PUT OUT THE FIRE ON US [digging trenches / tunnelers]

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ WindClan has been evacuated from their camp. Everyone besides the healthy warriors and apprentices of the clan is gone, across the river. It feels wrong, although Scorchstreak has decided that it is the safest decision. Sunstar does not seem to like it—no one does—but she is willing to be the subject of her clanmates’ irritation. They can be angry with her, so long as they are safe.

Their camp, however, is not something to be moved out of danger. The fires are closing in on them, practically licking at gorse walls by now, and the calico knows there isn’t much time left to spare. There are still ways that they can try to prevent a total loss, though. Her mate has gathered the moor runners to do their part, leaving Scorchstreak to lead the tunnelers of the clan. It feels strange, making a tunnel-related call without Rattleheart, but her sibling is in no state to be back here at camp, helping with anything. It is good that they are resting safe and sound across the water. With a whipping of her tail she calls out to those who linger about camp. "The twolegs dug trenches to stop the fires from spreading." Her voice is strained, dried out and irritated by the smoke that’s begun to cloud their camp. The mention of twolegs brings a rage-filled flicker of her dark ear. The twolegs are likely the ones at fault for the moorland’s fires—it cannot be a coincidence that their presence was seen just before the fires began.

"We will do the same thing, right outside of camp. Make them at least a tail-length wide," That should be wide enough, shouldn’t it? She has no idea how deep the trenches should be—tunnelers are minuscule in comparison to the twolegs and their digging tools. Perhaps a shallow, wide trench is better than a deep one if it is time-efficient. Without waiting for a response, the calico sets about her self-imposed work. Dappled paws sink into dry earth, scooping away at whatever she can reach.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ she’s a growing bed of thorns

• ooc: open to any tunnelers who aren’t staying in riverclan territory!
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stoic and shrewd, but clearly cares deeply for her clan.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[CENTIPEDEBITE]

Many of their clanmates were gone now, and Centipedebite half wished that he was among them. The acrid smell of smoke would linger in his nose for a long time even once the fire was out - or WindClan was burned to the ground, either or - taking up precious space in their lungs that should've belonged to the limited amount of clean air left in the area as the fire threatened to strangle them all, its bright orange flames lapping at the moorland too close for comfort. He was okay, more or less - his lungs could handle a bit of a beating, given he was so used to damp underground air being a tunneler, but they still coughed on occasion, throat feeling rather rough from the sheer amount of smoke all of them had been breathing in. The only reason he really cared about saving the camp was that they had spent so much time and energy building the network of tunnels here that it'd be a terrible sacrifice - the camp itself didn't mean much to him, really. They could easily make new nests, after all.

A cloud of smoke drifts near, and he coughs, sleek fur standing on end - thankfully, it doesn't last, and they're able to direct their attention to Scorchstreak as she calls upon the other tunnelers. Other cats were moving about to help, too - so they might as well, rather than sit here doing nothing except for breathing in a bunch of ash, waiting for the fire to encircle and strangle them all. The dark-furred tunneler joins the deputy in her work, muttering under their breath to themself about who knows what.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎BY GAMBLING AND RISKING MY LIFE ♠ WHAT AM I HOPING FOR?‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  
  

• no ref yet lol

• 
  ♠. shorthaired solid black with low white & vitiligo, blue-gray eyes
  ♠. 35 moons, ages the 13th of every month; npc x npc
  ♠. afab, he/they/it; masc terms
  ♠. bisexual; single, not purposely looking
  ♠. peaceful & minor harm powerplay permitted
  ♠. not easy to befriend; distrustful & sometimes paranoid
  ♠. may start fights, may end fights, will not show mercy
  ♠. ic opinions!
  

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[downyfur]

This is not the first time Downypaw has worked with an insistent, agitated Scorchstreak, but it's the first time they've seen the deputy like this in daylight. Her black-backed paws are already stained up the elbows in dirt, and her usual stoicism is broken up by the telltale flickers and thrashes of constrained desperation. StarClan knows they're all feeling the same. If Scorchstreak's facade was cracking so visibly, then the anxiety must be practically painted across Downypaw's face.

The whole basis for this is the twolegs, the same ones they, Pinkpaw, Cottonpaw, and Featherpaw had seen on that fateful adventure. The silvery apprentice almost regrets going out now, even though it wouldn't have made a difference in the end. It's good thing, being one of the first witnesses. If they hadn't seen it then, who knows how close it would've crept to camp before anyone noticed.

The deputy barks their orders, and upon the implied dismissal, they get down to work. A cloud of smoke wafts over their heads, and Downypaw plunges their nose into the crumbly dirt to keep from breathing in the fumes. The feline next to them doesn't seem as lucky. "Are you alright?" they ask softly, turning towards Centipedebite. They know better than to urge a warrior out of work, out of deference to the hierarchy and their pride, but a show of concern never did anyone much harm. Even the prickly ones came around to it eventually.​

 

[PINKSHINE]

When Pinkpaw had helped take the kits to RiverClan, she kinda forgot that they weren't all going for some big sleepover. The healthy cats (that was here) had gone back to camp, the skies still an evil mix of red - brown - black, and Pinkpaw had wondered... what were they gonna do?

What they were gonna do is dig, apparently, and Pinkpaw hadn't really understood what that was gonna do until Scorchstreak explained it to them all. " That's what the twolegs were doing? " she gapes. How did Scorchstreak figure it out?! She was like... a super detective, or something... Determined, Pinkpaw immediately sets about her work alongside her mentor. She makes sure Downypaw is in her sights too, and she sees them besides a choking tunneler... The heat did poke at her uncomfortably. She kinda wanted to run away... but she couldn't. She's done enough running away. So now... she was gonna dig.

" You're like the smartest ever, Scorchstreak... " she mumbles as she works, which might be dangerous, cause her paws were already dirty and gross and she might get mud in he rmouth, but she had to say something... " I'm really glad you're deputy, " she mews earnestly.​