DEAD ON ARRIVAL — cloudedsky

[cygnetstare]

The half-moon form of Cygnetstare stands just outside the tunnel she'd emerged from, harlequined with smeared dirt in the careful cover of the shadows. One eye on the hateful golden mask of the sun, she glances back at the similarly dirt-dappled form of her fellow tunneler. She blinks wide pink eyes at Cloudedsky's shadowed form and looks back out; over the sloping prairie hills, she feels she can practically see the dripping slimy forms of the fish-beasts, even if her oft sun-scorched vision doesn't reach quite that far. She can feel them. Still in the shadows, the chimera coils herself into a skeletal, awkward sitting position; removed from the damp comfort of the underground, she similarly loses the grace she possesses beneath the earth.

Glancing again at the other tunneler and back out, squinting at the moors, Cygnetstare ponders for a moment the defeats WindClan has suffered as of late. She was assured of their future dominion over the flatlanders, certainly; the discovery of the secret tunnels leading there had soothed her spirits in that regard. But the fish-beasts .... they'd held one of their own apprentices in their webbed and hateful talons, and rumors held that their eel king was losing his slippery grasp of sanity. They were out of control, she affirms to herself; if only they had tunnels to reach like claws of dirt into the water territory, but their gorge border put paid to that as well. She looks back to the now-emerged Cloudedsky; perhaps she ought to raise the topic with her, she's Sootstar's daughter after all.

"Dontcha ever wish we had tunnels leading to RiverClan?" Cygnetstare offers the topic in a gravelly Northeastern drawl, pondering the idea still as she speaks. The chimera pauses and then elaborates, "We've got tunnels into ShadowClan, so we know we got that over on them, y'know what I mean? But because of that damned gorge there's no way there's any into the fish-beasts' territory. Feel like we'd want those the most right now."
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// @Cloudedsky !!

 

[Cloudedsky]

( ♬ ) The patrol that Cygnetstare and her had been appointed was now completed, reinforcing the cavern-like walls that enclosed upon them. Much like her tunneler counterpart, Cloudedsky is now sprinkled with dirt and grime, her ivory body blotted in loose soil that stains what was once pristine. She moves behind the other tunneler, keeping her head low and whiskers brushing the walls as they breached the surface. A brisk rush of fresh air wisks through her feathered festures, lungs hungrily drinking in the scent of moorland grass and heather. Cygnetstare stands before her, cloaked in light and shadow, a breach of moonlight upon the starry sky of night fall. She watches her with a curious flit of molten eyes, tail twitching as the woman looks back to her before returning her gaze to the crest of the rolling hills that opened before them.
Something seemed to be weighing heavy on her mind, giving the way she looked off into the distance despite sensitivity of light that touches her blushed colored eyes. Cloudedsky presses herself to the wall, moving around her counterpart to step on soft grass and breathed deeply. The dirt that coated her shirt stature also littered over scabbed over wounds. Wounds of a battle that was lost to them. She often dreams about that day, what was a usual patrol had been sullied by blood and torn flesh. She dreams of tearing into blue fur, ripping the very viscera of that warrior she had fought. Rage had ensnared her, held her with a vice grip much like that cyclops looking tom had held her very sister in his clutches. Toying with her life as if she were nothing but a mere rabbit. She wanted to kill, wanted to rip them apart in retribution for Cottonpaw's injuries. She remembers the flash of panic on Lichentail's face as she laughed at her in a barbaric dance of tooth and claw, remembers the mettalic taste of her blood on her mouth. It was invigorating. She wanted more.
Cygnetstare's voice soon breaks her thoughts and now she's standing against the entrance if the tunnel they had breached, her head whips towards her and vibrant hues linger upon the half moon tunneler for a moment. Dontcha ever wish we had tunnels leading to RiverClan? "What?" A rhetorical question honestly, for it took a moment to register what the molly had said before it sunk in and Cloudedsky leans in further as she continues on. She nods her head in understanding, reclining back onto her haunches in a poised sit. "It is true. There's no way around it either." That damn river of theirs. If only there was a way—could there be? Nostrils flare as she heaves a sigh, blue ears flicking a bit of grit that lingered upon them. There was only one way to get close to RiverClan territory. A territory that was now stained with crimson ichor and suddenly she perks up. "The bridge!" She gasps, eyes widening with the realization. "It's the only way. But perhaps we could create a tunnel to the bridge! There's plenty of brush to cover the entrance. It's not as feasible like in ShadowClan—but it's our only shot. What do you think?" The growing excitement in her voice was evident, a sparkle within sunburst depths and her tail practically curls over her spotted paws. Surely, Sootstar would approve of this?

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( You should see me in a crown ; I'm gonna run this nothing town )

 

[cygnetstare]

The tunneler shifts their flushed eyes from the distant hills, where the sun's hateful rays glance off the vales of the moor to strike pain in her bleached irises. Those wide and vacant eyes, dumb as a corpse's, disguise the writhing thoughts behind them as they settle on Cloudedsky, awaiting with a distant interest her response. Cygnetstare has not had the fortune in the times since their apprenticeship ended to step mismatched paws upon the revolting river earth and feel the pleasant rush of battle against the eel king and his legions. No, their tongue is empty of the sweet rich tang of blood, their claws aimlessly searching for flesh to sink into, no angry grudges hanging about her head as they do Cloudedsky's—and yet. She hungers, a visceral starvation, for battle; to rend and shred tatters of fur hiding cowardly scales in the name of the Clan that roams the moors. To send the fish-beasts running home soaked with blood instead of river-water, to feel the give of their oily flesh between pale jaws.

Their fellow tunneler bemoans the lack just as they have, until a sharp gasp breaks the unhappy silence. Cygnetstare's head swivels, lolling limply on their neck as though broken, to its source; milky bat ears stand high to hear the patched cat's words. A tunnel to the bridge—pale gut eyes widen despite the angry glare of the sun, seizing upon those bright as the evil sun but without the arrows of pain it comes with; they had not thought of it, but as their mind turns it over they see no issue. Easy access to the eel's territory, shielded by abundant brush—a stars-gifted idea, one by which they could stream into the foam-splashed world of the fish-beasts like a silent army, smeared in dirt and blood.

"Ayuh, that's a good idea. Must've inherited your mother's mind." It's a compliment, a strange one but one nonetheless; the chimera's perpetually dirt-choked mew is vacant as ever but excitement is a live and hungry pyre in their chest. It all makes sense—a way to battle, to spy even; perhaps more underhanded tactics too. Cygnetstare's sunscorched eyes are wide and almost pulsing with the ambitions behind their empty funeral stare. She adds, "We'd have a fast way to send reinforcements to battle, an' a way in for other things too. We could send our stealthiest tunnelers to watch their patrols if we wanted, or if we're ever needin' to get into their camp at night ... it'd be almos' too easy. We oughta pitch this to Sootstar."
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