private STEAL MY THUNDER — scorchstreak

[BUCKFIRE]

Being camp-bound after Sunstar's tentative acceptance of Buck into the clan was... disappointing. Ever the antsy tom, paws itching for adventure and new sights, Buck was half-tempted to sneak out at night and catch a glimpse of the moors himself. In the meantime, he was occupying his time by acquiring acquaintances and attempting to charm the locals, seeing as not a whole lot of them were particularly happy about his stay here. It wasn't as if he didn't understand their wariness but the brown tabby wanted to assure them that he meant no harm.

Honeyed golden eyes setting on a flame-striped she-cat, with a pelt as dark as night, Buck recalls that this was Sunstar's deputy. He hadn't talked to her personally, but seeing as she didn't appear busy at the moment, that was about to change... "So, you're the right-hand woman 'round here." He drawls in a friendly greeting as he strides up confidently toward Scorchstreak, sporting a grin that was either received as charming or cocky. "Scorchstreak, right? Name's Buck. The pleasure's all mine." Buck introduced himself with a nod of his head.

The brown tabby could not help but admire the older she-cat's appearance for a few moments; he makes no attempt to hide his interest as he follows with a rather flirtatious compliment, "Can I admit somethin' to ya'? Your coat has to be one of the most stunning I've ever laid eyes on." And that was saying a lot — no cat he had ever met before even came close ( except for his mama, of course ).

Buck wouldn't push too hard when it came to the charm, though. He could tell that Scorchstreak was not someone easily flattered by comments; she was a serious cat, one who would likely swat at his nose if he made eyes for more than a few moments. So, he rolled his shoulders and switched to a different topic; one that would hopefully retain the deputy's interest. "Anyway, I heard you're the molly to talk to about tunneling. Mind tellin' me more?" Buck had been given a basic explanation of tunneling, but there was too much information for him to retain in all honesty. Besides, he wanted an excuse to talk to the pretty tortoiseshell and perhaps her having to explain her main job would give her more reason to stick around.

𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐌 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ✹ . + ˚ · 　 𝐈 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄

• @SCORCHSTREAK

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  a horseplace loner, buck is thirty moons. he is a ruggedly handsome tom, sporting lean muscle and a slightly taller-than-average stature. there is a nick in his left ear as well as a small scratch on his right lip. he smells heavily of hay and wood chips.　✦

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[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ The deputy is not fond of any of the clan’s newest initiates; she does not make attempts to disguise this fact, ignoring them for the most part. Buck, as he is called, falls into this net of ignorance—he may have saved a foolish WindClanner from meeting a grisly fate, but now he is acting as a drain on the clan’s herb and prey supply whilst contributing nothing. She respects her leader’s decision-making, of course, but she cannot help but to question his judgment as of late. WindClan has never been so open as it is under Sunstar, and the calico must do her duty as the clan’s deputy. She must question the leader, because if she does not, then who will? Of all cats, she is best equipped to ensure that Sunstar’s paws remain on a path of light rather than shadow. And she is best equipped to-

The drawling voice of the exact chocolate tabby tom she has been considering meets her ears, and Scorchstreak turns to meet his gaze with piercing golden eyes. He wears a disarming smile, an expression that speaks of warmth and belonging—attempting to fool her into a false sense of security, the deputy assumes. He greets her as the “right-hand woman” and her own ever-flat expression does not change. She nods, because she does not need to verbally confirm her position to this stranger. He clearly already recognizes her, speaking her name as he shares his own in return. Buck… a loner name, still worn with something akin to pride. His words quickly become cocky, claiming the pleasure to be all his. That is correct, as I feel no pleasure in meeting a cat such as you, she thinks, but does not share her thoughts. He follows up the introduction with an immediate compliment, which washes over Scorchstreak as if it is nothing more than a light rain shower. He calls her coat stunning, and fiery eyes narrow.

What is this barn-rat getting at, drenching her in such honeyed words? Scorchstreak’s tail lashes once, though a corner of her muzzle quirks upward with slight amusement. "I wish that I could say the same to you, Buck." Her words are sharp, tense. She is openly unfriendly. His admiration is amusing, but means little more to a cat with an appearance as rugged as her own. Empty flattery does not touch her heart. But luckily for the outsider, he continues onward to ask her about her job. Tunneling is her greatest passion in this life, and the deputy would never pass up an opportunity to share it with another cat. Of course, Buck seems too tall to become a participant in the art of the underground, but that should not stop him from learning. "What do you want to know? The tunnels are expansive, and they are dangerous. But they serve to feed our clan during the cold months, when all prey flees underground." Tunnelers have saved WindClan from starvation throughout each snowy season, and this is a clear point of pride for the deputy. "We use them to hunt, as well as keep watch over our territory. Recently, we finished digging an entirely new tunnel to one of our borders." She does not mention which one, because she does not trust this tom. He could be RiverClan. He could be the enemy.

every love that i touch ☽♰☾ falls to ruin

• ooc: —
• 
• SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[BUCKFIRE]

While Buck expected the she-cat to be standoffish toward him initially, he could not help but furrow his brows in a mixture of surprise and amusement at Scorchstreak's rather snippy response to his greeting. Sheesh, she was really determined to not like him, wasn't she? Well, that was just fine. He liked a challenge. For some, a tom like Buck was an acquired taste. Hopefully, if the deputy had any sense, she would eventually recognize Buck's worth. He wasn't the typical, laid-back barn cat that most took him for. He was someone that only came around once in a lifetime — this he knew for certain.

Scorchstreak delivers a similar spiel about tunneling that he's heard from other cats. He admittedly finds the concept strange; Buck has never considered seeking out prey underneath the earth. Then again, the barns and twoleg structures he's resided in have always provided ample prey. He hasn't known hunger, not to the point of desperation anyway. Furrowing his brows thoughtfully, Buck asks, "Is it fulfilling to you? Seems like you Wind Cats take the job quite seriously." He finds himself more so interested in Scorchstreak's own experience and sentiments surrounding her profession. Did the deputy actually enjoy what she did or did she sometimes wish to operate above ground where she could feel the breeze and the warmth of sunlight?

He was a tom who lived for the thrill, but Buck would draw the line at willingly crawling into a hole and navigating underground paths with only his nose and whiskers to guide him. A small part of him was curious as to what being inside such a tight corridor was like, but from the sounds of it, the job only favored cats on the smaller side. "I'd reckon it takes guts for a cat to be down in the tunnels all day, if it's really as dangerous as you say." The brown tabby gives a shake of his head and admits, "I don't know if I'd be cut out for somethin' like that. I need my fresh air." Just the thought of his nostrils filled with stuffy soil scent was off-putting for the newcomer.

An idea dawns upon the tom, and he offers Scorchstreak an interested glance. Smirk widening, the former loner makes a suggestion, "Maybe you could show me where y'all dig the tunnels." Truthfully, Buck was just eager to get out of camp and see some new sights. He had been cooped up here for too long and at this point he feels like he doesn't even really need to be confined to camp anymore. "I haven't had much of a chance to see much of anything 'cause of, well, this." Buck explains, lifting his healing foreleg and slightly rotating it to reveal the healing bite marks that had punctured his skin.

𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐌 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ✹ . + ˚ · 　 𝐈 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄

• 

• 

  a horseplace loner, buck is thirty moons. he is a ruggedly handsome tom, sporting lean muscle and a slightly taller-than-average stature. there is a nick in his left ear as well as a small scratch on his right lip. he smells heavily of hay and wood chips.　✦

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