pafp oh darling, don’t you ever grow up [tunnel lesson]

As her kits grow older and taller with each passing day, the lead warrior cannot help but to feel hopeful. They are still small, most of them, and if all goes well they will all be made into tunnelers when they reach the age of apprenticeship. Truthfully, they are already of the appropriate age, but Sootstar has not yet held a meeting to announce them as apprentices. The smoky she-cat has been quite busy as of late, between the three clans that WindClan has raised dirt-coated claws against.

The tunneler is endlessly proud of her kits, and she is especially glad that they each seem to shore interest in tunneling. So when the kit who looks the most like their father asks her to give them advice on tunneling, her normally icy expression melts away to a flame of affection. Her own kithood taught her that there is no particular order that the basics of tunneling should be learned in, and so Scorchstreak thinks of the most recent interesting thing that’s happened to her in the underground.

Stationed near one of the tunnel entrances within the gorse walls of their camp, Scorchstreak settles down, lying stretched out across the dirt. "Recently, whilst patrolling the tunnels beneath ShadowClan, we heard something. Something horrible. Larger than any cat—and much more deadly than any ShadowClanner. We needed to ensure that it would not scent us. Such a beast has huge paws, perfect for digging quickly. It could cave in even the deepest tunnels with a swipe of its claws."

She is not embellishing the story, unfortunately; knowing now that ShadowClan had been struggling with a bear upon their lands, the calico is even more aware of just how terrifying her patrol’s encounter had been. "Now, do you happen to know what we tunnelers do when we need to disguise our scent in the tunnels of the other clans?" Her golden gaze settles on her black and white kit’s face, hoping that they are paying close attention. This is important information, good to teach while Frostkit is still young. They will grow to be a tunneler, almost certainly, and it is good to make them familiar with the guidelines of tunneling.

// @frostkit
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
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He had thought himself a runt for a small moment– an unbidden thought that chewed at him like a mouse to a flower's stalk. He weakened and wilted some beneath its deadly teeth, but what had been a thing of fear had quickly turned to pride. Yes, he was small. He was small the way his mother was small, the way that Rattleheart was small. He would make a fine tunneler. He would make her proud. It didn't escape him then or now that his pelt looked so much like his father's, even if his size did not match the broad tom's. What did it say, then, that the sibling most like Scorchstreak looked so much bigger than he did? He didn't want to talk about it. Didn't dare ask, afraid of seeing that flame of warmth in his mother's eyes fade to sadness. He relishes in it instead.

Knowing that she would share her knowledge with him is exciting. It's good. Not even the thrill of fear can take that away, and though his eyes widen and his heart quickens at the thought of meeting such a beast on his own, the panic only serves to further ensnare the young tom's attention. He can nearly hear it himself. Lumbering paws above his head, thudding along. Thump, thump. The dirt above his head quivering down. The thought of its paws digging down — what color would they be? Surely something terrible and bloodstained, tipped with claws as long as his tail. Of course Scorchstreak would have to hide. Though she's so far from weak, what good is a cat against such a monster? What greater achievement could there be but to survive the thing?

"You can't make your scent go away...can you?" Still thinking of the great monster, Frostkit speaks the words slowly. Consideration weighs upon his little noggin. "So you would have to cover it up. But how? And what if something like that could smell you anyway, what–"

What could you do but die?
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  • ooc: i'm SO sorry for how late this is omg, i lost track of time– retro to apprenticeship, ofc!
  • frostpaw. named for his coloration, and in memory of tigerfrost.
    —— amab nonbinary, he - him + will soon add they - them. apprentice of windclan.
    —— badgermoon x scorchstreak. sibling to rumblepaw, luckypaw, and scorchpaw.

    frostpaw is remarkably average, all things considered. he is of the expected size and shape, if perhaps a little blockier with his father's influence. his black and white pelt is short and scruffy, and his eyes are nearly the same as they had been at birth, though lightened some to an icy sky blue.
  • "speech"
 
Badgermoon was well aware that he had essentially no place in the education of his tunneler-sized kits; the knowledge he had of a warrior's work was mostly moor-runner-specific, beyond some very basic principles. This meant, on the one paw, that he was basically useless to them in this way - on the other hand, though, it meant he got to learn along with them. A welcome side effect, particularly since he had a longstanding curiosity about the lives of tunnelers. The sound of Scorchstreak's voice brought the deputy's yellow eyes swinging around with curiosity, lighting up at the sight of Frostkit. Even though it was a lesson he could make no use of, it was an opportunity to spend a little time with one of his kits, and perhaps learn something in the process. The black-and-white tom sidled over and sat beside his lookalike, attempting to give the kitten a fond lick on the head before muttering, "If it's any consolation, I don't know the answer, either."
 
Scorchstreak’s eyes follow the deputy as he approaches, settling beside the kit who looks the spitting image of himself. Something in her chest twists at the thought—Frostkit will not take after their father. Frostkit will be a tunneler. She thinks of Scorchkit, a small replica of herself, and the concern begins to dissipate. They each have been blessed with kits in their own images; there is no need for such bitterness, is there? And speaking of her kit—Frostkit asks whether tunnelers can simply make their scents go away. It is an amusing question, and one that she is glad to be asked. She normally wouldn’t entertain such a silly inquiry, but if Frostkit is to become a capable, intelligent tunneler, they will need to know their techniques. Their curiosity is a virtue.

To be able to entirely remove her scent would be a great advantage within the tunnels, especially during stealth missions, but it is an unrealistic hope. "It would be a great help if we could, but no," she responds with a shake of her head. Badgermoon speaks up, and blazing eyes flick up to meet the deputy’s gaze, wondering if he’ll chime in with the answer. But no, the moor runner knows nothing about the tunnels, and Scorchstreak offers him a flick of her tail in acknowledgment before turning her attention back to her kit. "When we go into other territories in the tunnels, we take with us the pelt of a recent catch. The scent of rabbit can cover our own scents, and even beasts cannot detect us." Her chest puffs out a bit at that, the reminder that tunnelers are intelligent masters of stealth. Someday, the black and white kit will utilize the same techniques that had hidden their patrol from the beast that lumbered through ShadowClan territory.
[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]
 
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Family lesson, hm? Sanguine's eyes briefly skipped towards the other tunneler, her kit enraptured with the story she spoke of. It was less of a story and more of a wicked truth, but that was beside the point. Training was training. Sanguinerush's ears twitched as guesses and reassurances were given. Of course she knew the answer. Masking your scent requires you to have something to mask it with. But, just for now, Sanguine kept her trap shut. IT was a teaching moment, not a Sanguine ruins the moment moment.

Her head nodded in respect of Scorchstreak's explanation. It was correct, after all. Finally she spoke up, giving a small insight. Not to throw Scorchstreak off of her game, of course. "The fresher the better. Scent fades over time, after all." Sanguine offered. Helpfully? Who knows. The tunneler had been settled not too far from the small gathering of cats, her vision trained on them each for a brief moment. Giving the kit a tiny smile before turning her head away. ​
"speech"​
 
Whenever possible, Mousepaw liked to try to listen near those that were teaching children and younger apprentices things - especially things about tunnelers. Each warrior had their own process to teaching, some liked to have a sit-down conversation to start off with, others just shoved the apprentices in the tunnels and followed after them to make sure they didn't die, and Mousepaw liked them all. The order of which things were taught by each warrior was different for the most part too, so he liked to listen to those that did the sit-down method to hear what they were talking about and to learn new things if he didn't already know the answer.

This time, Mousepaw did know the answer. He had been a tunneler apprentice for about four moons now, and he was lucky that this was one of the first things his own mentor taught him, as it was a useful thing to know due to the potential threat of other clans just walking through their territory. Of course, Mousepaw hadn't encountered that quite yet, but he still deemed it possible, so when he had learned this trick he had made sure to keep it to heart.

Laying down where he was at, the apprentice pretended to nap. By the way his ears pricked and an eye opened every now and then to watch what the others were doing, it was a very poor attempt at a fake nap, but he could only hope he wasn't bothered for the time-being so that he could potentially learn something new.
  • [ooc]
  • windclan (sootstar) loyalist
    dirty fighter/will aim to kill
    will bully anyone (some more than others)

    likely to attack first
    powerplay peaceful actions okay
    ping if needed in a thread
  • 67979049_MZITqZdFire2IhL.png
    8 months old
    ftm calico -- he/him
    tunneler apprentice

    large ears
    always looks grumpy