-patched warrior gives the healer a nod as he strides closer. However, his words to the prisoner strike them as distinctly wrong. Any warrior, he says, as though this terrible cat is any dirty of respectable WindClanner. She had run off with Granitepelt, a traitor along with the rest of them. She had made her choice. She should not be allowed to walk back her decision, to make peace with the clan she had abandoned.

"She should not be allowed to leave." Their protest is genuine and stony-voiced. The medicine cat may have been a warrior once, but he is still a medicine cat. They do not trust his ability to safely defend WindClan from this rogue. But still he ranks above them, just as Peri and Slateheart do—with a heavy sigh, the warrior turns and stalks off, eel-black tail whipping behind them. So be it. If he loses another eye because of his choice, then he can fix it himself. They make their way to the leader’s den, seeking out the rosetted tom. "Sunstar. Wolfsong wants to release the prisoner."

➼ maybe i’ve done enough

• ooc: trying to fetch @SUNSTAR
• 
  GRAVELSNAP ❯❯ they/he, moor runner of windclan
  ⭃ average-sized black and white warrior who seems smaller than he is. speaks rarely and quietly.
  ⭃ mate to periwinklebreeze ; sibling to slateheart
  ⭃ mentoring sheeppaw ; formerly mentored thriftfeather
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ⭃ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Scorchstorm, like Gravelsnap, does not understand Sunstar's decision to spare Juncoclaw. Despite knowing the girl through kithood (for Junco was only a hair younger than herself), she cannot look past the silver-furred molly's allegiance to Sootstar; cannot look past the ferocity with which she had battled in DuskClan's ranks, all those moons ago. She is as grating and animated as she always has been, somehow, and for that Scorchstorm tallies another resentment against her. She's too proud to even wallow in her own imprisonment. It grates her nerves.

Gravelsnap is in charge of her today, it seems, and they snuff any hopes Juncoclaw has about exploring the moors. At least, for a minute — it is not long before Wolfsong comes to the girl's rescue. Is it cruel that Scorchstorm cannot look upon her former denmate with anything except disdain? She and Juncoclaw had never been close, but they had grown up together until Scorchstorm had left for the journey. How was it that so much could change in a few moons? How was it that Rumblerain had smiled at her before she'd trekked through the mountains, and abandoned her afterwards?

She thinks much like Gravelsnap does in the moment, her oft-stoic expression flickering into a hard-lipped frown. She offers Wolfsong a look of naked doubt, though she would never speak against his word. She respects him greatly, she just... doesn't quite understand. So what if Juncoclaw wasted away beneath the gorse boughs! The whole of DuskClan could rot, for all she cared (though of course she omits one of them from this wish; of course she conveniently forgets the way Juncoclaw had attacked a DuskClanner herself). But her dual-gold gaze soon slips to the prisoner herself, tall, white-tipped ears angled severely towards her. "You're lucky Wolfsong is kind," she rumbles. Her voice is the sound of spitting coals. She waits for Sunstar's call, as she always does.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌 ✧

• ooc.
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 15 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

• 

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ The thought of a prisoner startles the warrior for a moment. He cannot recall having any of those — and then Junco slots back into place where she had been, no a part of this clan or its enemy any longer, but something stuck in between. A prisoner. Had he ever thought of her as such before? He cannot say that Wolfsong's desire to free her, as Gravelsnap says, is an unwelcome one. It is tiresome to think of her and all that has led them to this moment. It is. . . unpleasant, to see the cat that had once been his clanmate now suffering in her foolishness. However he had tried to help all of them, it seems that villainy could be both taught and, at least in his hopes, unlearned. The only decision left is as to whether or not she has earned her release. It would be good to have this taken from his paws.

"Release, you say," he huffs, but follows nonetheless. When he looks between Junco and Wolfsong, it is with his own brand of doubt. Something that nearly mimics his previous apprentice's expression. (She had to learn it from somewhere, he might suppose.)

His muzzle briefly pressed into his mate's cheek fur (had it ever been worth it, to deny himself this? in whatever rage, pain, grief that he wallowed– this would have been a comfort at any time), the burnished tom sighs, "You know that I would trust your judgment in this as in all things." Better to give him reign over this cat. A burden shared, if not with the clan then with at least one other. Still, his eyes fall upon the young molly. He knows of her restlessness and the pain of confinement. It briefly makes him think of those cats in the badger sett who had wasted away with sickness. Except she is healthy. The only suffering here is now what he had inflicted upon her. A small distance away from Wolfsong's face and therefore louder, "What are you asking of me?"

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞06.17⌝ 🟒ᨒ

• 

  ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. —
  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

• 
  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 boxy 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.
  
  
  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 much to prove.

• "speech"

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

A silvered pelt brushes against Scorchstorm's dappled one, flicks her tail in greeting in Gravelsnap's direction. The subject of WindClan's DuskClan prisoner is a sore one, indeed — though Wolfsong has neared her and given her space to stretch her cramping limbs, the warriors' eyes blaze with judgmental fire. Sunstar's own voice is commanding, searing the air: "What is it you ask of me?"

Bluefrost glances toward Scorchstorm, searches for the golden depths of her eyes.

"A chance," the other she-cat had said. And she searches herself now, wondering if Juncoclaw, indeed, deserves the same thing.

"So why is it you raised your claws to your Clanmates? You abandoned WindClan readily enough before." Her voice is flat, cool as leafbare riverwater. Her green gaze fixes upon the tabby's pale coat, searching for some indication that she has changed — that there is even a possibility for such.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[juncoclaw]

At last, somebody understands her needs. If the warrior guarding her, Gravelsnap, could see her face after what Wolfsong said - they'd see a bitter smirk befitting that of a spiteful kit. You were one of us too, coward. she thinks, indignantly. Do not forget.

But the victory for the prisoner is short-lived, as they still have to ask Sunstar. "Thank you," she mews courteously; polite, even if faux, but with an edge. There is a hint of an old satisfaction upon realizing these cats are scared of her, that she may attack if given the chance. If she were half the cat they knew she was, she'd grasp that power in her claws and play them around like dolls. But, then, a ripple of melancholy courses through her as it did so often these days. She is not a changed cat in entirety, no - there are still semblances to her apprenticehood self that comes out in petty responses and a manipulative way of requests - but she had long since sworn off DuskClan, and Sootstar proved insignificant to her after death. In a constant state of limbo between old and new eras, she decides she cannot fault these cats for distrusting her - but she can still hope.

She grimaces at the sight of Sunstar, wearing the same doubtful expression as everyone else. It's pitifully ironic, how wary they are of a single half-sighted cat, but yet how easily DuskClan broke through their defenses. Maybe they've simply learned their lesson. "Just a walk," she repeats to Sunstar. With a defeated sigh, she adds, "I'll come right back if that's what you wish. Whatever." What's another, I don't know, season of being in this burrow, anyway? She does not wish to regret her choices.. but they still fall bitter upon her tongue like poison.

Bluefrost speaks to her now, and Junco's expression hardens. Turn-tail daughter of Sootstar, like Cottonsprig; she used to be equally as envious as her status as she was the medicine cat. But . . she has a point, Junco supposes. Not all cats know about her residence in Horseplace; just Cottonsprig and Sunstar, it seems. So, Junco will enlighten them. "Clanmates," she scoffs disdainfully. She'd never see herself under the lead of a ShadowClanner. "They were playing a fool's game. Not worth my starvation. I abandoned Granitepelt, too."

"I lived in Horseplace for some moons. It. . never felt right, being Clanless. But I never considered going back, not for a second." It's hard to put her thoughts into words. There is, admittedly, too much thought that she'd expend the energy to explain. Her loss of faith in Sootstar, her longing to feel the wind in the fur, her elusive meetings with Cottonsprig.

She doesn't quite know what drove her back to WindClan, either. But, one thing she knows for certain. Junco's expression hardens to something cold and distant, as if remembering something deeply unpleasant. "I've grown close to the Horseplace cats. Some of them became my friends. Then, DuskClan.. they took one of our kittens . . killed her mother. I would have raised my claws to DuskClan, whether it was in this camp or across the forest." Junco thinks of the little shadow peering out at her, summoning the strength to ask about the mysterious silver molly. Annoyed by the presence at first, but how fond she grew of the little scrap with time. Her heart aches for Harvest now, wondering if she ever escaped DuskClan's grasp.

"I saw them coming. I wanted to warn you, but.. as we know now, I saw too late." Junco will not mention that it was her back-and-forth internal argument that costed WindClan the life of one of their beloved queens, and a life of Sunstar. If she had made her decision, if she were a strand of hair quicker - perhaps things would be much different. WindClan does not need to know.

Junco sighs, and rests her chin on her paws. The explanation was thorough and steady, like storytelling, enough to make herself impatient by her own doing. "Anything else?" she mumbles haphazardly, giving Bluefrost a heavy stare, then flicking the annoyed look over to Sunstar.


// sorry this is not my best writing, i'm having a rly hard time getting her personality and thoughts into words in this post ;;
​

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

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

 

[SOOTSPOT]

When the chimera considered his circumstances, he could not help but blame cats like Junco, whom had had a golden opportunity within their paws and threw it away for a thing as senseless as morality. When Deputies felt comfortable killing leaders and StarClan felt comfortable rewarding them, it became evident that good and evil did not exist in WindClan - only those with power, and those without. Poised with ears shot forward, serpentine gaze unblinking and neck craned, Sootspot listened as if his very life was on the line. In some ways, it was - though he had never considered a place among DuskClan, he doubted the grey tabby would know that. He was his mother's son, proud and poised as the late Moorland Queen but twice as ambitious. She had not seen the measures he'd taken to fit into this new world, she would only know how much he'd done to fit into the old one. Weakness was sensed in the exposition and the Tunneler moved forwards.

"So.... you did not help WindClan and my sister out of remorse, but to spite DuskClan for hurting some loners." Was that the kind of creature that deserved the privilege of walking? In Sunstar's WindClan, it was not so certain, for cats too comfortable with the idea of betrayal rested around them. He didn't know how they'd been able to sleep after turning their backs on Sootstar, how they did not feel bile rise in their throat or memories flash before their eyes as if they were dying. Sootstar had been the first animal he'd turned his back on and only now did Sootspot realise how much that hurt. His only comfort was that she had turned her back on him first, chosen Granitepelt as a child instead of raising up her own. It served her right that he was dead, but where did that leave him? In danger. Threatened. His brows knitted together, his tone overly polite despite the venom in his words. "Perhaps you should take a walk... off of the gorge. Should DuskClan fall, you would inevitably turn your claws to the next being that hurt your feelings, be it WindClan or the very Stars themselves. Tell me why the medicine cats must waste their herbs on you, what value you living brings to WindClan."

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Sunstar is beckoned to the scene wearing the same expression he had taught his apprentice. Her own gaze slides to him, appraising, hoping to glean his thoughts (she thought this would be easy for her, and she thought wrong). He neither permits nor denies her walk as of yet, and Scorchstorm is almost content to depart the scene until silky blue fur brushes against her own coarse amber-and-black. The warrior flicks her tail against Bluefrost to return her greeting. The motion is beautifully mindless.

The lead warrior pierces Juncoclaw with a question that Scorchstorm would like to know the answer to herself. When the silver tabby delves into her story, she scoffs almost immediately. "Not worth my starvation." Scorchstorm has weathered famine here before — she finds the lack of conviction unbecoming. If Juncoclaw had wanted to abandon WindClan so bad, she could have at least starved for that desire. It would have saved us all a headache now.

But Horseplace pricks Scorchstorm's ears. Luckypaw had retired there, after the journey, chasing mice and content to live beyond the politics and gore that the Clans often wrought upon him. She would be lying if she claimed she resented him for it — she misses him, certainly, but she understands. For Juncoclaw, she cannot make the same exception. Still, the news of the violence in Horseplace sends ridges cresting down her spine, if only for a split-second. She would like to know that Luckypaw is safe, at least.

It is now Sootspot's turn to needle the girl. For once she does not bemoan the ashy tom's sudden appearance — for once, his spiteful tone has been forged into a useful weapon. Scorchstorm snorts at his suggestion for Juncoclaw's destination. Immediately she wishes she hadn't, but then decides she doesn't care.

In the midst of this all, Scorchstorm flicks her gaze again to her leader. "If you permit her to walk, allow me to take her," she requests of Sunstar, flat. She imagines herself the most fit of her current peers to take Juncoclaw about the territory, and of course, she has questions about Horseplace that she would like answered. Finally, she returns her spiteful gaze to the molly of the hour, a white-tipped ear twitching.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌 ✧

• ooc.
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 15 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

• 

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ Much like his former apprentice, Sunstar finds himself rarely in agreement with Sootspot's venomous barbs. His words are utilized as easily as a snake's fangs, yet under the pretense of honeyed knowledge. He is false to his core. So to find that he sees value in that deadly tongue. . . he does not laugh like Scorchstorm, but shifts and narrows his eyes in subtle discomfort. Either he had fallen so far as to make a mistake that Sootspot could easily recognize, or to insanity as he twists to view the world through his envy-green gaze. Neither is comforting. Both thoughts are swiftly discarded.

"Make no mistake, Sootspot: it is not your place to decide which herbs are wasted upon which cat. Should Wolfsong or Cottonsprig ask it, it will be done." Those words are easier to cling to than the admission that he sees his thoughts on the matter and does not flinch away from them. Trust in Wolfsong, once shattered, has been reforged in tentative strands. His heart reaches for what lies beneath wheaten fur, to match their beats in eternal rhythm. Being off-kilter after knowing such stability is a terrible feeling. "Whatever her reasons may be, we cannot act as if we would not do the same to those who have wronged us. Time will tell where her loyalties lie."

A roundabout phrase: I do not know what will become of her. Not yet. The circumspect admission brings exhaustion to Sunstar. He exhales. The words he had snapped out so shortly ago come back to haunt him. What Wolfsong asks shall be done. Seaglass eyes close tightly and his muzzle twitches. "Go, then," he forces out. "Scorchstorm and Bluefrost will accompany you. To the sunwarmed pool and back– no further." When they open again, a severe permafrost gaze finds both of his warriors. "She will return here as soon as you are done. If she causes trouble, do not bring her back at all."

With a final irritated swish of his tail, he turns deeper into Wolfsong's den, not looking back to murmur, "Let us talk." With the way that his hip knocks into the healer's, it is clear precisely who he means.

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞06.17⌝ 🟒ᨒ

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  ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. out !!
  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

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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 boxy 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.
  
  
  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 much to prove.

• "speech"

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