private RUMBLIN’ GROAN DOWN BELOW [tunnel patrol]

༄༄ Being given complete freedom over where her patrol goes allows Scorchstreak a measure of authority that she has still not grown used to. She is a lead warrior, but she is far more suited to taking orders than giving them. Still, she knows exactly where she wishes to lead her fellow tunnelers—the tunnels that wind beneath the marshland have sat unused for a while, since WindClan’s return to the moors. They are no longer a path for spying, but merely something that requires upkeep. With the springtime rain they have been receiving, the calico thinks it is best to ensure that no part of the tunnel system underneath ShadowClan’s territory is in danger of collapsing. "Remember, we are here for maintenance only. We remain unseen and…" fiery eyes shift pointedly to Pinkpaw, who seems so much louder when she is in the tunnels—perhaps it is that her voice carries farther, or that Scorchstreak is used to silence within the underground passageways. "Unheard."

It is not far into the tunnel that their peaceful cleaning and strengthening is interrupted by a loud noise from above. "Get down, all of you. Stay quiet." Her ears point upward as her body shifts down into a crouch, each of her limbs going tense. She is a lead warrior, a confident and skilled fighter, but she knows better than to risk anything down in these tunnels. Her mind races, attempting to come up with some sort of conclusion to explain the loud stomping from up above, but all that she can think of is bears. Have the massive beasts returned to terrorize the marshland once more? The patrol is close enough to the border that—much like ThunderClan’s wolf problem—whatever the source of the noise is, it is likely to become WindClan’s problem as well. The wolves were one thing, but a bear running across the moorland would likely never be stopped or outrun.

Another series of noises reaches her ears, and they perk up to try and hear more clearly. One, two, three… Four separate sets of pawsteps rumble through the earth, filling the tunnel with sound in every direction. It isn’t a bear at all, she decides. No, it’s something smaller, but something that may not be any less dangerous for themselves or for ShadowClan. "It isn’t a bear again. It may be a wolf. Keep moving, but be cautious." Her attention remains on the sounds coming from aboveground, but her tail lightly sweeps away a pile of loose leaves. They are relatively safe down here, so there is no reason to postpone their work yet.


// @BLUEFROST @SOOTSPOT @PINKPAW @mistcrawl
 


A long time had passed since the chimera had entered the tunnels heading towards ShadowClan, and the memory of escorting two marshland kits right out from under their noses was not yet lost to time. Unlike his time on the borders though, there was safety underground; he doubted their flea-bitten enemies would even be able to fit in the tunnels, let alone fight them in it. Quiet as he followed Scorchstreak, the tom found himself with little to protest or deride on this particular day - the universe was too busy doing it for him. A thunderous noise above caused Sootspot to freeze in place with the fur on his tail puffing up to twice its usual height. Despite his ears being pinned, the noise was utterly monstrous, had he been alone, he may have muffled them with his paws. Then, like a firework, the sound scattered, and Sootspot didn't know where he should be looking. The top of the tunnel all looked the same, save for the occasional root or stone poking out, but he could anticipate narrow jaws snapping through the earth as if it was a cloud to get at the patrol of WindClanners. Perhaps if he conveniently alerted the unknown entities, they would spare him and eat the rest.

Scorchstreak suggested wolves, and the tom bit his tongue. It'd make sense, wolves were more likely to hunt in packs than bears, but for all he knew, it could just be some heavyset ShadowClanners (if such a thing existed, they'd seem half-starved every other time he'd seen them). "Best hope it has a taste for carrion-bloods then," he murmured, tone light. "I would be positively bereft should we need to throw a clanmate over the gorge to get rid of them." Though, should a few of them conveniently take a trip over the edge, he didn't think he'd mind.


 
The no Scorchstreak had answered her with before had been decisive and clear - cut. As decisive and clear - cut as the pout that Pinkpaw had followed up with after. Boo! Retch! If they couldn't do anything fun... Pinkpaw would just have to make up her own fun! She trods not far from her mentor, trying to think of something more fun than tunneling, like... if her whiskers let her feel things along the tunnels, could you feel things along cats with your whiskers too? Could you feel their thoughts and the bu - bump of their chest and stuff? She thinks to test this theory, but Scorchstreak would probably be totally mad at her if she tried to read her thoughts... Especially while she was talking. Eek.

Unseen, just like the look Scorchstreak gives her. She can't see a thing! And Unheard. " I'm real good at that, " she muses. She's real good at anything she puts her mind to, actually...

And then there's a real spooky noise. Like the noise from a scary story that when the elders make, you know something bad is about to happen. Immediately, her fur spikes. Mismatched ears pin against her skull. her quiet, squealed, " Wuzzat? " is trumped by Scorchstreak's order, which of course, she follows right away.

" Bear? Wolf? " Neither of those sound very good... " It won't smell us, right? 'Cause we smell like dirt right now? " Maybe there was a benefit to being dirty and stuff all the time...

Sootspot was talking funny again, and she kinda appreciated it this time, cause it distracted her from being totally distracted this time. " I woud be 'ositively beh'reft! " she mocks in a made-up accent, muffling her giggles so Scorchstreak wouldn't get mad at her ( and also so they wouldn't get eaten, and stuff ). " Maybe your funny words would confuse the wolf and make it go away, Sootspot! "
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    ( IT'S TIME TO START A FUCKING RIOT, RIOT! ) PINKPAW: APPRENTICE OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHPAW, DOWNYPAW, & FINCHPAW.
    🌸 SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
    🌸 CURRENTLY 8 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH

    Pinkpaw bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
    HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pinkpaw is a very irrational and childish character!​
 
Scorchstreak leads her procession down into the tunnels that arch beneath the mire. The scent is stale, strange, shadow-dense. Her heart twists when she remembers what these tunnels had been last used for—stolen kits at her mother’s icy command. She remembers too-well the looks of suspicion flashing from the eyes of ShadowClan’s investigation patrol, and little had she known that Sootstar had employed a ShadowClan warrior to do her dirty work for her.

The lead warrior reminds them they are there for maintenance only. Bluefrost gives a dip of her head in assent. She parts her jaws to reply when something stomps into the earth above them. She stiffens at the noise, her fur bushed and her eyes round with sudden fear. She crouches at Scorchstreak’s command, her heart hammering in her chest and thudding behind her eyes. The calico suggests lingering wolves, leftover from ThunderClan’s misfortune, and she exhales raggedly. “Sounds like it is ShadowClan’s problem, then, as long as we stay under the earth,” she murmurs, exchanging a glance with her brother and with the quietly giggling Pinkpaw.


  • ooc:
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  • Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 14 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
    — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
    — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.