It wasn’t often that Juncoberry would sneak out of ShadowClan territory, but he supposed it was best if he made himself familiar with the ghostly flats where he’d be expected to now take part in gatherings, rather than just goof off with warriors from other Clans. He’d found his way here, careful to pick around borders and various other obstacles to arrive without quarrels or challenges. He made his way across the open flat, a deep pit settled in his stomach as he took in the sight of the clearing empty of other cats. The ground here was pounded smooth by many moons of countless paws stamping across it, the winds in his ears echoing the soft sound of water far below.
He could quite place why its emptiness unsettled him; it was a place normally filled with chatter and bustling movement, and the stillness here now brought to him a sense of doom, almost. He should be enjoying the quiet. There wasn’t a single place in all of ShadowClan territory where he could feel truly alone, but this aloneness left him feeling lonely. He made his way toward the highrock, deep amber eyes filled with some strange mix of wonder and… anxiety? Standing there at the base of the stone, he was closer than he’d ever been to it. He turned his gaze to his paws, realizing this was where he’d stand at the next gathering.
In a very typical response to his anxiety, he let out a small chuckle. The sound of it breaking the silence unnerved him, but he didn’t let that get in the way of his amusement with himself. Get over yourself, he scolded himself. “So this is what it’s like to be alone,” he muttered quietly, his tail lashing. He’d always felt alone within his Clan, but he’d never truly experienced this deadness around him. It was strange. Perhaps he should head back, before he lost his mind to this place.