A small gray she-cat with black tabby stipes and brown markings, long legs, thick fur and a white chest.

Junipernose blends in. In her litter the gray of her coat was there in her siblings. In her clan she is one of many small gray cats with long legs. In the trees of her home the markings of her coat blend into the bark surrounding her. A mane of white fur on her chest is one of the few things about her that stands out.

It would have been easier, far easier, if she had been born second or third or seventh or anything other than first. Juniperkit was eldest by a matter of minutes. Normally birth order wouldn't mean much, but here it did. Simply because seven kittens were too much for two cats to handle.

When did Graybloosom and Duskflower start leaning on Juniperkit to help wrangle her siblings? For as far as she remembers it must've been mere moments after learning to walk and talk. 

Some of her siblings were easier to handle than others. Like Willowkit and Dark-kit, they weren't any more playful or loud than other kits. And Ashkit was too weak to make trouble. Mountainkit and Snowkit were always in trouble. Rainkit was an odd one, never making trouble but always watching from the distance as her siblings got into mischief.

From the outside it probably looked like Juniperkit was normal. She played with her siblings, but did anyone notice the way she'd stop games from getting rowdy or scold her siblings for even suggesting breaking rules? Sometimes her parents did, imparting brief praise. It was the best way to get their attention, taking care of the others. And so she did, over and over and over even after their praise grew fainter and fainter.

As she grew she realized some of her siblings were struggling to get attention as well. Ashkit was doted on for being weak, and Mountainkit and Snowkit always got attention by being loud. But Willowkit and Dark-kit and Rainkit weren't at the center of either parent's attention for more than a few seconds. Juniperkit tried to help out, to take an interest.

But she also had to help out with the others. Someone had to tattle on the troublemakers and someone had to run to check on Ashkit to the medicine cat den if she got so much as a scratch in a playflight.

It got a little easier, when the seven were apprenticed.

Mentors had only one cat to focus on, unlike her parents. And while they didn't keep constant vigilance over their charges, it provided Juniperpaw with more freedom that she'd ever had.

It was awful.

What was she even supposed to do if not chasing after her siblings? Relax? As if. Apprentice duties helped fill the time, and anything left was filled with chores or babysitting younger kits in the nursery. 

"Are you planning to be a permaqueen?" It's Duskflower who asks, half paying attention. When Juniperpaw says she isn't, that's the end of the conversation. No one seems interested in digging into why exactly a child felt the need to mother others.

Among other apprentices Juniperpaw isn't popular, per say, but she isn't unpopular. She drifts from group to group, never building any deep relationships but never making an enemy. Everyone's willing to let her hang around or join them on patrols, but she's no one's first pick.

Rowanpaw was the first cat to change that.

The two met at a the gathering. The two talked, he even waited as she scolded a fellow apprentice trying to pick on Ashpaw for being small. He seemed to genuinely enjoy listening to her. It was nice, having a friend.

And that's all she saw him as. Not long after they met he was made a guardian and named Rowanheart. The thought of a properly named warrior being interested in her was entirely impossible to Juniperpaw.

His affection didn't feel like anything more than a good friend, one she looked forward to seeing. He liked to boast and show off his fighting skills at the gathering. But she never saw it as something aimed at her as much something he did when she happened to be around. It didn't really impress her either, she preferred when the two got the chance to just talk one-on-one. 

It was nice.

He was nice.

But he was only there once every moon. For the rest of the time Juniperpaw was absorbed in her duties as an apprentice. Maybe it was innate luck or talent or a life spent tracking down and telling apart siblings who all smelled vaguely similar, but she had a gift for tracking.

The scents told a story, one made clearer through the smallest of changes. And the rest of the forest helped define that story. The faintest footmarks made by a mouse showing a limp. A berry bush whose berries just ripened with a stray feather in the shrubbery nearby. They all told stories that she eagerly read.

It wasn't a surprise, then, when she was named Junipernose for her tracking skill. But it was an honor. She happily stood vigil alongside her siblings.

At the next gathering she got to share her new name with Rowanheart. There were other cats in the clans she'd chatted with from time to time, but he was the one she wanted to tell most, to her surprise. 

For the next few moons their song and dance of him trying to impress her and earn her affection continued, and with each passing moon it affected her more and more until she found herself longing for each new gathering and each new chance to see him. Even at night while in her nest, surrounded by clan and kin, she wished he was there next to her.

But he wasn't, he was from Ridgeclan.

By the time she realized the dept of her feelings for him, it was too late to distance herself or pull back. She liked him, and realized he liked her. And yet she couldn't see a way they could work when living in separate clans. So she kept her feelings to herself.

Even worse, tensions were rising between the clans. While Rownheart was kind and loveable as ever, she could sense the animosity from Ridgeclan growing at each gathering.

The tension boiled over into war.

Junipernose couldn't avoid it. The fight was on her home, in her lands, against her kin and against herself. For Starclan's sake her nieces and nephews were only a few moons old, hidden away in the nursery with their peers.

She wasn't much of a fighter, but she did her best to defend her family. But there's too many of them, all lost in an endless sea of claws and fangs and fur and blood.

And then she saw him. Rowanheart. Her heart. He's on the other side of the war. When he runs away from the fight she follows.

It feels selfish to follow him away from the battle, but she continued. He was easy to track. When he finally stopped running they were far enough away from the battle to talk, and he tried to apologize for the war he didn't start. She interrupted him by nuzzling close, simply glad he was alive and away from the fight. 

Rowanheart broke the silence once more by asking to be her mate. He had a whole speech, awkward but unbelievable sweet. And honest. And when he asked her to interrupt him she did and agreed. Neither of them wanted to leave their clans, so the new couple arranged to meet up in a few days.

It hurts to leave him, but it hurts more to see the state Mistclan is in. The death toll is harsh, and close to home. Mountainbranch dies, leaving two kits still in the nursery. Ashfur dies of an infection. And Rainshade loses her mate, another set of kits without a parent.

Junipernose does her best to be a supportive sister and aunt.

The days after the war are some of the best and worst of her life. She has a mate, but she's lost two siblings. All she can share with her clan is her grief, not her joy. That joy would make her a traitor in their eyes.

But it's worth it when she sees Rowanheart. It's worth it to steal time with him, to know in her heart that he's her mate. Even if she sleep alone at night, she gets to dream of him and their precious few stolen moments. 

The clans slowly recovered, though it comes easier to some than others. Nothing could return to how it was. Yet they could rebuild. There were hiccups and struggles still, Irisfrost's stolen kits, spats at the borders, but life marched on.

Somehow she and Rownheart made the distance work. They found their spots to meet, their time to to steal away. And as leaf-bare drew near, Junipernose found herself struggling with strangely familiar symptoms. She brushed it aside, complaining a little to her mate. And then Lotusfire confirmed her suspicions.

At their next meeting Junipernose told Rowanheart she was pregnant with his kits. It would be difficult, they both knew that. But they could make it work. She'd helped raise her siblings and nieces and nephews, she could raise her own kits. It would be great, when they were older they could meet Rowanheart at the gathering or along the border.

Junipernose prepared herself, moving to the nursery. Kin and clan pestered for the father, though she refused to say. At night she wondered if any of them would look like Rowanheart. 

Trigger Warning: Loss of Unborn Kits

But then she got sick. A cough at first, mild. But it grew worse and worse until it was greencough. The sickness ravaged her, took a toll on her body. And it took her kits. 

The loss of her unborn children hurt both physically and emotionally. For moons she'd wanted children, but not sought to have them. And then she'd gotten her chance, had time to think of their names and potential mentors and how to introduce them to their father, only to have it torn out from under her paws.

For so much of her life she'd been thrust unwillingly into a motherly role, only to lose it when she genuinely wanted it.

It was too much.

Junipernose wilted, flittering in and out of the medicine cat den. Days and days flashed in a haze of cold and snow and pain. She couldn't bring herself to leave her nest some days, much less make the trek to tell Rowanheart what happened. Part of her didn't want to either, didn't want to break his heart like this.

Eventually she starts down a road to something resembling recovery. She finally eats, starts to help around camp with small chores. Sometimes she even joins some of the shorter hunting patrols. 

And after a while she even visits her and Rowan's meeting spot. Though she can smell his scent faintly, he isn't there. She tries every now and then, but they're out of sync now.

Leaf-bare is a blur, so much happens that doesn't seem to matter anymore. The Kingdom splits off, Praireclan loses its leader and gains a new one, and then newleaf is there.

It helps a little, getting to see the sun more. Not having to worry about managing grief while feeling useless to a clan in the midst of its harshest moons. 

Pre-Plotting: Junipernose is Rainshade's sister and Rowanheart's mate, adopted from both of their wanted ads, respectively here and here. She best falls into the branches belief in Mistclan. 

Family: As the eldest of a litter of seven, Juni spent much of her kithood playing second mother to her siblings. Even as an adult she struggled to shake the motherly role she played.

Friends: Junipernose is the sort of cat who can be friends with just about anyone. She fits into just about any social group, but struggles to form deeper friendships. 

Romance: Rowanheart is her heart.

optional images