TW: Sensitive Content Open Territory but let her die of a broken heart ──✩°。⋆⸜ rats

Please review the more detailed TW summary at the top of the post.
This thread takes place outside the clan's camp in its territory.

juniperstar

don't tell me you're not the same person
ThunderClan
87
33
Freshkill
425
Pronouns
they/she
Rank
leader
Played by
tieirlys
juniper

their caution is warranted, appreciated... but cannot hold itching paws to their post. the new-leaf thaw inspires energy, impatience and the relief of knowing the worst has passed. no more gnashing teeth at blood-warm throats in hopes of whetting the appetite. there is so much of the territory that the freckled she-cat has not had the chance to explore... and at last they can make some progress in understanding the land they've claimed for ThunderClan. cyan trails the canopies and the speckled light that peeks between the leaves, listening for the skitter of squirrel paws in the branches, the clack of small birds roosting... it sings of prosperity. of the death of struggle.

the undergrowth rustles where mice rush away from the approaching paw-steps of her patrol... and with a squinted smile she turns towards her clan-mates to offer them some sort of encouragement to lose the sour faces. "The forest is practically humming with new life... what a relief. The apprentices will have an easier time learning in such abundance." if they had to be reminded to celebrate their good fortune she would waste her breath trying as long as was necessary.

with fewer stressors to haunt them, maybe they'd also grow less keen to nip at her heels over every choice she made. being a clan was as new to them as leadership was to her... still Juniperstar could not shake the feeling that she might find herself on Thornstar's path if someone half so ambitious as Sablestar grew tired of her softness. a sharp pain cuts across her ankle, having drawn too close to barbed brush- she draws in a breath of surprise but largely ignores it, adjusting her course to skirt it more widely. under the tones of joyous ambiance there is a growing crescendo...

a dart of shadow throws itself from the undergrowth, narrowly missing the cats it launches itself at- her vision trails it in wary confusion; had a squirrel thrown something at them? it rolls on the ground recklessly, scrambling to dirty feet with a nasty hiss. it's larger than a mouse... teeth sharper and beady eyes that fix on them with contempt. "Is that...?"

the theory goes proven in the veritable flood of many more that course from the shadows to swarm the patrol's feet- rats?! but why here- there is nothing to feed them in such a large mass. her mouth runs dry with overwhelm, staggering back to try to buy some time to gain her thoughts as claws slip from their sheathes. "Where did they even come from?"

 
❄︎
Maplefrost is distracted, as he has been more often than not these days. When Juniperstar speaks, he's only vaguely listening– his ears perk up, though, when he hears a familiar hissing noise. Rats. Shit. He unsheathes his claws immediately, hackles raising instinctively–

"Damn pests," he snarls, swiping at one of them, lifting it into the air and sending it flying– immediately, it's replaced with three more. "How many of them are there?!"


He turns to look at his companions, and out of the corner of his eyes sees a rat creeping forwards out of the shadows, yellow teeth bared– before he can warn Monstergrowl, the cat who it's creeping up towards, it's jumped into the air– acting on instinct, Maplefrost jumps too. He brushes against Monstergrowl's flank, bumps against his hip, paws reaching for the rat– his claws meet their target, but because of it, he lands awkwardly, tumbling once before landing on his feet– something sharp digs into his shoulder, but he ignores it. He makes sure the rat is dead before he tosses it aside, growling.


  • ooc: -
  • 91935968_egekecwToXYpXWp.png

    MAPLEFROST, - 19 moons / thunderclan warrior
    large tortoiseshell tom cat, lawful good
    healing and soft powerplay allowed

 

Owlbark wanted to feel bad for the way he watched Juniperstar as if she was thin ice ready to shatter. He wanted to stop feeling this way and respect her only as a leader and not a butterfly wing asking to be shredded. He steps lightly around her and waits to fend off anything that could break her. It was stressful and he doesn't exactly know what to do with this feeling other than play into it. He paced camp around her den and spoke behind her back of her fragility. He was two paces behind his leader now, letting her lead her patrol. She had seemed to be getting... better. Juniperstar was eager to leave her den and camp. Owlbark watched her warily, body tensed at every instance of weakness showing itself in her demeanor.

Juniperstar stops at the flash of putrid smelling fur and gnashing teeth. Owlbark responded to his leader's question with a hiss and order of "Rats! Everyone form up!" Maplefrost was already ready and pushing against Monstergrowl. Good. The tabby tom moved in front of Juniperstar and snarled at the rodents. Their beady eyes glinted in the shadows of the forest and he could smell the carrion that clung to their pelts. Dirty pests that tended to gather around rot, but none of that was here. Maybe they were migrating to find more food?

Owlbark shook his head full of racing thoughts and braced himself as rats leaped through the air at him. He was able to bat the first one away, but he was soon overwhelmed as sharp teeth bore into his forelegs. He grunted in pain at their assault, but kept his place firm in front of Juniperstar.

  • ooc: homeboy rolled a 2....... we're gonna pretend it let him take some of the blows for juni thumbs up emoji
  • OWLBARK
    THUNDERCLAN STORMGUARD
    51 moons, ages every 1st of the month
    open to peaceful interactions, but is a grump
    "SPEECH"
    penned by muddly
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COPPER OF THUNDERCLAN

Copperstorm padded alongside his leader, a deep frown creasing his face as he mulled over recent events. A lot had happened, too much, really. ShadowClan had been given that strip of ThunderClan land for two weeks, only to return it. Then there was the discovery of RiverClan and SkyClan, two Clans that had never existed in their time. They couldn't have been remnants from either side, if they had, surely someone would have recognized them. He let out a soft snort, shaking his head before tilting it slightly, ears flicking forward at the odd sensation prickling at his senses. Something was off.

" It is humming, indeed. " he finally murmured, shooting a lopsided grin toward his leader. He still didn't know how to feel about her, not after she'd given her kits away, to the one who had murdered Thornstar, no less. But it was her choice, in the end. Pushing those thoughts aside, he gave a solemn nod. " I can teach Erminepaw plenty with Newleaf coming. " There would be plenty of opportunity for training, if they all survived long enough for it to matter.

Then the rats came.

Too many. More than he had ever seen in one place.

A snarl tore from his throat as one managed to slip through, sinking its teeth into his paw. With a swift, brutal motion, he ended its life, but the sting remained. His sharp gaze darted around, assessing the others, some were injured, some were fighting well enough to avoid it. But how long could they last? " Wherever they're coming from, are we enough to take them all down, Juni? " he called out to the leader, ears pinning back as he swatted another rat away, just narrowly avoiding another bite.



you walk along the edge of danger ——・゚✦
・゚✦ —— AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU



 

Monstergrowl regards Juniperstar with an unreadable expression, one that borders on polite interest yet lacks any indication of true investment. Her optimism is admirable, if somewhat premature. The forest hums with life, yes, but so too does decay sing its ever-present counterpoint. Growth is never without rot. What thrives, feeds on what once was. It is an undeniable law, one that Monstergrowl has always found to be true. He does not voice this. There is little reason to diminish her relief, however fleeting it may prove to be.

The rustling in the undergrowth is not of the ordinary kind. He notes it in the way the air shifts—movement too frantic, too numerous, a dissonant staccato against the forest's usual rhythm. His muscles do not tense, but his senses sharpen. The first rat breaks from the shadows in a reckless flurry of fur and filth. Juniperstar hesitates. The momentary pause, the dryness of her throat—he sees it all, files it away for later contemplation. And then, of course, the swarm follows. Monstergrowl moves with practiced efficiency, a fluid economy of motion that wastes nothing. There is no fear in him, nor even disgust. Only assessment. Only curiosity. What drives them? There is no carrion, no evident famine—yet they come, blind and ravenous, as if compelled by something unseen. He rakes a rat from the air with a single swipe, studying the twitch of its dying limbs. It is thinner than it should be. Diseased, perhaps? Or desperate?

A sudden touch against his flank disrupts his musings, though only slightly. Maplefrost—so eager, so reactive. His intervention is unnecessary, but fascinating nonetheless. Monstergrowl watches, head tilting as Maplefrost dispatches the rat with an unthinking ferocity, as if his body moves before his mind can catch up. The other tom lands poorly, burdened by the weight of his own instinct. A flaw to be corrected, or simply one to be understood? Monstergrowl cannot help but admire it—the rawness of him, the way he does not hesitate even when he should. He steps closer, almost casual despite the chaos around them. "You are quick to act," he murmurs, his voice as smooth as ever, as if they were merely discussing the change of seasons. "A lesser cat might call it recklessness." His gaze flicks briefly to Maplefrost's shoulder, where something sharp had found purchase. A rat's bite, or merely the consequence of his own misstep? Either way, the wound is noted, catalogued.

The others—Owlbark, Copperstorm—throw themselves into the fray with similar fervor. Juniperstar, for all her softness, does not crumble. Monstergrowl wonders if this pleases Owlbark, or if he watches her with that same waiting tension as himself, ever expectant of failure. And Copperstorm—practical, pragmatic—his concerns are valid, though the way he frames them is interesting. Are we enough? That is always the question, isn't it? Monstergrowl finally shifts, placing himself with deliberate care just behind Maplefrost's flank, where the other's injury might slow him. Not out of kindness, nor loyalty—no, Monstergrowl simply wishes to see. To observe, up close, the way Maplefrost moves through pain. To test the boundaries of his endurance.

As he dispatches another rat, claws sinking deep into yielding flesh, he exhales, almost wistful. "Curious," he muses, barely loud enough to be heard over the frenzy. "A swarm where there should be none. An unnatural gathering, driven by unnatural means. I wonder, Juniperstar…" He does not look at her, still watching the filth-ridden tide of creatures before them, cleanly putting another down with an efficient movement. "Do you believe in omens?"
 
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