the funeral march ✘ digging

[SMOKESTAR]

He couldn't stand it any longer, he hated it here, he hated this temporary camp, he hated their barely sufficient dens, he hated the breeze getting through the cracks in the patchwork walls, he hated-hated-HATED-HATED-he was going mad. Smokethroat left the makeshift shelter early in the morning, he hadn't slept well recently and being in this wretched place where they had suffered multiple losses and been humilated only stung even more. He'd always had a hard time falling asleep, resting at all, that he was even able to close his eyes sometimes was a triumph but lately not even having a shared nest had taken the edge from his nerves. The dark tom felt like his blood was itching, prickling through him with sharp shards of ice, every step was as if he tread across thorns and he was so antsy and restless that his mood was worsening more and more as the days passed by. Outside the Beech Copse he had wandered with lashing tail and clenched jaw, teeth white and grit tight in a stark contrast to his midnight pelt. It was there he found the old burrow beneath a sturdy tree, encased in gnarled roots; not quite big enough for him. But it could be. It could be big enough. So he began to dig...

Patrols, hunting, grabbing food, checking in on the camp, none of it mattered for the morning he was lost in a feverish haze; claws raking the earth until they began to snag, pads cracking from the dryness of the ground as he pressed every deeper down into the depths of the soil. Smokethroat did not stop, sweeping kicks sent rolling waves of dirt and debris behind him; a fish tail slapping the river's surface. The scraping and scruffling was not quiet, he made no attempt to muffle his noise making nor the low growl that had begun to rise in his throat like a tremor; wavering and humming; a dying bird's final cry. Claw, scoop, sweep back, kick, repeat-again and again. The tracks his paws made with indent of claws began to streak red but he ignored it. He found himself panting, minutes became hours, how long had he been away from camp, how long had he been out here, he didn't know. He didn't care. When the burrow was widened enough for an entire cat to fit inside he pushed himself forward into it, blinking back shaving of the burrow wall filtering down over his face as he wedged himself into the hollow and exhausted settled down in a tucked ball to finally rest in the cool dark.

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[Ooc]
Local man vanished for an entire day to dig a nap hole.
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[lichenstar]

The tension that had risen the longer they'd been trapped away from their real home were tangible... so sharp in the air each morning you could almost reach out and touch it... hold it. Lichentail spent every morning feeling strangled by it... suffocated. There were small moments of freedom when it didn't feel so heavy like when Mosspaw went about another silly morning ritual to enjoy the sun. There was peace... but it felt like a facade and she was certain she wasn't the only one that felt that way.

The suspicion became all the more reasonable when Smokethroat up and disappeared just after the sun's rise. Lichentail hadn't thought much of his absence before patrols had been sent out- she spent most of the early part of the day hunting, it meant fewer cats would be in the way if she decided to look for some birds instead of getting her paws wet.

But when she'd come back later in the afternoon, no one had seen the lead warrior still... It was like he'd run away from home... if you could even call it their real home when the original one was so tauntingly nearby and damaged.

Worried for his safety (Twolegs were about, he knew that right? Or had he been stupid enough to try to find Ashpaw alone?), she'd set out from the camp with the muddied scent of his anger leading away from camp. Trailing around for awhile and getting misdirected from the latency of her search, it took way longer than it should've to travel the meager distance to a..... hole?

Poking her head around to make sure she wasn't completely mad, the molly was certain this is where the trail ended... but she didn't see anything but a bunch of displaced dirt... a tree trunk... Was a mole here recently? Could a cat lose a fight to a mole? Was it a MOB of moles? Growing suspicious of the silence and the missing RiverClanner not in her line of sight still, she figured he must be nearby and just... stuck or something!

"SMOOOOKEEEEETHROATTTTT! Where are you?"​

 

[Petalnose]

I FIND COMFORT IN THE SOUND AND THE SHAPE OF THE HEART ⋆⁺₊⋆

Petalnose had took note of the prolonged disappearance of the lead warrior, calmly looking around camp. She normally wouldn't bother, but Ashpaws disappearance worried the patched warrior to an extent. She noticed how frustrated he seemed lately, but she questioned if that was just a normal way of Smokethroat. Didn't he always have a grumpy exterior such as her? Nevertheless, she did not question him. Neither did she really want to stir anything, she knew she'd brush others off and get all agitated with clanmates being in her fur. He had to feel the same.

Since she had awoken from her incident, the temporary camp was all she knew. So, Smokethroat stirring around frequently was what she thought was part of his character. With insomnia, she knew most of the warriors sleeping habits. Though, she did not see Smokethroat in the den lately, making her hum in wonder.

Petalnose silently followed after Lichentail in curiosity, breathing in the scents as she strolled around the territory, peeling off a bit of ways from the blue pointed warrior. She gazed up in the trees, wondering if he knew how to climb. She pressed on the thought that maybe he fell asleep in a tree like Clayfur. The scent led her right back towards Lichentail, occasionally gazing up again until a hole on her way back caused her to fall flat on her face. “What in starclans name!” She huffed in frustration and this time paid attention to the ground, not grooming off the dirt that littered her front. She must be close so the lanky woman didn’t waste time upkeeping her looks. She grunted in surprise and curiosity at the holes, now following them cautiously to Lichentails side.

The she-cat trailed beside the other and then flinched at her call. She decided against complaining, blaming herself for straying so close to her. Plus, Smokethroat needed to know that they were on a look out for him. "He might have went somewhere to get some alone time like I do occasionally." Her eyes then pulled back to the ground, brows creasing in curiosity as she found that this hole was way more deep. It had the slight scent of blood alongside of Smokethroats own individual scent. She crouched, peering in. That's when she found the familiar grey pelt, "Lichentail.. he's right here." She grumbled, standing to her long legs and sneezing some dirt from her nose. "Smokethroat, you don't look like your dying, but I'm going to ask it anyway. You didn't fall in here, correct? You’re alright, yes?" Looks like he’s building his own camp.

Tags​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

If he was being honest he didn't expect his presence to be missed much, when he wasn't ordering cats around he was with Cicadastar and him not being around was often assumed to mean he was with the leader who was probably the only cat who would have given his absence much thought normally. Like Smokethroat didn't notice the way he was oftentimes right nearby, constantly at the edge of his vision like a wandering spirit; a shadow at his every step. Their loss to WindClan had taken more than just blood, than just lives, than just the feeling of safety and the following loss of Sunningrocks had shattered the rest. The patchwork patterned tom was drawn tightly as of late, tense and wary; ice gaze flitting in unease at the slightest provocation. He worried him and he also enraged him, that these battles were being fought without him was more than he could often handle. Maybe he needed a break from it all, maybe that is why he had wandered so far into the territory to dig like a mad man into the ground and hope the earth would retake him.

There's voices and he's faintly aware of them but they're so distant he does not give them much thought, beneath the ground everything sounds muffled and disoriented as though he is hearing from beneath the river itself; the churning of water in his ears louder than any voice can pierce. Smokethroat imagines suffocating in the dirt would be similar to drowning but with less grace. He can ignore the world still until the tremors start and the shrill cry of his own name has that lone orange eye opening in disbelief, had he not covered his scent trail, did he not walk far enough. His head raised and turned, blinking to adjust to the darkness of shadows blocking the exit to his makeshift den and white dappled earth and gray pelts blurred before him. It takes an alarmingly long time before he recognizes them, an even longer time before he even speaks but when he does his voice lacks its usual bite; a tired exhaustion dripping from each word like raindrops upon stone.
"I was sleeping.." He offered no explaination for the hole he'd dug, the mess he had made, his not telling any cat where he had gone, it had not even crossed his mind to do so. The tom flexed his single white paw, claws splayed and dried mud and blood encrusting them that he did not take the time to groom and only resheathed them with a tired grunt of annoyance. "...what do you want?" Smokethroat asked finally, tone light and uncertain as if he was asking himself the question and not the two RiverClanners before him.
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[► Sneezefur.]

IF YOU ONLY LISTEN WITH YOUR EARS I CAN'T GET IN
sneezefur | 28 months | demi-boy | he/him | physically medium | mentally medium | attack in bold #50c878

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well - that's certainly a new one. Sneezefur is drawn over by the loud chatter of his more vocal clanmates, but blinks in a stupefied manner down at smokethroat who seems to have built himself a... burrow maybe? Head cocks to the side enquiringly, but petalnose has already asked the most pertinent question for him. Not that they get much of an answer. But really, the tom just wants to know why the other has done such a thing - is it for comfort? to escape the heat? Sheer boredom? Unsurprisingly their voice fails them so all they can do is watch and wait, hoping perhaps to find the answers they seek this way.

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[hyacinthbreath]

Hyacinthbreath follows close behind the warriors that look for Smokethroat, the tom having been gone for most of the day- even Hyacinth was worried at this point. So many things could go wrong in these moments; he could end up captured, just like Ashpaw had been. Her sleeplessness causes her to miss where they were looking at first, merely tuning their voices into the background until she heard Smokethroat's sleep-riddled groan of complaint. With a chuckle, she makes her way over to the makeshift hole and admires his craftsmanship. It smelled faintly of blood, and she wondered if he had dug this all day. It wouldn't hurt to ask, would it?

"You look like a mole," She chuckles as she leans down to look at her one-eyed friend, sniffing back her laughter. It wasn't appropriate for her to cackle over his misgivings, after all. Something could seriously be wrong. "What's got your tail up your ass, mate?" She asks with a hum, seating herself to the side of the hole to listen for his response. "We were all worried about you."​

RIVERCLAN WARRIOR ✦ WARTORN SOLDIER ✦ 53 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[lichenstar]

Whirling to look at Petalnose as the molly announce Lichentail's eager search had been a bit too broad, the warrior gave a small 'mrr' of curiosity. How had she managed to look over him entirely, that was just silly, she was a great hunter and-

Looking down at the ground where a huge hole had been dug up, she frowned. Oh. Poking her head perilously close to the bleary lead warrior, she sniffed at his face with some amount of concern forcing little twitches of her tail. "Are you sick or something," she asked. It didn't smell like it but what kind of weird behavior was this that couldn't be summed up to some kind of... something! Pulling away as he breathed a short question at her face, the molly shrugged. "You disappeared, had to make sure a fox hadn't gotten you or something- 'Pologies for ruining the nap."

It seemed that it wasn't just her and Petalnose that had that fear either as Sneezefur and Hyacinthbreath rolled up nearby with equally quizzical gazes. The remark that he looked like a mole was not far removed from the truth but the blue point couldn't find it in them to laugh at his situation. Why did he feel the need to hide just to get some sleep? It was alarming... a bit out of character. Rather than commenting on it futher, she waited for the dark furred tom to answer the rather crudely worded question put in front of him.​