camp THAT'S SHOW BUSINESS BABY! [♱] rta / messy eater

[cygnetstare]

♱—— those who know cygnetstare - strange as she is, made more menacing by the jagged scar dancing across her throat, she is sociable - know that she is a creature of the tunnels. the chimera less works in them than lives and breathes them, occasionally sleeping within the comfortingly dank caverns. the onset of yellowcough into their clan's heart, even with the sick banished to the abandoned badger set, has driven many of their tunnelers to spend more time than ever hidden beneath the earth, hopefully away from the creeping claws of illness. and cygnetstare is no exception - though they would die for the good of windclan in a heartbeat, to die useless under the talons of illness would be a waste indeed.

and so, it's no doubt a surprise for her clanmates to see her emerging into camp. and though their ribs are jutting, their vertebra visible and their stomach a concave waste—illness does not wrack her body. this is merely how cygnetstare looks, and despite her skeletal form, her forelegs and chest are thinly roped with new sinew from long days and nights spent underground, working on the new tunnel and carrying out their standard duties. her sunken eyes glitter bright and pale with pleasure as she pads in at dusk, no doubt in search of food from the fresh-kill pile to inhale a quick meal before they return to their work.

despite the tragedy battering windclan, their spirits are not dulled - the opposite, in fact, and the chimera takes on a fresh glow of pleasure at how tunnel work is progressing—despite the recent setback—as they haul a blackbird from the fresh-kill pile. dirt-smudged and corpse-thin, they look as though they're a new corpse broken from the grave, but the way they tear hungrily into the bird's meat, blood smearing her muzzle and spattering the earth, betrays her place among the living.

NOT YET CORPSES (♱) 𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑳𝑳, 𝑾𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑻

• ooc: little rta thread >:-)
  
• nothing here, have a nice day :-)
• 
  — cygnetstare
  — she/they ; tunneler of windclan ; 35 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by dejavu
  — <-- art by raenya
  

​

 

[breezerunner]

Breezerunner is no stranger to the way the tunnelers seem to disappear for any length of time. Their many patrols and lengthy times spent running through the many cobwebbed tunnels beneath WindClan territory are all-consuming no doubt. He's grown accustomed over time to rarely seeing his own siblings; not that they want much to do with him anyways these days. Most of the time WindClan camp is packed with moor runners, and it seems the tunnelers exist as a mere figment of thought that are ever-present. Almost as if they are an omnipotent force. He supposes that isn't too far off- WindClan's tunnels lead to many hiding places and worlds, after all.

So when Breezerunner spots Cygnetstare, he can't help but stare for a bit longer than he should. His mind is immediately brought to Wormwing and Mossdust. Where are they? What do they look like? Do they look just as angular and emaciated and bony and dirty and sunken? Cygnetstare seems unbothered by her physical state, their focus is primarily driven towards moving smoothly through camp and feeding themself. Breezerunner frowns. Do all tunnelers follow the same formula? It's hard work to be sure, and he can't help but to worry about his siblings. Maybe he was never cut out to be a tunneler after all.

"You look as if you're starving," he comments dryly from where he lingers nearby. He means well, but he isn't privy to the way it likely comes across. Breezerunner scowls- not in a look of distate or disgust- as he watches Cygnetstare tear up the bird carcass. The blood spatters both them and the ground beneath them, but he isn't sure they could get much dirtier. "Would you want to have more?" The question comes out awkward and jaunty, and the moor runner is postured towards the fresh-kill pile as if silently offering to get more food for Cygnetstare.
​

 

[sunlitpaw]

shadow of the moon
—————— ( ☼ ) ——————

Sunlitkit wanted so badly to know what the tunnels were like. With her whole life so far spent entirely in WindClan's camp, the tunnels themselves were almost more of a legend than an integral part of the Clan. Some Clanmates would come home reeking of dirt (was that rude to say?) and flecked with pieces of earth but that was the most Sunlitkit would ever get a glimpse of it. Her father never came back from the tunnels, and her ðir even less so when he was always attending to patients, gathering herbs, or spending time with Cottonpaw (or her and her littermates, of course!). The sun beginning to set had kindled a sleepiness in the kit, lazing next to her ðir's den and passively enjoying the presence of her family in peaceful quiet as the rest of the Clan readied themselves for night time. Cats were slowly filtering back into camp from their excursions out, and Sunlitkit prided herself on slowly remembering their names - and who was worth avoiding. The skeleton of a cat weasels into camp, one Sunlitkit doesn't immediately recognize, and her pelt bristles in discomfort. No one else seems particularly phased by their presence, even as they go and grab something from the freshkill pile. This cat looked like they'd snuck out of her ðir's den already dead, and yet there they were, eating a... uh.... oh stars, that was a bit gross.

Sunlitkit's nose wrinkles slightly as blood splatters the patched tunneler, making an even messier display of herself. Even Rivekit had more manners when eating, but she doesn't dare voice such a thought. The sun-patched kitten slowly creeps closer behind Breezerunner, curiosity slowly overwhelming her fear of Cygnetstare. "Excuse me," Sunlitkit speaks softly, eyes nervously flicking between Cygnetstare and Breezerunner. The little girl leans herself away from the two in unease. "Why do you eat like that?" Sunlitkit questions, a gentle tilt of her head accompanying her words. She doesn't recognize her question might come across as rude. "Does it make food taste better?" Sunlitkit questions with sincerity.

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✦　　. 　 ˚　.   It takes great skill to be a tunneler. Sunstride can only be grateful that he does not have it, or the necessary physique. The tall, broad-shouldered tom could barely fit within one if he was desperate. Moving about in them with any measure of agility would be near impossible. Should his litter take after his structure, they too should be spared from the life that Cygnetstare clings to. Something honorable, certainly, but it seemed to attract the strangest among them. Those that thrived in the dark and stumbled about beneath the sunshine; those that cowered from the birds and clouds overhead, but moved about at night almost as well as they must beneath the dirt. He may not understand it, or want it for himself, yet on another he can honor it.

Curling his great form behind Sunlitkit, casting a shadow in the fading light that falls protectively over one of his gentler kits, he smiles, first to Cygnetstare in a flash of welcome, and then to the patched youth in gentle comfort. Both he and Wolfsong had noticed the unease that lingered about Sunlitkit. It is good that she gets out now, reaching for words with an unfamiliar figure. Cygnetstare may not be the safest conversation partner among WindClan's warriors, but she would do no harm. "I do not eat with such enthusiasm myself, but I can only think that it is the reason for it. Speed can hardly make a meal taste better, can it?" He raises his brow, inviting the tunneler to add along to the train of thought should she have a different answer. Breezerunner is far more tactful even in the stunted words that he offers, and though the offer is not meant for him, he pulls a small bird for himself and sets it before Sunlitkit.

"Why don't you practice plucking the feathers as you listen? They may line your nest tonight, an offering for questions answered, and dreams of many more to ask."

𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘖𝘕; 𝘚𝘜𝘕-𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚𝘖𝘔𝘌  ╱╱ 9.13.2023 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• ✦　　. 　 ˚　.  SUNSTRIDE. FORMERLY SUNNVAR. HE - HIM - HIS OR THEY - THEM. LEAD WARRIOR OF WINDCLAN. 4 YEARS OLD. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ——————
  
  
  ——  a tall auburn tabby with thick fur and bright glacial eyes. sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond it, with fur that flames red and deepens to a burnt amber with every stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of them. he radiates confidence and self-assured authority.
  
  

  ✦ NPC x NPC. DECEASED MOTHER, ESTRANGED FATHER. NO LITTERMATES. MATE TO WOLFSONG. FATHER TO BEARKIT, SINGEDKIT, RIVEKIT, SUNLITKIT, AND FEATHERKIT ——

• "speech"

​