- Jan 15, 2023
- 608
- 168
- 43
༄༄ In the tumultuous rush of emotions that came with speaking to their wayward kit while a battle raged around them, Scorchstreak had not felt the absence of their apprentice in any significant way. And in the aftermath, they had simply not considered Pinkpaw at all, not when Rumblerain ran away with Granitepelt and the remnants of Sootstar’s clan. They had not seen their apprentice amongst those who laid dead on the ground, and that was good enough to settle their concern. They had regrouped with her later, of course, relieved and grateful that they hadn’t lost a second apprentice to the will of the stars.
Today, the tunneler and their younger counterpart are out on patrol. The tunnels, surprisingly, are not in terrible shape—but it is obvious that Sootstar did not have as many tunnelers to spare once she chased half the clan from their home. Grimacing, Scorchstreak swipes at a leaf that’s found its way into the darkness, and their claws sink through it with ease. It tears into two and flutters back to the ground. She sighs, and sweeps the leaf aside with her tail. She’ll collect it on the way back, along with the rest of the mess that lies around the tunnels.
As they walk, Scorchstreak remains silent for the most part, chewing at the inside of her cheek. She responds to any of Pinkpaw’s chattering with only half-aware noises of agreement, plus the occasional unimpressed glance, and says little in the way of conversation. Then they reach a point in the tunnels where the earth below and above them turns to clay, and Scorchstreak speaks up, in a low and stilted tone. "Pinkpaw," she hesitates, paws twitching against the ground.
She cannot see the younger tunneler, grayed-out fur blending in with the shadows that surround them both, but she attempts to meet Pinkpaw’s eyes anyway."You’ve been very brave, through all of this. I’m proud of you." The words roll off of her tongue—they’re not exactly what she had intended to say, but they hold the same meaning. She is thankful that the younger calico remains at her side, not following in the pawsteps of a traitor or lying cold in the dirt somewhere. "I’m glad that you’re my apprentice, even if you don’t like being a tunneler." Scorchstreak is not a cat known for lying; her words ring true in the darkness, a genuine smile forming on her muzzle. It has hardly been three months since Pinkpaw was made an apprentice, and already she’s witnessed countless horrors. Being a tunneler seems the least of her worries now, but she doubts that Pinkpaw’s concern over it would fade so easily.
// @PINKPAW
Today, the tunneler and their younger counterpart are out on patrol. The tunnels, surprisingly, are not in terrible shape—but it is obvious that Sootstar did not have as many tunnelers to spare once she chased half the clan from their home. Grimacing, Scorchstreak swipes at a leaf that’s found its way into the darkness, and their claws sink through it with ease. It tears into two and flutters back to the ground. She sighs, and sweeps the leaf aside with her tail. She’ll collect it on the way back, along with the rest of the mess that lies around the tunnels.
As they walk, Scorchstreak remains silent for the most part, chewing at the inside of her cheek. She responds to any of Pinkpaw’s chattering with only half-aware noises of agreement, plus the occasional unimpressed glance, and says little in the way of conversation. Then they reach a point in the tunnels where the earth below and above them turns to clay, and Scorchstreak speaks up, in a low and stilted tone. "Pinkpaw," she hesitates, paws twitching against the ground.
She cannot see the younger tunneler, grayed-out fur blending in with the shadows that surround them both, but she attempts to meet Pinkpaw’s eyes anyway."You’ve been very brave, through all of this. I’m proud of you." The words roll off of her tongue—they’re not exactly what she had intended to say, but they hold the same meaning. She is thankful that the younger calico remains at her side, not following in the pawsteps of a traitor or lying cold in the dirt somewhere. "I’m glad that you’re my apprentice, even if you don’t like being a tunneler." Scorchstreak is not a cat known for lying; her words ring true in the darkness, a genuine smile forming on her muzzle. It has hardly been three months since Pinkpaw was made an apprentice, and already she’s witnessed countless horrors. Being a tunneler seems the least of her worries now, but she doubts that Pinkpaw’s concern over it would fade so easily.
// @PINKPAW
