Juncoberry was a mess. He had begun to rely so heavily on the other ranks within the Clan that now, when they were missing two, he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be doing. He had managed to avoid becoming bitter, falling back on his (sometimes questionable) sense of humor as a defense mechanism. He couldn’t help but find the irony in this whole situation. He had gone his whole life getting by easily on his own, not relying on others for a sense of stability; now, just as he was beginning to form genuine bonds with others, everything was being stripped away for seemingly no reason. It was like a smack in the face from StarClan. Juncoberry had a hard time believing in coincidence.
When he’d run out of duties to perform, the grey-spattered tom’s first thought was to find Tigershadow, or perhaps Ravenbones– but his mate was busy carrying out his own duties, and his best friend was increasingly scarce these days. And so, unsure what else he could possibly do, he’d ventured to the medicine cats’ den, hoping to be of some use there. He wanted to be doing something productive, if only to ground himself. He ducked into the den, his ears perked and tail held high as though he had not a care in the world, despite the deep discomfort he felt growing in his belly. “Hey, Hareflight,” he called in, a little too loud. He clenched his jaw, darting a sheepish glance at the forms of those lying in the den. “Um, I was wonderin’ if I could help you with anything,” he went on, quieter this time. “I’m bored,” he explained, offering a lazy grin.