tunnels IN THE DANGER ZONE [tunnel patrol]

༄༄ The deputy’s self-appointed task is one that she regrets almost immediately; no matter the reason, Sootspot remains entirely insufferable. A part of her wishes that he would just take the final step over the invisible line that she’s drawn, and give Sunstar a reason to drive him out like Snakehiss. The two don’t seem to like one another, but perhaps they would get along if their survival depended on it. Scorchstreak, for one, would like to find out if only to get the both of them out of her pelt. Yet Sootspot, at least, sticks like a burr, tangling and irritating and seemingly impossible to remove. She is glad that she has Pinkpaw with her, a friendly and loyal face to offset those who might turn against her at any moment. It isn’t until the patrol is halfway down the length of the tunnel that she realizes she’s surrounded herself with cats once loyal to Sootstar. Marmotbite had fled the mad queen's rule rather quickly, and so she receives less scrutiny, but she is not free of suspicion altogether. She still chose Sootstar for a time, still remained in her WindClan before fleeing. She is still tainted, in a way. But she does not bear the same traitorous mark as Sootstar's own children. Bluefrost is lucky that she had found the good sense to stand down and stay silent; Scorchstreak had only begun to trust her again before Snakehiss' outburst.

The calico shakes her head, the movement invisible in pitch-darkness, and returns her focus to the task at hand. The fires have rendered the territory aboveground all but unusable, driving prey off and preventing moor runners from hunting properly. The clan's tunnelers are more important now than ever before. Much of their prey has fled underground—but so, too, have many more thretaening creatures of the territory. "Keep an ear out for danger," she calls over a scarred shoulder to the cats behind her. "I imagine a few things took shelter down here when the moors went up in flame. Badgers, foxes, snakes..." She hates to think of running into any sort of predator down here, when she hardly trusts the cats at her back, but it just may come to that. To their right, she can hear heavy movement down a branching tunnel. There is no sight, only darkness that expands as far as she can see, but still she squints before turning to her apprentice. "Pinkpaw, do you sense anything?"

  • ooc: @PINKPAW @BLUEFROST @Marmotbite. @SOOTSPOT
  • 77176203_fqHtotZWqpHc9RA.png
    SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
    small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stoic and shrewd, but clearly cares deeply for her clan.
    mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
    mentor to pinkpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    penned by foxlore
 
Pinkpaw doesn't see what Scorchstreak sees... It wasn't just her, Scorchstreak, a nd a bunch of traitors... It was Her, Scorchstreak, her friends, and... dumb Sootspot. Maybe Sootspot just wouldn't talk at all today, cause whenever he did, it usually sucked. And Pinkpaw already called him stupid once, she doesn't think she'd be allowed to do it again... Maybe Scorchstreak would give her permission in case of an emergency? Good thing Bluefrost was her friend, not his... She was smarter than that, right? Even if she had been kinda weird the other day...

But um, nevermind that! They need prey, and even if Sootspot can't talk good, he can hunt good! She creeps through the tunnels alongside her clanmates, nodding seriously as Scorchstreak gives her warning. Badgers, foxes, snakes... Pinkpaw was scared of tunnel monsters when she was older, but there already were tunnel monsters without her have to make up evil beasts with six legs and four eyes! She almost says something silly, like... they can fit down here? But foxes and badgers literally live in the dirt... They've been doing it before cats did, probably. Pinkpaw scrunches her face together so she can mold it into a braver one.

Her whiskers graze the sides of the tunnels, something that she didn't think was super duper gross anymore, just a little bit... Her ears twitch, trying to listen for rabbit hops and snake slithers... She thinks she feels something... Could it be a really big hare? Pinkpaw thinks they deserve a big feast after everything... " Umm... I think something's kinda close to us... " she answers. " But I'm not sure if it's prey... I really hope so... "
 



To keep one's friends close and one's enemies closer was a sound strategy, but in the paws of someone he truly despised, Sootspot could only find flaws. His frequent delegation to the back of the patrol was the safest place for him, should Scorchstreak wander headfirst into a badger, he would not be able to clamber over the other patrol members to save her (but with no Gods to pray to, it seemed the only way to manifest the possibility was if he made it possible). At the back of the patrol, the chimera's attention settled upon the various forks in their path, nostrils flaring at each change in scent within the darkness. Smoke had trespassed even down here a time ago, regardless of the company, it was no small relief to detect the smell of mulch and mushrooms once more. Just as he began to enjoy the silence, the voice in front ruined it, sending his tufted ears back in a display of annoyance concealed by shadows. I imagine a few things took shelter down here when the moors went up in flames... The other started, an acrid taste to the back of the chimera's throat as the other stated the obvious.

Badgers, foxes, snakes.... 'Deputies', Sootspot added on, deciding it may have been the only way the tortoiseshell faced no backlash for humiliating both leader and clan before their enemy. A movement broke him out of his bitter brood, loud enough to echo in a tunnel ahead, loud enough to make Sootspot's head snap forward. His tail brushed against the earth lighter than a feather's touch as he took a step back, waiting for a roar or a hiss or anything. It was silence as Pinkpaw answered and, left to hypothesise, the chimera could only hope for the best. "Perhaps we should head back to a more centralised branching point and ambush whatever it may be together," he suggested what he thought was a good idea, whiskers twitching in his discomfort.


 
MY BODY'S COVERED IN TEETH MARKS
YOUR BITES WORSE THAN YOUR BARK
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marmotbite & 17 moons & demigirl & she/they/it & windclan tunneler
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Honestly marmotbite has other things preoccupying her mind than scorchstreaks distrust of her - unnecessary though it may be. Mind wanders to soot stained bundles squirming about the nursery, thoughts of responsibility chasing her paws. Motherhood is not something she's ever fancied after all - no, she'd settled any urges she may have had long ago, when her interest in her blue-one had first reared its head and she'd decided 'her - she's the one for me'. And yet, needs must - and starclan must be laughing at her, because it'd happened anyways, hadn't it?

The tiny tunneler sticks close to sootspot - and while sure, she was o loyalist to his mother, neither was she particularly fond of Sunstar or Scorchstreak. Or most of her clanmates, actually - as much as windclan had become her new home, she found herself only loyal to one. Still, sootspot and cottonpaw however were certainly the closest she had to friends other than her mate, and while she wouldn't join him in digging his own grave with each push of their leaderships buttons, she wasn't going to abandon ship just yet.

Pawsteps pause as Pinkpaws words wring out - the blue she-cats pelt bristling and back arching at the thought of whatever might lay ahead, her own jaws parting in the hopes of catching even the slightest scent. The not-knowing was far worse than actually facing down whatever lay ahead - would it be prey or predator? Fox or badger? Rabbit or mole? She didn't know, and that was nerve wracking. Head bobs at her friends suggestion, eyes flashing unseen - " Mmm..... surely best ta' ambush whatever star-damned thing is down here with us, "

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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T H E R E S A D O G I N Y O U R H E A R T
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Bluefrost is silent, the tail-end of the tunneling patrol that ventures into the dark depths beneath the moorland. Her head is bowed, eyes on the earth that squishes up between her paw pads. She can feel Scorchstreak’s distaste, even from the forefront of the patrol—and she wonders how it does not scorch her brother’s pelt as it does her own. She had had a lapse in judgment, with Snakehiss—hadn’t she? Part of her is torn even now. Should she have followed the foolish dark-pelted tom into exile? Should she have stood her ground, honored her mother’s name? Her steps feel aimless in the darkness. She has only made things worse for herself.

“Keep an ear out for danger,” Scorchstreak says to the cats behind her. Bluefrost’s tattered ear twitches in acknowledgment. Through the dark funnel of a branching trail, there’s movement, bulky and unwavering. Pinkpaw comments that she hopes it’s prey, but Bluefrost tastes the air and frowns. Sootspot suggests an ambush, which Marmotbite quickly agrees with. The gray she-cat bites the bottom of her lip, her tail swishing uneasily behind her.

Whatever we do, we should act quickly,” she murmurs. “From the sound of it, it is getting closer.


  • ooc:
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  • Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
    — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
    — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.


 
༄༄ Her apprentice listens around for potential danger, but it seems Pinkpaw cannot decipher what exactly is hunkering down underground. It does sound nearby—Scorchstreak leans closer to the sound, and hears the shuffling noise grow closer. "That isn’t prey," she responds, a scowl crossing her expression. She hates to burst Pinkpaw’s bubble, but the apprentice really should be better than this at distinguishing predator from prey. Perhaps they have been spending a bit too much time on battling, and not enough on the basics of tunnel hunting and patrolling. Scorchstreak makes a note to circle back to that thought later on, when there is no great unknown beast lumbering about.

Her lead favorite clanmate is the one to speak up next, and he actually offers up a plan, one which Marmotbite seems to agree with. Bluefrost—well, the calico doubts Bluefrost would care what they did, so long as it freed them of danger. She is right; the creature is getting closer, so they should act now. "Great idea, Sootspot." That is the farthest she will go to compliment the tom, so he should take what praise he can get while she offers it to him. The thought of being thankful to him in any way leaves a sour taste in her mouth, but she will not deny that his plan is a good one. She only hopes that he will go through with it—and not leave them all high and dry, trapped in the dark with a badger or a fox.

"Turn around and go back the way we came. Be quick, but silent." Her tail whispers a path along the tunnel’s wall, feeling for the markers she knows will be there—ridges and bumps in the dirt, anchor points to guide her movement through the darkness. At this point the deputy is unsure which patrol member is in the very back, so she calls out in a low voice, "Let us know when we reach a branching point.."

  • ooc: whoever posts next can start the actual ambush, it’s a badger 🦡
  • 77176203_fqHtotZWqpHc9RA.png
    SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
    small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stoic and shrewd, but clearly cares deeply for her clan.
    mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
    mentor to pinkpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    penned by foxlore
 



"I am full of them," Sootspot's whiskers twitched as he smiled towards Scorchstreak, the subtle praise of Marmotbite and the Deputy doing little to temper an ego that reveled in an opportunity to be shown. The gloating did not last long, with the creature approaching quickly and the tortoiseshell hurrying them along, the puffed-up chest of the Tunneler would simply have to be enjoyed by himself and himself alone. His belly pressed against the damp earth, Sootspot swiveled quickly on his haunches and crawled back the path he'd once come from, the sensitive hairs across his body bristling against each wall. Long fur was a burden to clean, but it did have its advantages and, sure enough, when he no longer felt the brush of a tunnel entrance on his left side, the warrior knew they were getting closer to a fork. Scorchstreak's whisper reached his tufted ears with the grace of a dying cow, the idea of teaming up sending a ripple of disgust down his spine that sent his tail quivering in a shudder. There were four perfectly good meat shields between himself and the stranger, but being the sole survivor of a tragedy was likely to bring more trouble than it was worth.

With his reluctance dissipating the more he pressed on, eventually, the walls around Sootspot seemed to expand. He turned his head. "This is it," he mewed quietly, knowing that Scorchstreak had little choice but to trust him. "I shall take first left," before he finished his sentence, the chimera disappeared into the aforementioned tunnel, laying flat against the earth as the others got into position. It didn't take long after that before Sootspot heard the snuffling of a large nose and the raking of claws atop the well-preserved tunnels of his home. For a moment, the clacking stopped, then, it grew louder in his ears, chipping the rocks of his chosen tunnel as if they were as soft as fleas. Sootspot covered his mouth with a black as it got closer and closer. Then, there was silence; hot air was blown onto the Tunneler's face in a torturously slow rhythm, each one threatening his mouth to open in a plea. He could not see the hulking beast, but the musty smell was enough to tell him what was breathing on him; he dared not make a noise when face to face with a badger.

The seconds were as agonising as minutes, knowing any minute now he may meet his fate by the paws of such an ugly creature. The end never seemed so apparent... until it opted to shuffle back toward the crossroads, either distracted by something else or opting against exploring a tunnel with allegedly nothing in it. When Sootspot was certain he would not meet a black and white face, he charged forwards, his teeth clamping around the badger's back leg, as stumpy and as thick as a tree, he didn't know if it would feel such a thing. All the same, the beast let out a growling whine and tried to turn, swiping at thin air when the Tunneler had already advanced backward. He was glad the thing made a battle cry for him, for his throat was too dry to call his clanmates to action himself - StarClan, he should've ran.