THEN FALL INTO NOTHING / tumble

When Sedgepounce runs, it's what he imagines flying is like. The birds of the moors seem effortless when they swoop from the sky—and though he's not a bird, and running is not what he would call necessarily easy, a small part of him still likes to believe they're one in the same.

His paws trample the undergrowth; deadened stalks of withered grassblades beaten by moons of rapid rushways, paths carved into the heathery flank of Rabbit's Run. There's nothing chasing him and nothing to be chased (at least, not that he knows of). Just wandering tunnels leading him forward, enjoying the moors just for the sake of it.

There wasn't much time to do much of anything other than marching, crying, or fighting on the journey. In between bouts of near-death experiences was hours of grueling nothing, trudging forward for what felt like forever. Already it feels like a lifetime ago. In the moment unending, but now just a blip on the radar. Sedge doesn't even have a scar to remember it by.

He rushes forward. Ducks to the right, into a new path. Dodges a rock. Parries left. Second nature is flooding back, so it's like Sedgepounce never left at all.

Until his foot catches on an upturned vein of earth that he's sure wasn't there before. (A new tunnel entrance?) And he falls.

He falls hard.

There's a hill to catch him as Sedgepounce is thrown into the air, a bitten off caterwaul lodging itself into his throat as he tumbles. "AAGH!" Frost-scorched grass bits fly up around his body rolls downhill. He's going too fast to think straight, let alone catch himself—Sedge careens down the hill like a ragdoll until he reaches the bottom, rolling to a sudden stop on his hindquarters.

He lays there, head spinning, like a turtle that's been knocked on its shell and can't get on its feet.

Overwhelmed and a little battered, but otherwise fine. "Hhhhhhggggghh..."​
 
It's been a while since Snakehiss has burst into a run just for the sake of it. He's done plenty of fighting and crawling away from an onslaught of rogues, but no running hot laps around Rabbit's Run like he used to. Flying across the moors has always been a favored activity of Snakehiss', a strength even. Now that WindClan was beginning to get back on its feet again, the moor runner had begun the process of sharpening up on his skills.

The sleek, black tom found himself wandering near the narrow stretch of land, memories of training with Badgermoon threatening to surface in his mind. Fortunately ( though not for Sedgepounce ), he quickly is pulled into a distraction — a yowl and a black and white splashed form tumbling to a stop in the grass. Snakehiss had not witnessed the entire event, though he could only assume that Sedgepounce had tripped over something. Stumbling over your paws, or perhaps a rock, was a part of any moor cat's experience. He was intent on making the other warrior feel embarrassed about it, though. Again, he needed a distraction.

"You seem to have forgotten how to traverse the moors. Is the mountain air still filling your head?" The tom snorts, an underlying tone of amusement accompanying his light insult. Snakehiss stands looking, not bothering to approach and see if Sedgepounce is alright. He can get to his own paws, he's sure.


  • gJTx1fs.png
    SNAKEHISS
    —— he/him; warrior ( moor runner ) of windclan
    —— bisexual; single; not looking
    —— long-limbed black tom with green eyes, a small white chest patch, and a notable bite mark on his right foreleg
    —— "speech", thoughts, attack
    —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
    —— penned by beatles
 
The bird he had been stalking explodes in a burst of panicked wingbeats, and Sparkspirit bolts upright from the moor grass just as comically. Sunset-tipped ears are pricked tall and his eyes are wide as a full moon against a face that is still as stone. He can't even lean into the instinctive reaction of irritation — the bird had been his distraction and his dinner both, he has every right to be angry — but his mind is blessedly clear instead. His mind doesn't race back to the battle, to blood in his mouth and short fur prickling his tongue. Instead it's a flurry of what in StarClan's name just happened and is that Snakehiss' voice? drawing his paws over the crest of the hill until he looks down upon...

Sedgepounce? Splattered belly-up like the clouds had dropped him there, distantly dazed and woozy. The warrior comes down the hill with a hop-skip-slide, claws digging into the earth to keep himself from following the other warrior a little too closely. (If he teeters briefly on the edge of it even so, the embarrassment of that most definitely doesn't reach his face. Like Snakehiss said: it was to be expected of any moor runner.) "You didn't split anything open, did you? Or are we pretending that didn't happen at all? Watching the clouds, maybe?" The warrior forces himself off balance and flops similarly to his back. (Heart up in his throat, tight tight tight as vulnerability squeezes his lungs. He shouldn't bare his belly like this.) Deep breath, and a slow stretch of his limbs to force ease. "It's not a bad idea."
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  • OOC.
  • 🗲  .   ˚ .  SPARKSPIRIT. HE - HIM - HIS. 14 MOON OLD MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. VERY LOYAL TO HIS CLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ————
    sparkchibi.png
    ——  a trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
    ✦ ECHOLIGHT x ELMBREEZE. ADOPTED BY YEWBERRY. BRIGHTFAM, BUT SOMEWHAT ESTRANGED DUE TO HIS LOYALTY TO WINDCLAN. ————————
  • "speech"
 


Unlike the trio already present at Rabbit's Run, Rattleheart really wasn't much of a runner. He could fly in the breeze alongside other Windclanners if necessary, but he'd always preferred the relatively slow pace of the tunnels below - with the only bursts of speed occasionally coming from needing to get away from the infrequent intruder. Though that didn't mean the monochrome feline never allowed himself to run out over the grass and feel a certain sense of freedom that he found he could never find anywhere else. Not even in the safety of Windclan's camp these days, considering the tension that hung like a heavy raincloud over them all. It was seemingly just lucky that he'd never experienced an awful tumble while others were lingering around.

Sedgepounce wasn't given the same opportunity, his loud groan catching the tunneler's attention from where he lingered nearby, having been searching for a rather plump mouse that he had driven out of the tunnels nearby. His search was abandoned for the moment, attention instead focused on the noises of pain and the presence of both Snakehiss and Sparkspirit nearby. With quiet and careful pawsteps, Rattleheart followed after the both of them, eventually settling into a seated position near where Sparkspirit had chosen to flop down alongside Sedgepounce. "That was quite the airtime you got, if it's any consolation. You were very nearly like a bird, just... not so graceful in your landing." He was trying his damnedest to be sympathetic, though even he couldn't help a touch of amusement from tinging his words.

Parting his jaws, he was at least unable to detect any hint of blood on the air, indicating that Sedgepounce hadn't messed up badly enough to hurt himself. That in and of itself was a relief, something that he expressed with a purr. "And it doesn't seem like you've caused yourself any wounds... which is very good, I doubt Wolfsong would want to spare too many herbs with leafbare approaching." Though that might have been quite the entertaining exchange to watch happen, the image of a sheepish Sedgepounce explaining what had happened to Wolfsong causing a choked off little chuckle to leave Rattleheart's muzzle.
[ PENNED BY EO ]
 
His head's spinning. On the hilltop, an angel haloed by the cool silver sun. Someone come to help him to his feet and chase the burrs from his battered pelt. Sedgepounce blinks up unseeingly at their looming frame, soothed.

But then they open their mouth to speak, and it's not an angel. A devil. No, worse than a devil...Snakehiss!

Sedge has nothing to say to him, so he just burbles in response. "Bleeeegh." He throws a paw over his eyes in lieu of getting up, just in time for Sparkspirit and Rattleheart to come witness his ultimate act of clumsiness—whatever, it's not like anyone can keep a secret around here anyway.

Sparkspirit flops down next to him. The spot of warmth is welcome as the ground continues to leech the heat from his crumpled body. The world's stopped whirling like a tornado and the sharp pains of his fall have all dulled to an ache, so now it's a conscious decision to stay splayed on the floor. "Cloud-watching," he echoes in agreement, paw still lanced over his eyes.

Something settles in the way of the sun, casting a shadow over his face, and Sedgepounce cracks open an eye to see Rattleheart's humor-warmed face. The warrior's tactfulness leaves much to be desired, but Sedge isn't immune from laughing at himself now and again—a grin twists onto his face as Rattleheart's expression jitters, hiding his laugh behind a dubious cough. "So it was cool for a second there?" he wagers jokingly. It felt ridiculous when he was falling. It probably looked pretty ridiculous too.

"C'mon, Rattleheart," Sedge says brightly. "If you lay next to us it'll look like we're all chillin'! No one will know what happened!" Ignoring Snakehiss. But, well, that's easy.