private Going to EEBY DEEBY || Mole hunting

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Voidwhisker

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Ah, mole hunting. That's what Molewhisker considers anyone looking for him to be doing! But today, he and his trusty pal Lambcurl were on the hunt for an actual mole! All for some silly ceremony where kits realized they aren't leeches anymore and start eating real food.

Sure, it was a big deal for some cats, but Molewhisker didn't care much for it. Congratulations, you can eat food now. Big deal.

But he was trusted with this mission, and so he would find the best mole he could. He didn't want to spoil Sootstar's brats further, but if they criticized his catch and called it not good enough, he was going to start seeing red.

"Alrighty Lambcurl.... Let's find us a MOLE." He said, creeping through the tunnel, sniffing for his quarry.

"It won't be as good as me, but sometimes we have to be happy with second best~" He added.

Yes. He was the best mole in these tunnels.

@LAMBCURL.
​
 
His spine prickles with anticipation. What a promise, what a purpose, grand as this. The true cause of their task, he did not so much mind, nor question. All that he knew was he is to do his job, and do it well for Sootstar.

Kind Molewhisker was resigned to his fate as well, even if he seemed not near as enthused. Fine, of course. He was not so selfish as to push his own desires upon others. So long as their time is offered, regardless, they are worth something. Lambcurl crawls close behind the tom, mindful of where they've come from. Wouldn't that be some small horror, to find their prize, but not their way back. Disappointment, surely, for all parties involved. Perhaps their exiles would be deemed necessary, and oh, he's not sure he could blame them, in that case.

No, failure was not an option. He accepts this with fluttering pride, rather than any sort of anxiety. He hums along with the tom's words, trance-like. The statement is straightforward, and therefore, so is his agreement. The tunnels are where his eyes may open wide, and, indeed, they flare curiously with his words. "Hmm? Would you rather be feasted on instead...?" His tone does not imply alarm, but rather, genuine curiosity. It was far too late in leaf-bare to consider it, of course; but curiosity, nonetheless...

The tunnels have a sort of idle-drone. Always there, felt with curled whiskers along the walls... Not so loud, just yet... Not so close, just yet... "Moles tuck themselves deep..." Deep in the earth, where the ground hasn't grown cold and hard. Cold... "Will only get colder..." A willowy rasping; ghostly presence. The excitement keeps him warm, but it would not last forever. "Low please. Lower... Listen."​
 


"Oh no no, I am too good to be eaten." He said. Yes, someone as excellent as he was too good for the wretched mouths of this clan. Which, thankfully, Windclan wasn't a clan of cannibals.

"Though of course..... A little nibble from a pretty molly or tom wouldn't be minded~" a sing songy tone he took, and a flirt it was indeed. A strange one, but..... Molewhisker wasn't exactly normal, now was he.

"Yes, we must go even deeper...." he agreed.

Deeper and deeper into the abyss they crawled.... A winding network of burrows and dens....Yes. He lived for this. Traversing the earths maw in the cloak of darkness to reap it's rewards.

"Soon.... Soon we will hear the scraping of claws against the earth...."

A whiff... Yes, a whiff. Mole whiff. "Yes.... One has been by here...!" He whispered. "An older scent...But we will find it...."

Poor little mole, blissfully unaware of it's fate. It should rejoice, for soon it will be claimed by the void, the darkness in which all things begin and end....

All for some kits first taste of meat!

He thought it was funny. He wouldn't laugh, but he really thought it was funny.
​
 
This, he may agree with; this, he may not... No cat was too good for any one fate... It would meet them half-achingly, it would meet them wholeheartedly. It is only a matter of time, and of course, neither of them had such say. Lambcurl nearly expects the ground to tumble out from under his feet in reply to such a comment– ironic as it would be. But it soes not happen. That is fine. He is happy to have Molewhisker around for as long as the world deemed it so. His expression does not waver, not yet...

Though, his eyes wouuld go wide, with the next thing he said. "Oh..." So death was welcome, depending on the teeth that brought it. Absently, he wonders if he would fall into such a category...

The earth is warmer the deeper they go... And the deeper they went, the clearer it became that such tunnels had not been dug by feline claws. A glimpse into other worlds. Intruding, almost. In places, even he, blob of something small, had to press in on himself. The burrows that opened up seemed all the more spacious in comparison.

Small and pink, his nose twitches at the scent of something new, and their happenstance is confirmed by his companion. Noted in his mind, then. this was mole. Earthy and strange, a hint of bitterness not all prey seemed to carry with it. Lambcurl hums a sound. Determination, maybe. Excitement, maybe... The thought of cornering comes to mind, but ultimately is not ideal. He did not know these tunnels well enough... could not guarantee that the next time Molewhisker saw him, he would not be a corpse... They crawl forth, and the grime grows thicker in the air... "Getting stronger... is that it?"​
 
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