D
DUSTYFOOT
Guest
Luckily for the thick, pristine dustiness of his pelt, the tunneler patrol is under the earth when the rain hits. He doesn't quite know how long ago it had started. What was a beautiful golden midday some time ago has faded to the black silence of dirt, and then into a steady, deadly, drip. His paw hits one muddy patch. Nothing of concern. Then his whiskers catch a drop. Even in the dark, Dustyfoot's face scrunches with concern. A moment later– plunk! It hits the top of his head. He stops abruptly. "Do you feel that?" Concern is hot in his voice, like brittle sunshine or a summer storm about to break. He lifts his head up to touch the roof of the tunnel, and hesitates. It's damp. "We should turn around. Find another tunnel to work on until this passes."
They border unknown territory. Something unexplored, an offshoot of their tunnel to RiverClan's bridge that had not yet been fully mapped and understood. Are they really so close to the surface that the water would seep through after only a few short hours of rain? Anxiety has his tail flicking, likely right before the nose of whoever follows him.
They border unknown territory. Something unexplored, an offshoot of their tunnel to RiverClan's bridge that had not yet been fully mapped and understood. Are they really so close to the surface that the water would seep through after only a few short hours of rain? Anxiety has his tail flicking, likely right before the nose of whoever follows him.
- OOC. loose use of this prompt: “Quickly falling April showers lead to rapidly rising May flowers.” A sunny day quickly takes a turn for the worst! What is your characters solution to passing time with others on a rainy day?
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𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓. HE - HIM - HIS. HARDWORKING TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN. ——— hardworking and swift of foot with a dirt-colored pelt fit for the finest of tunnelers, dustyfoot is an overall overage warrior despite his hard, excellently done work. he holds himself to a forgettable standard. ╱ PENNED BY REVELATIONS
a small seal sepia chimera with dull green-gold eyes. his thick fur gives him the illusion of greater size, quickly dispelled by the sight of his bottlebrush pelt disappearing into the rabbit holes of his clan's territory. made of dark colors darkened further by the dusting of dirt and packed mud, the only part of him that gleam are his teeth through endless chatter and his eyes in their clever gleam. -
"speech"