Before stepping paw into the tunnels, one of his greatest fears about them had been the possibility of a collapse, of being swallowed alive by the earth in an instant, and now, having navigated the tunnels for almost a moon now, Luckypaw can confidently say it's still one of his greatest fears. Being buried beneath mounds of dirt, with no hope of finding your way back out again? It's the stuff of nightmares (his nightmares, even, once or two), and though he's been growing more comfortable being underground, the boy is still sure to stick close to Cygnetstare, listening attentively to their instruction. As others continue along with their tasks around them, he watches as best as he can as she solidifies the walls, filling in any invisible gaps or weak points that might cause a problem down the line. It seems simple enough, but his paws are still slow to follow, waiting until he's absolutely certain of what to do before tentatively moving to push some dirt up and into the side of the tunnel. Whiskers twitch in faint annoyance as Luckypaw feels some of it patter back down to the ground, but more important is what's left between his paws and the wall; carefully, he presses it in, trying not to disturb the earth already there, and when he pulls away, a bit more dirt is lost, but most of it remains. In the dim lighting, a small smile slowly builds across his maw - it's messy, and surely needs more attention, but it's his first step in shoring up this tunnel!
This time, he's quicker to continue, feeling out the area and smoothing it down accordingly. Another scoop and he's molding the wall a little more surely, though his paws are still placed gently along the surface for fear of messing anything up. "I think I'm starting to get it - it's not so-" cut off by the faint sound of a yelp and the shifting of his fellow tunnelers in its direction, the words dry up in his throat as Luckypaw instinctively goes still, sensing the sudden tension in the air. Was the tunnel about to collapse? Were they all about to be forever buried beneath the earth, never to see the light of day again? Would it be quick, he wonders, or drawn out? What if - and yet, nothing seems to happen, no more cries of alarm or shifting masses of dirt. The air still tastes the same, the only sounds reaching him are soft, casual chatter, though he still doesn't move until Cygnetstare does, heart still hammering in his chest. The talk is of something Whitepaw has found, and a squinted stare reveals it to be - bones? He almost recoils at the realization, though judging from the reactions of the others, it doesn't appear to be such an uncommon find. Not something he'd want to discover beneath his own paws, though.
Another lesson comes from the experience, and with adrenaline only just fading, Luckypaw makes a mental note - hissing is bad. Hissing means turn and run, just like water means stay out of the tunnels, just like tunnelers always work in at least pairs. The various rules run through his mind, each serving as a reminder for the next, though as they peter off a thought occurs to him. "It's just the one dead one, right? They don't...they don't come in pairs? Or, like, hang around where there's dead ones and live ones, do they?" he asks, finally finding his voice again. Surely, if there was any real threat, somebody else would have pointed it out by now, but it's still good to know for the future, in case he ends up finding a skeleton himself. Even more alarming is what Cygnetstare next offers - that even dead, they can still bring a cat down with them. Unable to repress a shudder, Luckypaw peers at the bones once again, suddenly feeling the urge to move very far away from them. Rocks are a pain, he's been warned, known to slice up pawpads, but adder fangs in the walls that bring death? As some of the other apprentices make their observations, he remains silent, sending a glance to the wall where he had just been working. Were there any more bones lurking just out of reach, waiting to be discovered? While there's no questioning his duties, another layer of caution has settled back down over his shoulders as the reminder is drilled into his head - the tunnels are dangerous, and always will be.
[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]
