private DIAMOND SANDS OF TIME — badger and co.

[cygnetstare]

♱—— "thank ya kindly for indulging my timin' limits, both of ya," the tunneler's gravedirt voice rings out in the relative quiet of windclan's moors at dusk; the hateful orange sun is just beginning to duck beneath the horizon—she's lucky the moor-runners are so accomodating today. then again, she supposes badgermoon knows as well as she does that the last thing luckypaw needs is a mentor made sore and limited by the sun's attack. they pad alongside her fellow mentor, perhaps half a pawstep behind; it feels distinctly strange to stride beside windclan's large and respected moor-runner deputy, pawstep to pawstep.

still, she's honestly glad to see him and scorchpaw accompanying them today for more than one reason. for one thing, they do not wish to keep luckypaw from his family above the ground, despite the duties of tunnelers. that, and another reason—if luckypaw is her apprentice, he will never grow to be a nimble brute like badgermoon or carry scorchpaw's broad shoulders. she herself nearly died fighting that massive mutt of a warrior in the last battle, and only careful training and most importantly, practice, can help the tiniest windclanners learn how to hold their own against larger foes. enter the other pair—chosen as moor-runners, they both carry larger frames and broader shoulders than either cygnetstare or her apprentice. they should provide fine combat practice to help luckypaw acclimate, even though scorchpaw is still quite small thanks to her youth.

"i'm hopin' to, well, help luckypaw get used to fightin' bigger opponents early," cygnetstare voices these thoughts as they reach their destination, flicking her long tail. she's hoping badgermoon will approve of this idea, both as her fellow mentor and deputy and as luckypaw's father. the freshly healed wounds bracketing her neck are proof enough that the smallest tunnelers have to learn these skills to survive battle. pausing in place, they glance around, mewing, "we can stop here, i 'spose. happy to let you take the lead, badgermoon." she dips her head slightly, willing to take direction from the more experienced mentor.

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┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:

• ooc: @Badgermoon @LUCKYPAW @SCORCHPAW
  

• 

• ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze) she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 17 ☾s —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan. —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• battle stuff goes here for fights

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

The moors look different as the sun hides itself beyond them. Scorchpaw is looking everywhere she can. Everywhere except Luckypaw's face, to be precise. She looks to the heather washed blue by the evening sky; she looks to the sky where Silverpelt sneaks between rose-pink clouds; she watches dancing fireflies blink in and out of existence. The moors are beautiful at this cusp between day and night. She'd never known that before, and she's glad to know it now, and she stubbornly keeps observing it as opposed to speaking to her littermate.

It's not that she despises Luckypaw for his good fortune. He'd been named for it, after all, and so it only makes sense that he walks the path of catacombs with his undertaker. But she had been named for a tunneler too, hadn't she? The image of her mother's stiff posture at her apprentice ceremony spreads bitterness on Scorchpaw's tongue. Scorchstreak was a great tunneler; a perfect tunneler; a tunneler that Sootstar now relies on to forge a new path all the way to the twoleg bridge. Why should her daughter not share that fate? Why should Scorchpaw be made to pace the grasses above rather than the bones below? But she is nothing if not obedient, and so she complains not of her training, at least out loud; instead, the girl makes her displeasure known in each jealous glance she steals, and each longing gaze into the tunnel mouths she does stumble across. Perhaps it is unkind of her to take it out on her brother now, but she doesn't acknowledge that fact.

She hardly mopes, really, on the outside; her expression is as stoic as it has ever been, though perhaps her thin lips are creased downward a degree more than usual. She trots hardly more than a tail-length behind Badgermoon for their entire journey, and stills quietly when Cygnetstare does. She wants Luckypaw to be prepared for bigger opponents? Scorchpaw finally appraises her brother with a glance. He is smaller than she is, of course, for if not she would have been named a tunneler, too; but her shoulders are far too broad, and her chest too barreled, and her jaw too stubbornly set for any other course. She hasn't begun her combat training yet, really, or at least not enough to have built a strong foundation for herself now. But she thinks that she might be able to best her littermate based on her brawn alone. At least it's good for something.

Scorchpaw stands without a word, ready to act, gaze flicking back to Badgermoon as she awaits instruction.​

​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

The sun slips down across the sky, light waning, and Luckypaw thinks he might actually prefer it that way. Call it the beginnings of adjusting to the tunnels, a side effect of being around Cygnetstare, even a reminder of the gorse that once played shield to four kittens - whichever the answer, the simple truth is that the fading light is familiar, and as such it's comforting. Or, at least, it should be; out on the moors, however, it's a different matter altogether. In the tunnels, darkness is natural, something he's gained plenty of experience of even on his first outing, but on the moors? The moors are meant for daytime - or at least, that's what he thinks, so opposite of one another. If the tunnels are darkness, are Luckypaw and Frostpaw, then surely the moors must be light, must be Rumblepaw and...Scorchpaw. Scorchpaw, who so clearly won't look his way, not at all. Scorchpaw, a moor runner, and Luckypaw, a tunneler. They're together for now, until the end of this joint training session and until they crawl back into their respective nests at night, until they wake in the morning and go their separate ways again, but it doesn't feel right. Not this silence, this lack of any eye contact - they're hardly even walking beside one another, each trailing their respective mentors.

Not wanting to be caught staring, he turns his gaze away, too, alternating between watching the ground where his paws step and his surroundings. Bathed in softening colors, the moors look even more foreign than they do in broad daylight, and it makes him feel uncomfortable, out of place; this is not his realm, Luckypaw thinks, not as a tunneler. Cygnetstare is easy to look at, two-toned pelt standing out particularly well outside of the darkness of the tunnels, even as the dark begins to fade into the twilight surroundings. More than anything, her voice and scent stand out more, if only because that's really what he knows them by; will he start noticing that about others, he wonders? Will appearances begin to grow drab and uninteresting, tempered only by his other senses? Surely not - not the important ones, at least, he thinks, glancing towards Badgermoon. It's like looking at opposites, in a way, and yet they still share colors - one tall and broad, one short and thin, and yet both wreathed in black and white. Like him and Scorchpaw, almost - different statures, and each sharing white. The comparison doesn't feel right, though - there's no strange silence between the two mentors, no strained tension or mixed feelings.

Not for the first time, Luckypaw finds himself wishing he could spend more time around Badgermoon, or even Scorchstreak; the way Scorchpaw follows right at their father's heels leaves him feeling slightly hollowed out, as though he's missing out. What had they done today, he wonders? Race across the moors, check borders, chase down rabbits? He has no idea, and that - that's the heart of the issue, isn't it? He doesn't know what Badgermoon has been doing, what Scorchpaw has been doing, because it's been just the two of them, just as it's been him and Cygnetstare. There's hardly been time to catch up with one another, what with the adjusting period to new apprentice duties, and when it comes to the rest of his moor-bound family, Luckypaw feels in the dark, as though he's trying to navigate the tunnels alone with no guidance. Scorchpaw's been...different, lately, and Badgermoon's been so busy with her that it feels as if things haven't been right since before their names were called at that meeting. Badgermoon's always been busy, he tries to tell himself, handling the duties of a deputy, and yet now his daily schedule now includes Scorchpaw, following along wherever he goes.

It's strange - before his apprenticeship, he'd never particularly felt as though his time with Badgermoon was lacking, and was instead grateful whenever he did get to spend individual time with his father. What's changed, he wonders? Is it that their moments together are even fewer and far between now that Luckypaw has apprentice duties to attend to? Or is it the knowledge that Scorchpaw has access to their father whenever she wants, to learn from him and to spend her days with him? The thought is startling - well, it should be startling, and yet, he'd known all along, hadn't he? Written off his jealousy at their ceremony as a gut reaction, only in that moment, but it had crept back in, settling into his heart. It's not a comfortable feeling, and yet he thinks he doesn't feel as bad about it as he should. After all, it's only natural he'd feel a little bit jealous, right? He can't help it, really, not as he watches how natural Scorchpaw looks astride Badgermoon. And it was Scorchpaw who had started acting weird first, not Luckypaw; sending him strange glances, and now not looking at him at all. If she gets to have moments of ice, then he can admit to feeling a little jealous of her proximity to one of their parents.

Ears twitch at Cygnetstare's words, and then he swings his head around to face her, processing the words. This was going to be battle training? As Scorchpaw looks to him, he looks to her, as well. She's larger, of course; that's why Luckypaw had always wanted to team with her against their other littermates, to take advantage of her stronger frame. And he's supposed to fight against her, to stand up against her even when the difference between them is the greatest it's ever been? With a start, he realizes that just as he's been observing her, she's been assessing him, too, and it's probably the first time that she's looked at him, really looked at him, this whole time. Similarly to his littermate, he remains silent, though a slew of thoughts run tangled together through his mind. There's no way he's going to win this match, he's certain, but maybe he can learn something from it. How to fight a larger opponent, like Cygnetstare said, but maybe he'll learn something about Scorchpaw, too. About himself, even. ​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​

 

[Badgermoon]

Badgermoon had not initially been enthused that Luckypaw was apprenticed to Cygnetstare: though apparently harmless, the chimera tunneler was bizarre in a way that recalled Lambcurl and Mallowlark, and naturally gave him some pause. However, the more he watched the pink-eyed feline and the more of her interacting with his son that he observed the better he felt about her. She may be strange, but she's trustworthy, I think. Loyal, too. Thus when a request for a dual training session had been extended, he'd agreed happily - besides, Lucky and Scorch had always been close, hadn't they? They would enjoy a training session together. If the deputy knew of the tension which had erupted between his children, he did not seem inclined to acknowledge it, reclined lightly on his haunches as Cygnetstare addressed their little group. "Sounds good to me. It'll be good for you both. Luckypaw, you'll learn how to fight larger opponents, and Scorchpaw, you'll learn how to respond to Luckypaw's tactics." Badgermoon meowed with an approving nod, yellow gaze tracing the raw line of the tunneler's neck wound even as he addressed his children.

With sudden energy, he pushed himself to his paws, rolling his shoulders back and taking a deep gulp of the evening air. "Alright, let's begin. Luckypaw, if you were to face an opponent your sister's size, what would you do?" he gestured at his apprentice with one speckled paw, a tiny - though warm - smile on his lips as he waited for a response. "And Scorchpaw, you're facing an enemy who is Luckypaw's size - what's your opening move?" he knew they'd had no combat training whatsoever thus far, and hoped that his light tone and expression would encourage them to answer, even if - especially if - they weren't sure if they were right.​

 

[cygnetstare]

♱—— scorchpaw and luckypaw have followed dutifully behind them, talking less than she'd somehow expected. they were apprentices, who always seemed to be chatting, for one thing—and for another, they're siblings. she has none herself, but she would've imagined them to be talking constantly. not so; they trudge along in silence from the both of them. that's fine, she supposes. cygnetstare awaits badgermoon's instruction alongside them; though there feels to be some kind of .... disquiet between the siblings, that is neither here nor there. the deputy can handle his own apprentice, and certainly his own children; she can always ask luckypaw about what, exactly, is going on in the privacy of the tunnels later. she squints to herself, wonders if he'd have rather had his mother as a mentor, like scorchpaw has her father; well, one way or another, she was his mentor now—after all, scorchstreak had been assigned cottonpaw.

taking heed from the deputy, she seats herself on light paws as he speaks; after all, she isn't the one raising her claws today. the chimera can see badgermoon's eyes settling on the still-raw slice across her neck, and they cannot blame him—it is the visual display of a mistake they will not make again, and one they will teach luckypaw not to as well. letting yourself get pinned down by such a large cat; it was dangerous, it could be deadly, and it nearly had been for her. she watches the large tom stand again, inhale the evening air; she remains seated lightly for now, ready to rise should it be needed. badgermoon opens the training session with a question for each of them; content to wait for their answers before she herself contributes, they watch in silence.

they certainly know the answer now: don't get pinned down.

---

┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:

• ooc: ——
  

• 

• ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze) she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 34 ☾s —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan. —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• battle stuff goes here for fights

​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

Learning how to deal with larger opponents, learning how to deal with smaller opponents - it all sounds well and good coming from Badgermoon, somehow. Not you're going to lose to your sister or you're going to win against your brother, even if Luckypaw is sure it's plain to see, supposedly even-matched as they are without any training. Still, he has no plans to roll over and give up without a fight, even if he feels prickly to the core with unease. As the deputy's eyes turn to Cygnetstare, he, too, finds himself glancing towards his mentor, taking in what must be the sight that draws everybody in these days. It's not unfamiliar, their stretching scar, but it's not exactly his favorite thing in the world to study, too much of a reminder of how even SkyClan, so full of kittypets, cannot be underestimated. And that's why this session is so important, isn't it? Knowing not to underestimate SkyClan is one thing, but actually having the skill to put that knowledge into use is another entirely; and, it's not hard to imagine that Scorchpaw may one day face a cat much smaller, their situations reversed yet not so dissimilar in the end. Not wanting to linger longer than necessary, Luckypaw's gaze trails up from Cygnetstare's throat, trying to glean anything from her expression. How much does she expect from him already, he wonders?

The moment breaks easily with Badgermoon's sudden movement, drawing his full attention for the real start of the training session. Having watched the occasional spar in camp before, he almost expects an order for them to start the mock battle immediately, but one never comes - instead, a question is posed for each of them. For a moment, a bitter part of him wonders if this is how training with Badgermoon always goes, if Scorchpaw will answer with the practiced ease of having fielded numerous other scenarios before, but he tries to shut that line of thought down in favor of answering his own question. The obvious answer - use his size to his advantage, use their size to their disadvantage - is there, but that doesn't really answer the question, does it? Using size in any way could have a variety of different applications, so surely it's those applications that are being sought out. "I would..." he starts, wracking his brain for the right words. "I would try to be small. Er, smaller - use that to my advantage. Make it harder to hit me, stay light on my paws - you know, be a smaller target to hit."

Surely there's something else he could do, as just dodging wouldn't win a fight, though that seems it's all his mind wants to supply. "Um, and I'd try not to get caught up, since they'd have more power behind their strikes. Let them get tired out, maybe?" The last idea is thrown out as more of a question than a real answer, and Luckypaw sends glances towards both Badgermoon and Cygnetstare, hoping he's not totally off-base with the suggestion. As he's been thinking over his answer, he hasn't been able to help looking over Scorchpaw, examining her bulk compared to his thinner frame, just as he'd done when their objective for the session had been announced. If she was ever to meet his eye, he won't linger, gaze turning to studiously study some bit of grass to fuel his thoughts instead, though he couldn't exactly say why it felt wrong to be caught staring in such a manner, especially when it's actually warranted. Perhaps it has something to do with viewing her as some sort of opponent, looking only to how they could do harm to one another in a real fight, though that thought is hardly recognized by Luckypaw at the time, as he's instead left to ponder in silence as the session continues around him.​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​