tunnels DIRTY TOWN [➤] advancing tunneling project


Sootstar kicks dirt back at @BLUEPAW , the tunneler apprentice working on packing it into the walls while the leader focused on continuing the tunnel.

The project to get the new tunnel leading to the twoleg bridge has been severely delayed. Between many of her tunnelers departing on the journey, the run-in with the badger, yellow-cough, and the rogues, the clan has barely had time to advance the project. Today Sootstar hopes to kickstart it again, but now it was unlikely they’d have it finished before leaf-bare came and went. Frustrating, but it was the poor cards WindClan has been dealt.

”I think we might be approaching clay.” Sootstar sighs to the patrol, scooping back another pawful of dirt. ”That won’t be fun to push through.” Typically clay was much thicker and difficult to dig out, Sootstar is certain that as she pulls back dirts she’s also pushing through small clumps of the irritating soil. ”I’m thinking… ugh. No. I don’t think we’ll be able to avoid this.” Even if they did try to turn the tunnel now they were too far in to completely miss the clay patch. Bracing themselves and pushing through it was likely the only thing they could do here even if it was not preferable.
  • » SootSootstar
    » WindClan Leader
    » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
    » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
    » Excels in quick, short moves.
    » Fights to kill and maim
    » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 


It was a genuine relief, being down in the tunnels once more after spending such a long time away from them. Rattleheart's absence had been out of necessity, but that hadn't made being stuck in the badger set and then in camp any easier, and he was eager to get back to work. Even with all of the tension that had been plaguing Windclan as of late, at least tunneling was one area where he could prove his usefulness. So-called traitor or not, he knew he was a vital asset to this particular project, alongside all of his other fellow tunnelers - particularly Scorchstreak.

His head was down when he heard Sootstar's frustrated sigh, paws busying themselves with padding down the flooring of the newly forming tunnel and packing support into the walls. An annoyed expression jumped onto his face as he heard her, though his anger was focused more on the earth around them rather than the leader herself. He was eager to try and think of a way around it, but... Sootstar was right. It was unlikely they'd be able to just maneuver around the clay when they were already so far into the task at hand. "It might be a good idea to have the largest of us at the front, to make digging through the clay easier." Not that any of them were particularly massive - that sort of went against the whole tunneler job. Still, they could probably do with someone a little heftier than Sootstar's fluffy but small form digging things out.
[ PENNED BY EO ]
 


Sootspot was somewhat grateful to have been given an apprentice after the war against the rogues had abated. Tunnelers were WindClan's most valuable assets; spies, messengers, hunters and assassins all in one, but a child would not have taken any of that in had it been stated while stuck in sodden marshlands. In Sootstar's presence, he spoke little to his Downypaw, aside from the occasional gesture of a tail or nod of a head, orders to dig this and move that, all in the name of progress. A creature speaks in front of him and the chimera's laugh was like the bark of a dog. "Ah, cast your eyes away from me then," a smile appeared upon his muzzle as he spoke, wide as a badger's grin. There was malice behind it, if he were his mother, he would not have turned his back to Rattleheart. "Height and strength were given to the moor-runners, not to me." His belly was low to the ground, and his limbs, though lithe, could not reach as far as the other WindClanner's with each stride. The tunnels were his home, but he was best navigating those that had already been built.

[ apprentice tag: @downypaw ]


 
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Had the tunnels always felt like this - so enclosed, and so dark? Even with the occasional soft chatter from his clanmates and the ever-present scrape of paws against earth, Luckypaw still finds himself unsettled in a way only reminiscent of his very first minutes belowground. Even knowing @cygnetstare is never far from his side, it's not quite enough to still his thumping heart, or to quiet his racing mind. It had been awhile, sure - a whole moon and a half, at least - but he'd just assumed that getting back into the swing of things would cure any of his lingering anxieties, and everything would go back to normal. A foolish thought, apparently; it wasn't even just the tunnels that didn't feel right ever since they got back. Things were...well, they weren't right, even if he wasn't exactly sure why. There'd hardly been mention of Badgermoon or Curlewnose, something that made Luckypaw equal parts relieved and nervous. Had they all really just moved on while the journey cats had been gone? Was it for the better, that Badgermoon's absence wasn't being paraded about, then? Honestly, he's not sure, but then again, it feels like there's a lot he's not sure about, these days.

Despite the shiver of fear in his heart, the small, burning ember saying that 'this isn't right' that flared up at the thought of the tunnel to RiverClan, he'd dutifully followed after Cygnetstare that morning, scooping aside dirt as directed - as normal, as expected - with little to add to any conversation he wasn't directly apart of. Just the very feeling of dirt beneath his paws, dirt that he had moved and packed himself, was enough to keep him on task and calm enough, and that intense focus on his duties ends with only hearing a conversation half-spoken by the time he feels able to turn his attention to whatever block they'd encountered this time. Memories of a hulking beast flash through his mind, something more sinister trying to worm its way to the front of his thoughts, though with no yowls of warning and only a continuation of soft conversation, he's only left on edge. "Clay?" he pipes up during a lull in the conversation, question mainly posed towards Cygnetstare. In truth, his training had only just begun when they'd all set out for a cure in the mountains, and while Scorchpaw had surely learned some kind of useful knowledge while they'd been gone, there weren't many learning opportunities for a tunneler along the way. At least, not that he could take advantage of, so addled with fear and the pain of a newly-crooked tail while trapped in the rocky tunnel system.​
  • OOC: --​
  • VGVREdC.png
  • 69355684_l8Wl3AJb3zHJeza.png
    - Luckykit Luckypaw
    - He/him (AFAB)
    - 7 moons (Ages on the 1st)
    - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
    - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
    - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
    - Minor powerplay allowed!
    - Penned by Hijinks​
 
Great. This is just what we needed. Clay. First the badgers and now this. Like most gathered, this was an annoyance. It wasn't like they couldn't push through clay, but as Sootstar stated this wouldn't be fun at all. Clay took far too long, but it took even longer to go back a bit and make a turn. Who knows, if they made a turn they might find themselves where they are now. Her brother Rattleheart is the first to answer and offer a suggestion, but she can't help but judge her brother for it. We're all tunnelers. We're not known for being big. Even though he did say the largest of the tunnelers she didn't think size would make much difference. They were all similar in stature that being the largest was not saying much.

It's then she hears Sootspot and interjects, "No one was even looking at you." Who asked? If she had to take who she would rather be stuck in a tunnel with she's not sure if Harbingermoon or Sootspot would be better. Sootspot seemed to think the whole world revolved around him or that cats actually looked at him and wanted to worship the very air he breathed. Harbingermoon was just snooty. To be honest I'd rather be crushed to death than stay with either. She keeps that thought to herself and brings her tail to touch Heathpaw, in order to reassure her apprentice that she was nearby and also to keep track of where her apprentice was. She was not going to allow her apprentice to return wounded to her parents.

Another voice pipes up and it is her nephew who asks his own mentor what clay is. Seeing as Cygnetstare is in charge of the boy, she doesn't bother offering an explanation. If Heathpaw was curious, then they could listen to Cygnetstare's explanation of what clay was. They were going to get nowhere discussing this and frankly she just wanted to get this over with. "Why don't we just take turns? The more we talk the less digging we do anyway. I don't wanna be stuck here all day talking about it." She had better things to do than listen to her clanmates speak about the best plan of action as if they were going to avoid clay entirely. No they weren't. They were stuck with shitty clay and they are going to have to suck it up and dig.
 
♢​ THE BEST MISTAKE YOU EVER MADE ♢​

marmotpaw & 12 moons & female & she/her & windclan tunneler apprentice

Marmotpaw simply stays quiet - listening as chatter floats about. It's not out of the ordinary, she's always been a bit more withdrawn from her clanmates - and really, being the decisive vote in their last turn had unsettled her. It'd been her fault, in a way, that they'd run across the badgers - though she bears no guilt. no, she'd paid her dues in the form of strong blows across her face when they'd fought their foe, chased it out for the moor runners to deal with instead. Instead, she looks from sootstars prideful figure to the crumbling clay at her paws, mismatched gaze glinting in the darkness, unspoken questions on the tip of her tongue. What makes clay so different? Is it really a problem, especially considering other trials they've already faced? She wants to ask these things, but quiets - it's not her place. She'll simply wait for their queen to come to a decision - she probably know best anyways.

  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • a shockingly tiny she-cat with pale blue and cream ticked tabby fur, save for a single patch covering her right eye that is brown instead, and mismatched green-orange eyes. she has heavy scarring along the entirety of her left side, from her face all the way down her chest, belly, and flank; which has been there since kithood. she is a twitchy little thing, known for her bad attitude and an unfortunate habit of biting when startled.

    physically medium && mentally medium
    non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    please attack using [b][color=#9ab973]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 
Downypaw doesn't know what clay is, but they do know Luckypaw is one of the older apprentices who'd just returned from the journey, and they're relieved that even he doesn't know what it is either. Moreover, they're grateful that it was him that dared ask, even if it was just one warbled note drifting through the crowded black.

In the blank space between Luckypaw's question and Cygnetstare's answer, they give themself a little time to ponder about the nature of clay on their own. Sootstar had said that it "won’t be fun to push through,” and Rattleheart suggested putting the largest of them to work. Downypaw doesn't think they could pick out the tallest among them if asked; they were all sort of the same size, and they hardly interacted with the tunnelers in daylight anyway. Clay is hard dirt, they decide. Diggable, but hard.

A habit: their gaze flicks towards Sootspot's voice, even in darkness. Aren't we all short and weak? they think, the beginnings of confusion, then annoyance, creeping in upon twitching whiskers. That's why WindClan relinquished them to the earth, to be seen and heard by no one, a living burial. Sootspot makes it sound like a good thing though—well, everyone except Pinkpaw makes it sound like a good thing.

The thought of their sister brings to mind their other tunneler sister. As Rabbitclaw had done before, they silently reach out and attempt to nudge @HEATHPAW 's flank with their own, hopefully letting the girl who could neither see nor hear now catch their milk-tinged scent. They didn't have to concern themself with much—Sootspot never hesitated to give them orders—so they concern themself with their sister for the time being.​
 

Dustwhisker is relieved to return to the tunnels he works best in, glad that their project is no longer delayed by recent moons' star-blighted events. But it only seems that the stars aren't finished with them, that they must deal with yet another obstacle beneath the ground.

Clay, of course. He wasn't present for the badgers - which, ultimately, might have been worse - but they've already wasted enough time in the project's delay. How much longer must they wait?

The tom's ears twitch at Sootspot's words, a snort following. "It's a gift bestowed upon none of us," he reminds his leader's son, though he's grateful for his own small stature - surely, if he had limbs as long as some of the moor-runners above ground, he'd have no clue how to use them, would be stumbling over them at all times. He's perfectly content below ground, away from hawk talons and the sun's strikes.

Taking turns, another suggests, and Dustwhisker's tail twitches in annoyance. More waiting, that really means.

"Who's got the strongest paws?" he asks instead, lifting his own to look at them.