tunnels lay me gently in the cold dark earth // dirt club

curlewnose

anything can happen if you want it enough
Jan 5, 2023
53
13
8

"leave those snails alone, they've got problems of their own"

Curlewnose liked the dirt; he was a tunneler, of course he did. He liked to think that others liked the underground of the moors as much as he did.

Obviously, this meant a secret hideout was needed for all his dirt-loving brethren.

He told Sootstar first, of course. He didn’t want the she-cat to think he was overthrowing her. She was welcome in the hideout too, as the official first dirt lover. Quietly, through whispers in camp and chats in the tunnels, Curlew told all the tunnelers about the hideout. Tucked between Outlook Rock and the Thunderpath, the tom had built a little den half under the stars and half under the ground. He’d dug the hollow himself, and he used the extra dirt as a floor so that even under the stars he could feel the dirt beneath him. Curlew even used moss and grasses and shrubs to obscure the outer section, just in case a dirt-hater came around.

Then, it was time. Curlew sounded the call for the first official meeting of the Dirt Club. He sat just outside the hideout as the sun brushed the distant treetops and waited for the others to arrive.


{ooc: welcome to dirt club! if you can fit in the ground, you can join (sorry badgermoon/other broad shouldered cats)}

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  • Crying
Reactions: LAMBCURL.
Elegant, august as she may think herself, Scorchstreak does not believe that she is above any of her clanmates. They all came from dirt, and to dirt they shall eventually return. Dirt, with all its magnificence, crawling with worms and bugs and litter—it’s the perfect substance, the glue that binds the world together. They all need dirt to live, to walk upon.

So it only makes sense that the calico is there, coming to a stop before the beautiful den that Curlewnose had crafted for all the dirt-loving cats of the clan. She rejoices in its placement—the perfect location, this truly is. A hideout for tunnelers, for those who enjoy living amongst other creatures of the dirt. "It’s gorgeous," she says in an awed tone, blazing eyes wide, fascination painted in broad strokes across her expression. The blue-patched tunneler has truly outdone himself.
[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]
 
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"leave those snails alone, they've got problems of their own"

The first arrival! Curlewnose wiggled in response to Scorchstreak’s praise. ”Thank you! I wanted it to be as close to the dirt and the stars as possible.” The blue-and-white tom blushed, his tail still waving back and forth happily. He took a moment to survey his work, taking pride in the soil-strewn hideaway. Curlew couldn’t wait for others to arrive. He hoped it would be a welcome break from the chaos surrounding the clan.

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Well, he'd been puzzled at first... What need was there for a hideout, when all of the tunnels could function as one? Very few untrained souls could navigate without meeting certain doom or getting lost... (before meeting certain doom). He knew of cats who stood bold enough that even suggesting they try an enter one would never be more than a joke or a silly dream– the kind where you shrink down to the size of your prey and lived your life as they did.

He still did not understand. He still did not understand how this was 'secret,' when anyone who wanted to come could come; but he did understand that it was beautiful. His heart reaches out to the very design of it all– fitting, unbelievably so. The stars were what had drawn him outside to begin with, but the tunnels had pulled him inside in much a different way. One new world, and then another, it had been. But oh, he did wish he could enjoy the bright gleaming sky alongside it, some days...

And now he could! He can spot a worm nearby, one he reaches for the moment it is close enough. Did they too seek the stars? Scorchstreak echoes what he thinks exactly. He agrees with the smallest of chirps. And Curlewnose speaks of his process, combining the dirt with the stars... Lambcurl blinks. "But, the dirt is everywhere..." he tells him, as if the tom did not know.
 

"leave those snails alone, they've got problems of their own"

”It is!” Curlew meowed with a grin. ”But how often do we get to stand on it without brush or grass in the way and look up at the stars?” The blue-and-white tom gazed up, eyes squinting to see the pinpricks of light. He was comfortable on the moors, but this felt like home. A soft sigh escaped his muzzle, and he basked in the feeling of starlight and soil against his fur.

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