duskclan DARKNESS FALLS ✧ "ceremony"

[GRANITEPELT]

Thriftfeather. Dustwhisker. Thornrunner. Juncopaw. Ebonylight. Rumblerain. Those are who remain of Sootstar’s most loyal warriors—and Granitepelt is their leader. The gray warrior has spent muddled, gray days with aching joints and sour wounds in a makeshift nest. He has scoured the scrubland with his ‘Clanmates,’ finding meager prey, less recognizable herbs. It feels like a wasteland—they’re the only life for as far as their eyes can see to the next horizon. Still, Granitepelt makes the best of it—he has to. They all have to. They are all that’s left of the one, true WindClan.

“Gather,” he rasps, winding his tail around his slate-colored paws. They’re all still sore, limping, their stomachs are barren, but there is fight flaring in their eyes. The Clans—WindClan and Sunstride especially—have not seen the last of them, that’s for certain. “There is someone among us who should have received her warrior name long ago. Juncopaw, step forward.”

The stars are beginning to burn through the inky sky, but it is of no consequence to Granitepelt. He does not need a star behind his name to make an apprentice into a warrior. He has sat through ceremony after ceremony, under leader after leader, and he knows the words that will make Juncopaw into a true warrior—that is, if he eliminates the need for Clans and the warrior code. “I, Granitepelt, call Juncopaw forward. She has trained hard to become a formidable warrior.”

He turns lean, hungry green eyes on the apprentice in question. He beckons her forward with the flick of his tail. “Juncopaw, do you promise to stand by your true Clanmates through blood and fire, no matter what threatens to tear us apart?” He’s making words up as he goes, but he’s satisfied with the way they feel slipping through his teeth.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 20 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

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[juncoclaw]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Juncopaw's body ached, wounds stinging and stomach growling. She never thought she'd miss the easiness of WindClan life before the traitors disappeared, when she could leech off the warriors' good hunting. For the numerous days since the exiles arrived in their new wasteland of a home, the silver tabby had been sulking, uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn. When Granitepelt called for a meeting, she almost ignored him, until she heard her name called under the moonlight.

When beckoned, Juncopaw stepped forward, though her stance was less than enthusiastic. Her tail whipped behind her, and each step towards Granitepelt came with a sharp look towards the other gathered rogues, as if daring them, anyone, to object. To call her out for what she really was - a coward, a failure, a cat undeserving of a warrior name. What good was a warrior name now, anyway, if it was not Sootstar herself blessing her with it? How deserving was Juncopaw of this ceremony if she had not fought to her last breath defending her leader?

Granitepelt's vow for her to pledge is almost laughable, if only there was any laughter left in the young molly. She had never been close with her Clanmates, even knowing their shared ideals - really, Sootstar was the glue that bound her to the other WindClanners in alliance. Without Sootstar, a common purpose, she found herself wanting to quarrel more than anything with the cats she once fought alongside. If Juncopaw had any care for her 'true Clanmates', perhaps there would be a little more passion in the two words that followed the vow: "I do."

But her promise sounded just as empty as it felt. In her heart, Juncopaw knew that in this time of hunger, pain and uncertainty, her loyalty to these cats was as fragile as ever. It was only a matter of time before it shattered.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── NOTHING COMPARES TO ⋅❁⋅ THE FEVER DREAM ──┐‎

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• 
  JUNCOPAW ✩ she/her, rogue of duskclan, 9 moons.
  ⭃ a blue-silver tabby chimera she-cat with green eyes.
  ⭃ n/a family // formerly mentored by mockinggrin
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[RUMBLERAIN]

Rumblerain feels as if their stomach is about to turn. Granitepelt's meow is not yet one they're accustomed to, far less still in the context of calling them close for a ceremony, and a pang in their chest reminds them that they miss Sootstar. They miss her dependability, the presence she had commanded them all to look towards, the way WindClan had wanted to look to her for guidance. Now ... now they have a former ShadowClanner thrust unceremoniously into her pawprints after Snakehiss' betrayal.

Unwilling to utter a word, the scruffy-looking (yet still, miraculously, unharmed) warrior settles among the small crowd to listen to Juncopaw's vow. It rings true, but there's an emptiness to it that they can't quite place ... maybe Juncopaw is just as tired as the rest of them.

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[GRANITEPELT]

Juncopaw’s response is flat as the earth that tumbles around them, but it’s a vow just the same—one Granitepelt intends to ensure she keeps. The gray warrior’s eyes narrow before he slowly nods his head. “In that case, let you be known from this day forward as Juncoclaw.” He unsheathes his claws, shredding the scrub beneath his feet as his mind churns. Teeth like fire bite into his brain—what comes next, now, that the stars have abandoned them? To whom does Juncoclaw pledge her loyalty to—to Sootstar, as good as dead in Sunstride’s claws? To Granitepelt, still less a leader and more a rough-hewn successor?

His jaw twitches, tightens, and his features smooth over. “I know this ceremony is not what any of us are used to. We have lived our lives pledging our loyalties to leaders who don’t care about us, to stars that fill an empty sky.” Green eyes narrow into slits. “We are the remnants of the night Sootstar would have brought to this forest… but it will still come to them.” He paces, paws haphazardly circular. “We are DuskClan, and we will stand together—no, we’ll fight together. The Clans in the forest have not seen the last of us…”

He pictures Starlingheart, her flesh tearing under his claws, and his heart blooms.

“Juncoclaw! Juncoclaw!” He whips around, raising his voice so that it lifts toward the cloud-strewn sky. There are pitifully few to call her name, but those that remain are strong, worthy of their cause.

He forces himself to believe that.

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

• ooc: sorry this is so late eeee
• 
• Granitekit . Granitepaw . Granitepelt, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 21 moons old, ages realistically on the 10th.
  — mentored by Pitchstar and Dogfur ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Applepaw
  — windclan warrior. flint x sandra, gen 2.
  — formerly mated to Starlingheart, currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh blue and white tom with dark green eyes. arrogant, stealthy, sneaky, observant, perceptive, cunning, spiteful, envious.
  
  

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