really be the one this time // o; in the tunnel

I DON'T CARE IF IT'S A LIE

The tunnel is damp, and dark, and cold, and most of all, loud. Siltkit hates it - she misses the comfort of the nursery, the moss and the briars and the puddles full of frogs. She wants to go back home. But they can't because the forest smells like smoke and ash and heat and the fire is still burning and when she ask's the adults tell her it's not safe. A quiet sigh and a frown are the only complaints she makes however - she doesn't want to cause anymore trouble, doesn't want to worry anyone when things are like this. The roaring rumble of a monster overhead has her shuddering - glancing around for something to keep herself occupied. She doesn't want to think about the fact there might not be a home left when the fires done and burnt out. Taking a deep breath, she approaches the first cat who seems to be busy doing something, eyes averted as she quietly offers her services. "Um... do you... need help?" she hopes they say yes.

 
Granitekit had been huddled against his sister, senses dulled and deafened by the infernal noise and pressure the monsters above them created. This is the furthest he's ever been outside of camp, and he's bitter that the trek through ShadowClan's territory had culminated in sheltering in the worst possible place he can imagine. It stinks in here, and it's cold, and it's wet, and the noise - the noise!

He only wants to sleep and pretend nothing is happening, but there's an emptiness at his side where Siltkit had been. He blinks and watches her approach another cat who seems busy with something.

"Better than doing nothing," he mutters to himself, though he is feeling decidedly unhelpful. He sits beside Siltkit, but does not offer assistance, only looks at how gray and ashy his white paws look after wading through their territory and now this nasty tunnel.

PENNED BY MARQUETTE
 
slitkit wants to help. feeling rather peckish, it seemed. but they all did. stuck in the cold dark wetness, in the name of safety. they'd all rather be back in camp. chilledgaze didn't realize how much they'd miss just the way the moon shined over them, and how much they loathed the sound of monsters above, and their retched scent. it would be way too soon if chilled never had to hear, or smell, another one of those roaring beasts. sighing heavily, they turned their icy gaze to the kit, ears flicking back and forth. poor kit looked desperate to do something. granitekit looks anything but. they can't blame either of them. to want to do something was reasonable, but with the sadness and overwhelming state of everything, wanting to do nothing was just as. tch. why did they, out of all cats, get stuck trying to entertain these snot nosed kits? biting their tongue, they only looked back at what they were doing.

"sure, kit. i'm just makin' some nests more... comfortable i guess."

they pushed the nest forward, raising a brow.

"it ain't much work, but... we better get the rest we can."

they said. who knows. maybe we will have to find a new home and that would be a terrible journey. even if we don't, we're gonna have hell of a lot of work to do. tch. how annoying. chilledgaze's thoughts are bitter but they don't actually say it. they're trying to be less of an ass for the kits in front of them, but who knew if it was working. they hated having to filter themself.
[ NOBODY ELSE MATTERS, GIRL ]
 
I DON'T CARE IF IT'S A LIE

Comfortable. Siltkit doubts anything in this starclan forsaken tunnel could ever be comfortable. But she doesn't bother to speak her mind, never does. Instead, a silent nod and a questioning glance at her brother is her only response, before she's picking up a mouthful of moss to sort through. Something sharp pricks her tongue, and with a wince she sets the lump at her paws, white mittens carefully sorting out the offending burr with a mall frown. Her small frame is even more ragged than usually - her pelt not only unkept but unclean, for once ash and mud and leaflitter staining her dust-hued fur. ".... is starclan punishing us?" she's heard the stories of course. of the ghosts of the great battle, of feline specters giving 'nine-lives' and signs. And she'd heard bonejaw herself. I saw this in a dream and it's come to pass she'd said. Had they done something wrong?

 

Upon arriving to the tunnel all she has been able to do is keep others from their coughing fits. Assuage the dry burning in the throats of those that inhaled too much of the forest fire smoke. It's been a full time job but she's been making it work in her favor at the current moment. Still she hopes that soon things will be normal again and that they can find their way back home. This place is dreadful, and uncomfortable and she likens it to being trapped underground. Disturbing. Shaking her head a little she is trying to root through what is left of the herbs she had been able to take with her from their camp when she sees the children. Personally she still looks at Granitekit with a frown upon her muzzle but Siltkit is different than their sibling. Hearing words and her question she sighs as she pushes to her long white coated limbs.

Stepping forth she gives a small nod toward Chilledgaze before looking to the kit once more. "I don't think that is the reason for the fire. So don't think that Starclan is punishing us. We've done nothing wrong but the fire happened because of the storm and nothing more." She doubted that Starclan controlled the weather. More like perhaps they had been trying to send a warning through her and she just didn't understand it. Another fault of her own to bare. She wishes that things didn't solely rely upon her understanding and distinguishing one dream from one that is supposed to be important.