tunnels OVER THE BEND — getting turned around

[SCORCHSTAR]

For Scorchstreak, the tunnels of WindClan have become a safe space. She feels comfortable, protected within the underground passages, pitch-black as they are. Lucky for her, her eyesight has never been her strongest sense, and in the tunnels it’s near useless. She’s grown used to being entirely without vision in the darkest parts of the tunnel system, and navigating with just paws and whiskers has become natural to her. Of course, she’s a bit behind some of the others who have been tunneling for their entire lives—but she was born in these tunnels, lived half her life here, so she thinks that she is allowed to find comfort in dirt walls and a ceiling overhead. She is no amazing tunneler, but she is good at what she does, and that sits well enough with most of her clanmates.

She has never run into such an issue before. She’s always been so good at keeping track of where she is, which turns she’s taken and which she hasn’t. Her sense of direction has always been impeccable—but not infallible, she understands There have been a lot of things on her mind today, though, so perhaps her absentminded slip-up can be excused.

In the pitch darkness she feels her way around, hoping to find a clanmate who can help to set her back on track. And to her benefit, she does find one… It’s just that she finds one by running directly into them, paws brushing against one another. "Oh!" She flinches backward as she makes contact with another creature, feels their breath on her face. There’s no light, of course, so she’s left guessing at who it may be. The pale, aptly named Icebreath? The cryptic Ambertail? The ghostly Lambcurl? None of her options seem less than mortifying—maybe it’s for the best, truly, if she’s bumped directly into a badger.

Blazing eyes squint through the darkness, trying to discern who it is in front of her. Scent isn’t much aid to her here; they all smell much the same, surrounded by dirt and darkness. "Apologies. I must have gotten turned around somehow." Cordial, admitting her fault, she takes a firm pace backward. There are a few different tunnels intersecting around here, so perhaps there are more tunnelers around as well. Better to keep herself out of the way, lest she cause a tunnel-jam.
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[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]​

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[LAMBCURL.]

He dreams of cold skies; of blustering clouds; of snow that hung over the very caves they trekked. Each new day brought them further from that image. New warmth seeped into the dirt, the grass, slowly, slowly revitalized, drawn from its dry slumber from the snowmelt. The winds did not whip so thick, and his eyes did not burn so much as they used to. Less than a sentence to ache, it was. Of course, he would not miss it... Of course he preferred to be rounded and for his fur to remain glossed. The bite of hunger was ignorable, but it could grow tiresome, to do so...

He imagines, if only so he may indulge in further purpose. Relied on by Sootstar herself, by them all to bring home a bounty. Nervewracking to some, but to him, it was only honor. Prideful thing, his heart swells. Purpose was life, so essentially, and to dwell... to indulge...

Well, it was not always so easy to do, when your companion nearly tramples you. The startled sound from him is little more than a light gasp; maybe, just maybe, the hint of a squeak, but it is there. For a few cool moments, he thinks that it is time. That Scorchstride had run into unfathomable danger and, the best course of action was to rid herself of him. He would have accepted it fine, oh, fine. But the blackness is only familiar of the tunnels, still. No star-crossed lands...

Dizzy, dizzying, he shakes his head. "Turned...? Oh yes..." Wordlessly before, he had followed her– spotted her heading below on merely rushed after, adhering to their buddy policy, as it were. He hadn't even known he'd lost track of her down the line... His mind had been elsewhere, he supposes."Away and back so quickly... Oh, enviable." His eyes blink wide, as if she could see them much at all.​

 

[AMBERTAIL]

"Where did it go?" Amber whispers to the dark. His voice does not echo, but deafens. Dulls. Does not turn from the press-tight dirt, but worms into it, is swallowed whole. "Do you know where?" Despite the only one on this personal patrol (a rule he is quite aware of), their voice is laced with curiosity and lifted with a question. Undoubtedly, Ambertail is speaking to someone. "You're not very helpful." More than that, even, as his voice is tinged with amusement, not quite a laugh: it's a conversation. To be down here alone for so long is a death sentence to one's sense of reality, and even with his brief forays into the world above, this is where every part of him lies. This is where she lies.

How could he be anywhere else, knowing that?

But his conversation does not last. It never seems to, but today it ends abruptly– Scorchstride's pleasant voice alongside Lambcurl's rather awkward one ring through his ears. The dirt does not swallow them (they are abruptly jealous of that), and his ears and whiskers both guide him their way. The last thing he wants is another lost to the dark, even if he is the one swallowed by it for eternity. "Two lefts, one right, a rabbit's sprint from camp," he offers from one of the other tunnels, crouched low. Whether they are before him or to a side, Ambertail cannot quite say without pressing his nose into their fur and seeing which part he can touch– he does not do so without invitation. "Do you want the light?"

˗ˏˋ〚  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〛´ˎ˗

• ooc: —
• ──── ambertail. tunneler of windclan. nb, he or they.
  ──── adult, though precise age unlabeled as of now.
  ──── sexuality unknown. a strange windclan cryptid.
  
  ──── a tiny, yet proportionally long-limbed tortoiseshell with unfocused amber eyes. though they retain their color, ambertail is blind. those who don't know as much may be confused, and will certainly be met with dry responses from the tunneler himself.
• "speech"

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[✧ Marmotbite.]

CAUTION TAPE AROUND MY HEART
marmotpaw | 03 months | female | she/her | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold #9ab973

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When Marmotpaw had become a tunneler, she'd been excited to be following in sootstars footsteps - surely, a job that suited the strongest of cats must be a great honor, must certainly be a proud job full of honored workers. The reality is not so - instead, the cats that dwell beneath the earth seem to be odder than those above. Were it not for her own disdain of the above world, perhaps she would have been more upset. Instead she's just... confused. Confounded.

She does not bother with names - there is no need to even try. Nose twitches as she slips from one tunnel to the next - she's been walking this same path all day now in the hopes of memorization. There are cats up ahead - and good few at that. Small and slight as she is, even compared to the average tunneler, she seriously considers trying to dive underpaw to push past, but hesitates. "Whats the hold up?" she says, pelt twitching. She wants to go back to her pacing, her memorizing - to the task so menial it numbs her anxious mind. Theres the worm-eater, the blind one, and- actually, marmot cannot recall the last one, the cause of all this fuss. Must not be anyone worth noting.
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