bites my hand when i go wrong | prompt

[SMOKESTEP]

TAGS — Something goes wrong in the tunnels. It isn't disastrous, thank StarClan, but it scares you, and forces you to confront the difficulty of your job. How do you feel? Does this change your thoughts on a life in these tunnels?

Smokepaw belongs in the tunnels. In the same way that birds belong in the sky and fish belong in the river, the apprentice seems crafted specifically for the task of diving below the earth's surface, cutting through the tunnels like a shark through a current. He tries to be well-rounded down there; able to catch rabbits or effectively clear blocked paths or simply marking each craggy turn with WindClan scent. It's a hard job, but it's a good job- and the harder it gets the more accomplished he feels for doing it; the more it takes the sting out of being nearly ineffective on the moor's surface. The tensions with SkyClan have reduced to a bare simmer, but the memory of the raid is still fresh in his mind. He'd fought that kittypet apprentice well, and he'd even drawn blood- but the apprentice hadn't even tried to use his claws. He remembers the sight of Firepaw's wounds, and of Icepaw's and his other fellow apprentices' bloodied pelts; he'd had nothing to show for his battle except the crimson on his claws. His own clean pelt serves less to convince him that he's apt in battle and more to make him guilty for his lacking effort. Maybe if he'd seemed like more of a threat, Snowpaw would have unsheathed his claws after all.

But maybe StarClan knew he's got enough scars to begin with. He can hardly see his own paws in the dim of the tunnels, but the scars that spiderweb across them illustrate the cold, dull ache of past injury. It happened moons ago now; Firepaw's charge ahead, the collapsing of rock before him and after her, the way he'd had to dig her out with bloodied paws. He tries to stop thinking about it- the way it had scared him. Smokepaw doesn't like to let himself be anxious. And besides, they're both fine now, aren't they? The tunnels were dangerous, but he's still a tunneler apprentice. He supposes he could have become a moorrunner, like she had- but what's the glory in that? Why go through the pain just to quit after it all?

He's so wrapped in his thoughts that he hardly hears the rumble of the tunnels when it comes. It's nothing huge. Just a dull groaning of earth that can't hold itself up, desperate to collapse. Smokepaw's ears twitch as he hears the warning signs at the last possible second. An icy chill shoots through him and he finds it difficult to get his limbs moving; all at once he is transported back to the collapsing tunnels from before, Firepaw inches ahead of him while rock and mud caved in. But he shoots forward, gravelly soil pelting his hind limbs as if to catch him beneath the earth and keep him there. It was a minor collapse, and he's safe, but he feels far from it. His heart pounds in his chest. If he hadn't had the strength to move, he would have ended up stuck down here and dead. Smokepaw's amber eyes flash with earnest fear. His limbs shake as he guides himself aboveground again.

He doesn't have the wherewithal to be frustrated by the stinging light of day. Smokepaw squints against it, but really he is just glad to be topside for the first time in his life. The young tom hardly moves from the tunnel entrance he'd emerged from, instead choosing to ground himself in a small attempt to recover from his shock. His tail wraps tightly around himself. He supposes all he can do is hope that nobody stumbles across him- Ravencry wouldn't like her son showing so much weakness, and frankly, he doesn't like showing it himself. He just needs a minute alone, with the fresh air, to recover, and then he can dive beneath again and get back to work. It's all part of the job, after all. Isn't it?​

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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 Wolfsong is small enough to traverse the tunnels, but he has no interest in it. Not for a fear of the many risks, but a preference for the limitless sky and every bird or cloud that sails it. He and Sunstride are creatures of battle, and while tunnelers can certainly hold their own, they are treasured for their mastery of hunting prey in their own safehavens. Still, for all his dislike of the concept of being largely invisible to the world, Wolfsong occasionally visits the tunnel entrances. At times he even imagines the winding paths below his paws and the thrum of tunnelers within.

He finds Smokepaw on such an outing, shortly after an odd vibration disturbing the soil. The apprentice is clearly sun-blinded, but more than that, he strikes Wolfsong as ill at ease. Perhaps it is the disparity of worlds that upsets him, but he did not seem so unsettled when last we met.

"Smokepaw," he greets warmly. "It has been many dawns since I've seen your face. Is there trouble in the tunnels?"
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[Firefang]

Firepaw was never meant to belong to the tunnels the way her brother does, they never felt like home those deep dark spaces beneath the moors she runs on now smell of death to her. She's meant for the land above where the sun can soak her fur and Starclans radiance can reach her, where there was no danger of entering a chasm and never returning. Where her flesh and blood would rot food for the worms while her spirit slumbered forgotten by time. She's grown to much to return to them now no longer the runt she'd been mesmerized by the greatest duty a Windclanner could accomplish; she's no longer the third in a set she's swept away and forgotten something ensured the moment her curiosity and hunger to prove herself almost ended in her own demise and the injuries that laced her brothers paws with lasting memory of what her stupidity had earned them both. It'd been a tragedy to her mother, she fretted more over those damned paws then she did for the daughter who stared death in the face; the child who had to be saved, the child who caused it and who could've dragged Smokepaw with her into an early grave.

She hates thinking about it. Hates thinking of the tunnels, hates thinking of what could've happened and what could've been if she'd been the daughter she was supposed to be. Whenever looks down into the burrows or watches a Tunneler emerge she's reminded of what she should've been and what she truly never wants to be again. When she looks at them she remembers the childish wonder and longing she felt, just as she can remember the primal desperation and overwhelming fear of the depths that so nearly had swallowed her. She doesn't understand why Smokepaw returned to them so eagerly, doesn't comprehend how any of her clanmates can spend so much time in there. Does she envy them? Does she hate them? She doesn't know herself, they're everything she isn't, holding on to courage she'd long since lost.

She hasn't seen her brother since he'd last badgered her for updates on her training, forever momma's precious little brat. She avoids him whenever she can even if he seems to like tagging along with her for whatever reason, maybe to mock her if not to be the dutiful little nark and tell their mother every little mistake she makes which she certain he does. Why else would she be so silent towards her, Firepaw was strong now after all wasn't she? She wore battle scars now, was continously proving her loyalty and was the apprentice of the deputy and had even been so close to the Moonstone. Smokepaw probably just declined to tell her any of that, just so he could continue being the star in her eyes. She's certain, and when she sees him pulling himself out of the earth she doesn't stifle her groan or soften her eyes. She glares at him, yet she still pads up to him not to check up on him but as per usual to snap at him. Yet as she comes closer she catches something about him that makes her stop, that makes her throat tighten. He's sat down slumped just a tad but it's not his posture that makes her heart beat faster but the look in his eyes it's unmistakable she'd seen it before written on his face. Had seen it that day many moons ago, she bore the same look once after all. The eyes never lied, true unmistakable terror scarred them like claws rending flesh.

Is there trouble in the tunnels. She could answer that for him, something had happened.

❝What's wrong?❞ concern rings true, ferocity gone from her voice and face as she steps closer to him ❝What in starclan's name happened down there?❞

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( PLACE ME IN MY CASKET TONIGHT ; BECAUSE IM ALREADY DYING INSIDE )