NOT THE BEST IDEA } intro

[RATTLEHEART]

The tunnels had always provided a safe haven for Rattleheart, whenever he needed a break from the stresses of the Windclan life that lingered above. He would always be grateful for the clan that had taken he and his siblings in, but he couldn't deny that recent events had been driving him down into the tunnels more often than not. Rising tensions with not only Shadowclan but Riverclan as well were leaving him constantly on edge, a feeling he felt he could rarely discuss with others. Certainly not Scorchstreak, whose faith in Sootstar seemed unshakable no matter what she did. He'd thought once or twice about truly speaking to her candidly, but the thought of losing his sister over something like that weighed heavily enough on his mind that he just kept his muzzle shut.

Instead he let the dark silence of the tunnels absorb his thoughts, his lithe figure traveling through cramped dirt corridors like he was walking shoulder to shoulder with old friends. It was only when the scent of a rabbit reached him that he finally tensed, crouched low and focused with his maw slightly parted. There's a rush of adrenaline as he drives the scampering prey out of the tunnels and out onto the moors, just a few steps behind before he's able to throw himself forward. Relief floods through him as soon as his teeth sink into vulnerable flesh, the taste of rabbit enough to make his mouth water even when he doesn't intend on eating it.

Unfortunately, his satisfaction is short-lived.

He's used to the winds of the moors being strong, but this is something new. The gust that collides with him is enough to leave him lurching forward, shoulder colliding with the ground and jaws parting to let out a grunt of pain. It was lucky he'd already killed the rabbit, or the sheer force of the wind would've allowed it to dash away easily. There's no steadiness to his paws when he gets back up again, grabbing the rabbit once more and practically flinging himself back down into the tunnels. By the time he gets back to camp his fur is sticking up in unruly spikes, shoulder aching and his face set in an expression of annoyance rather than his usual anxiety.

His catch is deposited into the prey pile before he sits, trying and failing to tend to his wind-mussed fur before he finally spits. "I thought the wind was going to carry me all the way over to the fish-brains... where did this even come from?"
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[cedarbark.]

❝ I DON'T WANNA HURT EM' ✧°.☀ ————————————
The winds had caused a change in Cedarbark's mentality. It seemed it was affecting everyone differently. Of course, he was too- his normal running patterns were, well, knocked astray. His own fur was mussed and tussled, though it seemed the tom didn't mind, his eyes closed as he tried to keep the peace inside of his brain normal. The sound of someone coming from the tunnels twitched his ears, and his head turned towards them. He rumbled quietly, his voice thick from lack of use. "I'm not sure. Are you alright?" Cedarbark pushed himself to his paws, stretching his body out from where he had been sitting. He stepped over to the smaller half of the conversation, ears twitching. Finally, he lowered his nose, smelling the rabbit. "Regardless, it's a good catch." Ah, ever the conversationalist Cedarbark.

Cedarbark turned away from the pile, his head tilting up towards the sky, the wind still whipping and howling over the moors. A soft sigh left him, and he finally turned his head to lick at a piece of fur that had been sticking up since the last time Cedarbark had been out earlier in the day. Thoughts crossed and clouded his mind. The fish-brains. Riverclan. As if it direct his thoughts, he picked his head up, head turned in the direction of the neighboring clan. Though, Neighbor was a tough word to apply to them- perhaps they were close to warring entities with a shared border. He wasn't sure the best way to describe them, wracking his brain for a term. Cedarbark spaced back out almost as soon as he had started the conversation with Rattleheart.

"speech"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BUT I DID, I'M IN A FIT OF RAGE ❞ ​

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[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 It is meant to be a season of growth, but the onset of this ferocious wind has stripped plants from the soil and branches from the trees lining the thunderpath. It creates projectiles of twigs, and even the tall spires of grass become whiplike when a powerful gust strikes. If this wind worsens even further, most of us may be stranded in camp while our tunnelers risk their safety to hunt where we cannot. The tunnels may be safer than the open moors, but it does not remove the issue of the journey there and back—

Which is precisely what comes to mind when Wolfsong spies Rattleheart. His fur is disheveled and a glower set into facial features. He glances at Cedarbark, similarly ruffled in pelt by the wind, though not quite in spirit— he does not seem agitated as Rattleheart does. "It may soon be time to remain within camp once more," he comments ruefully. "We do not need to lose more warriors to the gorge. But Cedarbark is right— it is a good catch. Impressive the rabbit didn't blow away from you." He has no answers for that question, however. Back in the land of his birth, the worst weather seemed to come over the tops of the mountains, but there are no such sights here.
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[SCORCHSTAR]

The whipping winds do not bother the calico much, in all honesty. She tries to spend a skittle time aboveground as possible, now that she’s back on duty, and she’s lucky to remain sheltered from the worst of the weather. Others of the clan, though—and most notably the moor runners—seem to be having a terrible time of it all. From her position, poking her head out from the nursery’s entrance, she watches her sibling return to their gorse-walled camp. He carries a certainly hard-earned catch, but Rattleheart looks annoyed rather than prideful. He grumbles about the wind, asking where it had come from, and the calico slinks from her place, flicking her tail in a gesture for her kits to follow if they wish.

She moves to stand before her sibling, muzzle quirking into a half-smile at the sight of their catch. "The weather has gotten terrible recently," she comments, narrowed golden eyes glaring up at the sky as though she’ll find the answer there. Then Wolfsong suggests that the clan may have to remain confined to their camp once again, and she grimaces. "I certainly hope not," she says. The winds are dangerous, but a majority of her work is done underground, tucked safely away from the howling winds. Besides, Scorchstreak has missed being outside of camp. She worries for her kits, though—they’re small, hardly scraps of fur even at two months old. Will the winds toss them around, if she doesn’t keep a close eye on them?​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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[Bluepool]

To say she hadn't noticed the bad turn of weather lately would be an understatement. The wind whipped at her fur relentlessly, making it appear as if she had a bad case of nest-fur. Like she had been tossing and turning in her sleep all night and had not yet groomed herself. It was infuriating, to say the least. That wasn't all though, the wind also made it next to impossible to leave the camp without worrying about being blown away. Tunnelers, for the most part, were spared but for the Moor Runners of the clan it was getting harder and harder to hunt.

She can feel her mouth watering as she spots Rattleheart coming into camp with a juicy hare clamped between his jaws, which he then promptly deposits on the fresh kill pile. She draws closer to the slowly gathering group, one ear flicking as she listens to the conversation, shuddering at the mention of being tossed into the gorge. That was no way for a cat to go, plummeting to their death. Another fear of hers, right next to being crushed underneath the earth in a tunnel. No thank you.

She comes to stand next to Scorchstreak, giving her friend a warm shoulder bump in greeting. "Perhaps it'll let up soon..." she says wistfully. Being cooped up in camp would be rather tough, she doesn't know how Scorchstreak has managed it for so long. Her heart yearned for the open hills, to race through them and be free. Being stuck within the confines of their hollow would be harrowing. At least there was good company here though.

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[Badgermoon]

It felt that, not too long ago, they'd been confined to camp because of the ferocity of leaf-bare: now, it was greenleaf, and Badgermoon had been looking forward to bounding through the wildflowers and waving grasses, pursuing an abundance of prey with the sun's kindly rays on his back and a brisk breeze cooling him. And, to be fair, there certainly was a breeze: simply one meant for creatures far bigger than any cat he knew of. Perhaps LionClan would find it refreshing. he thought ruefully, trotting slightly crookedly into the center of camp as Rattleheart deposited their catch and complained about the wind. He dropped into a sitting position near Scorchstreak, an approving look on his face as he surveyed the tunneler's rabbit. "I lost one earlier." he lamented, joining in the chorus of weather commentary with a mournful sigh. "Big gust came up and knocked me sideways...it was faster, went straight down a hole."​

 

[Mouseflight]

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ | The tunnels were the one place that Mousepaw wanted to be at the moment, especially with the weather being how it was recently. He didn't like having the wind whip against him, and especially didn't like how easily it was for the prey that he enjoyed hunting to get away. He loved being a tunneler apprentice usually, but at the moment he wished he was bigger and didn't feel like he would be able to fly one day. He was a cat, a WindClan cat, and he wanted to stay on the ground as much as possible.

"If it doesn't stop soon then everyone will have to be tunnelers." the young apprentice would scoff out, trying to find a spot to sit down where he wouldn't get too bothered by the wind before sitting down.​

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[RATTLEHEART]

At the very least, he's far from the only one being tormented by the weather. The group that gathers around himself and his catch is far from insignificant, and while the crowd of bodies did cause a slight stir of apprehension in his chest, it was a relief to hear them complaining alongside him. Some small part of him had worried that he was just being dramatic, but the chronic case of gnarls in Bluepool's fur seemed to soothe him. It was doubtful that was any fun for her, but at least he wasn't the only one who looked like they had gotten into a battle with their nest.

He addressed Cedarbark first, a jerky nod of his head sent in the other tom's direction before he glanced down at the rabbit. "Yeah, I'm alright. Look like I've had mice crawling over me all night, but at least I got the rabbit before it could get away from me." Rattle snorts then at Wolfsong's approach, his tail twitching and lashing as he digs his claws down into the dirt - almost like the grass of the moors rooting itself in place. "It nearly did. The gusts managed to knock me over and slam my shoulder into the ground, I thought for sure the rabbit would end up gone before I could blink - alive or not." It's still a grumble, but he's fared better than most of the moor runners who had tried hunting recently.

Scorchstreak's approach finally brings a smile to his muzzle, glad that his sister could see his well-deserved catch in spite of the circumstances surrounding it. Although the satisfaction faltered at the thought of remaining within camp on an indefinite basis. "If it doesn't end up letting up, maybe I'll just make myself a permanent home in the tunnels. At least then the walls can offer some protection." Although not as much as he would've liked, considering he could still feel the short gusts and hear the vicious howling even far beneath the surface of the moors.

The look he directs in Badgermoon's direction is a sympathetic one, nodding as he glanced back towards the very tunnels he had emerged from, "I wonder how much it's affecting them as well... the wind has made it harder for me to keep my own scent hidden, but I've been able to find prey easier too. Maybe it's just cause more of them are fleeing down underground like the rest of us." It wouldn't surprise him, he doubted the rabbits and mice wanted to be swept off their paws any more than any Windclanner did. They just didn't have as many predators looming over their shoulders.

He reached out upon hearing Mousepaw, one slim paw patting between the apprentice's large ears as he chuckled. "If that happens, at least you'll be guaranteed to get an apprentice once you're older. Can't say it wouldn't be entertaining to watch some of our bigger clanmates try to navigate down there..." Rattleheart would never deny the work that his moor runner clanmates put into helping Windclan right alongside him and the other tunnelers. But he also couldn't deny the thought of most of them trying to shove their ways through the tight, winding tunnels below their paws was an amusing one.
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

Today felt particularly vicious, what with the way the wind nipped at Luckykit, threatening to drag his paws out from beneath him, and so he had opted to spend the morning in the nursery away from any threatening gusts. While he's starting to become more and more comfortable with being out in camp with his clanmates, he'll never say no to some extra time safely nestled within the walls of the nursery, doubly so when Scorchstreak is there to stay with him and his siblings. With his mother keeping watch at the entryway, Luckykit feels wholly comforted - after all, she would never let anything get past her, not rogues with thorns for claws or any dumb ShadowClanners or RiverClanners looking to pick even more fights. It's in the midst of these thoughts when Scorchstreak suddenly rises, slipping out of the nursery, and after a motion he's quick to follow on her heels, only pausing to peek out of the entrance to try and catch a glimpse of what had caught his mother's attention.

The sight of Rattleheart is a welcome one, though the gathering throng of other cats is a bit more unnerving; still, he joins them regardless, small frame flanked by Scorchstreak and Badgermoon on either side as he listens to all the talk of the wind. It's validating to hear complaints from so many other cats, especially from warriors, and it only bolsters his dislike for the extreme weather that feels endless - indeed, at times Luckykit wonders not just when it will stop but also wonders why it had only started up so close to his and his siblings' birth. A question likely to go unanswered, as surely anyone who knew why the wind had started would have some insight into when it might stop, he poses a different one instead - "Has the wind ever been this bad before? Does it always pick up, um, around this time?" He's heard of the different seasons, of course, even if he can't exactly imagine the world looking any different than it does now, and it seems as reasonable an explanation as anything that the wind might be ushered in because of greenleaf. That, or maybe it was the doing of some all-powerful rogue that could control the wind who wanted to teach the Clan a lesson; to Luckykit's naïve mind, both ideas seemed equally plausible.​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​

 

[Bluepool]

She cannot help the shudder that runs along her spine at the mention of maybe having to become a tunneler. What a horrid fate that would be in her mind indeed! She does not understand how cats like Scorchstreak or her sister can stand to spend their days in some dank tunnel, earth all around them like a tomb. She had tried to enter those suffocating spaces before to no avail. Tunnelers had stronger wills than her, that was for sure. She would not trade her own rank for the world, wind and all.

She cant help the laugh that leaves her jaws at the image of Badgermoon going tumbling across the moors. "You're lucky I wasn't there to see that I never would have let you forget about it" she says, a teasing inflection in her voice. Rattleheart states that maybe the tunnels would have to become his permanent home. Well, if thats what he and Mousepaw wanted they could go right ahead. "Not me! You guys can have the tunnels all to yourselves. I'll learn how to coexist with the wind" if thats the way it had to be then so be it...

"The weather only turns this bad when a kit doesn't listen to their mother" she informs Luckykit, fixing her golden colored eyes upon his tiny form. "You have been listening to your mother right? Otherwise the wind might be lookin' for you...."

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

At her side, Bluepool voices that it the wind may let up soon, and the calico returns her shoulder bump with a graceful ease. Badgermoon, then, speaks of his failure due to the wind, and Scorchstreak finds herself amused by such a thing—it’s less amusing, though, when her black and white sibling admits to facing the same struggle and nearly missing his catch. The idea of watching Badgermoon crash and burn is one thing, a touch of bitterness lingering still, but Scorchstreak would fight the wind itself if it meant defending her brother from injury.

Mousepaw suggests that they may all have to become tunnelers soon if they get no reprieve, and while such a thought intrigues her, it is simply unrealistic. She cannot imagine Houndthistle’s massive form attempting to fit into a tunnel, or Badgermoon’s. And Bluepool surely has her own reasons for braving the winds rather than taking to the underground; Scorchstreak would never mock her fellow lead warrior, her friend, for such a thing even if she doesn’t know the reasoning behind it. "I admit, there are some WindClanners who should stay far from the tunnels for their own sake," she says, golden gaze cutting to her side, a good-natured jab at the deputy. She does agree with Rattleheart’s idea—perhaps it is time to make the tunnels her permanent sleeping place once again. She couldn’t move the kits with her, though, so perhaps not.

One of her kits approaches, and Scorchstreak looks down upon him with a warm gaze. Luckykit asks whether the wind has gotten this bad before, and the tunneler aims to brush her tail gently along her son’s flank, encouraging. He is so small, and the world so large—he is learning, and she is proud of his curiosity.

Bluepool swiftly responds to the kit’s question with a warning. Houndthistle had warned her kits of a similar punishment for disobeying their mother, and a smile worms its way across her muzzle. "That’s right, Luckykit," she says, though her voice is gentler with her kit than it is with her clanmates. "You’ve been rather good, but perhaps some other kit hasn’t been listening as well as you’ve been."​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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[LUCKYPAW]

Bluepool's words immediately strike a chord within Luckykit, her explanation sounding eerily similar to that of the story of Thorn Claws Houndthistle had told. Could it be that he really was the one behind the bad weather? Everything he had been told so far certainly pointed to that explanation, however much he wished it wasn't true; after all, if Thorn Claws really was making the wind act up like this, that meant he was probably lurking around close to the Clans. He hadn't made any appearances to leave any thorns in their nest yet (Luckykit made sure to check every night before bed!), but that didn't mean they were safe - what if he had other powers they didn't know about, too? His worries are momentarily forgotten as Bluepool asks if he's been listening to Scorchstreak in favor of puffing up in offense at the implication she was trying to make. "O-of course I have been! " Luckykit defends himself, meeting her gaze head-on. He always listens, follows all of the rules Scorchstreak lays out for them, and yet a small part of him still worries that somehow he might have slipped up and brought Thorn Claws' wrath onto the moors. But, surely somebody would have noticed, right?

Luckily, Scorchstreak's affirmation is enough to reassure him, and he gives a head bob in response, a proud smile affixed to his maw. "See? I've been good!" he directs towards Bluepool, wanting to make sure she knows just how well he behaves, not just from him but from his mother as well. Scorchstreak's last comment isn't lost on him, either; in fact, it all but confirms his suspicions from before. Even if he listens to his parents like he's supposed to, it doesn't mean it will stop Thorn Claws from terrorizing the rest of the Clan - a very unfair arrangement, he thinks, though Luckykit's not really sure how the wind would be able to only target the offending cats. "Will the wind be around forever if they don't start listening?" he asks, eyes wide. He can't imagine having to learn how to be a warrior when a strong gust could send him sprawling at any moment; even the tunnelers were complaining about the wind disrupting their duties, after all, which means that there really isn't anywhere safe from the wind. Maybe they'd just have to live up to the name WindClan and learn how to work in the wind, like Bluepool mentioned, though Luckykit can't really think of how that would work. Really, he doesn't want to have to think of ways to work with the wind - he just wants it to go away and stop bothering everyone, and hopefully for Thorn Claws to go along with it. If they were lucky, he'd go torment ShadowClan or RiverClan instead - surely they deserved it more than WindClan did.​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

Rattleheart glanced over as Luckykit approached, a faint smile his usual reaction to seeing any of his sister's kits wandering about nearby. He squeezes in between Badgermoon and Scorchstreak, flanked on both sides by a protective barrier, before piping up with a question that turned Rattleheart thoughtful. The seasons all had their own advantages and disadvantages, but had he ever seen the wind quite this vicious before? Perhaps during some of the worst of leafbare that he had lived through. Snowstorms could often be unforgiving, especially towards a territory like Windclan's, but it was difficult to judge just how bad the wind was in comparison to the snow pelting down on all of them. He'd been so caught up in pondering Luckykit's question seriously that he was beat to answering by both Bluepool and Scorchstreak, their answers leaving his whiskers twitching with amusement. It was an active effort to keep himself from chuckling, especially when he saw the concern flash across the little tom's face.

His long tail reached out, flicking lightly against Luckykit's nose as Rattleheart purred out affectionately, "Don't worry, little Lucky. I'm certain your mother can vouch for just what a good kit you've been, can't she?" He glanced over towards his sister, mirth dancing in his gaze. He could only hope she'd give her son a bit of mercy, so he wouldn't be left tossing and turning at night, worrying that the wind would come to toss him from his nest. Rattleheart couldn't help but see the similarities between the two of them, and he hoped that Luckykit's anxious nature was just a kithood trait that he would grow out of, rather than a sign he was taking after his uncle. As proud as he was of how far he had come from the time he, Lizardbounce and Scorchstreak had been kits, he couldn't deny that worry still followed him around like a dark cloud.

The mention of other kits not listening was what caused laughter to finally tumble forth from Rattleheart's muzzle, nodding as he glanced in the direction of the nursery. "It just might stick around if they're not careful. I guess you'll just have to help us all out by making sure your denmates are being good and listening, won't you? Maybe Sootstar will have to implement a lead kit role just so you can help out." As fun as it was to - good-naturedly - tease little Luckykit, Rattleheart genuinely hoped he would keep his kindhearted and compliant ways into adulthood. The last thing that Windclan needed, at least to the tunneler, was more ruthless cats.
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[ PENNED BY EO ]​