pafp TO SAFER GROUNDS — intro to tunnels

[cygnetstare]

♱—— the wounds on her throat freshly closed, cygnetstare has left the medicine den with a new duty to guide her paws; an apprentice. they're pleased, unsure of how they'll perform as a mentor, but happy with sootstar's decision nonetheless. that she's been chosen to mentor one of scorchstreak's kits is encouraging—they carry a lot of respect for the calico, both as a lead warrior and as a fellow tunneler. it's interesting, she muses to herself as she guides the freshly named luckypaw along the well-worn routes of their territory, to think she will be responsible for this young cat for nearly nine moons. sootstar has trusted her to guide the tom through the sometimes dangerous process of a tunneler's apprenticeship—the stars know she has her own scars to prove that.

"ayuh, here we are. have a seat, there's a few things i wanna tell ya before we go in." cygnetstare seats themself outside the yawning mouth of a tunnel entrance; today she's decided to introduce luckypaw to the tunnels where he will presumably work for the rest of his life. they're not exactly eager to sit out here under the staring sun, but they're going to lay these ground rules now—though inevitably a good scare or two will hammer the lessons home more than her words in the end. viscera eyes glance over the new apprentice, making sure he's paying attention; these rules are what will help him survive the first few moons of adjusting to the tunnels.

"alright," they begin, the short dark fur along their spine bristling; she can recall learning these rules herself, moons ago, fresh and unsure. "first of all, you never go into the tunnels alone. always bring a friend, preferably two, even once you're a warrior in ya own right. second, you always leave a scent trail, same as markin' a border, so you can get back out. i'll be leavin' my own, but i expect you to try it today." her gaze flicks to luckypaw's face again, hoping the apprentice is internalizing these vital rules, and she continues, "now, i don't expect you to know everything already, but if you're rememberin' one thing today, make it this: if ya hear dripping water, you get right on outta there, ayuh?"

there will be time, moons of time, for luckypaw to learn the nuances of scent and sound and feel. she doesn't expect him to be able to move from the deepest tunnels to the surface by the way the breeze ruffles his fur as she's learned to do, but they expect him to remember these rules. they get to their paws, eager to leave the sun and enter the blessed familiarity of the earth, "and make sure to stay close—i think that's all. you ready to head on in, kid?"

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┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:

• ooc: please wait for @LUCKYKIT to post!
  

• 

• ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze) she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 16 ☾s —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan. —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• battle stuff goes here for fights

​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

Wide eyes are fixed on everything and nothing all at once as Luckypaw follows dutifully after Cygnetstare, taking in all the new sights especially, though the new scents and smells are just as overwhelming. It feels all-or-nothing, going from a kit tucked safely in the confines of camp to an apprentice with the world only pawsteps away, and all things told, he thinks he's adjusting pretty well to the change. Well, for him, at least - the vast, open moor still sends a prickle down his spine, too openly expansive for his tastes and duly lacking in cover. Not that he's going to be spending all his time out here anyway; the true subject of this visit lies just ahead, dark entrance looking...almost unassuming, actually. Intimidating, since he knows the tunnels run deep and wide, but less so for his brief foray with Scorchstreak. For a moment, Luckypaw wishes that his mother were the one leading him today, sending a glance to Cygnetstare, though he knows he should stop that kind of wishful thinking right now. Surely they'll be seeing Scorchstreak around, but he just can't rely on her presence as a certain; from now on, it's Cygnetstare he'll have to look to, even if the thought makes his stomach churn slightly.

As Cygnetstare seats themselves outside the tunnel entrance, he mirrors the action, focusing intently so as not to miss a single word. It's one thing to make a mistake in camp, perhaps getting in another's way and earning a grumble or two, but it's something else entirely to make one in the tunnels, especially on his very first real outing as an apprentice. Mishaps and mistakes happen, Luckypaw's been told, especially given his inexperience, but he's determined not to embarrass himself so quickly. More importantly, though, messing up in the tunnels is dangerous - Scorchstreak has already emphasized that point numerous times, and it's likely to be at the forefront of his thoughts every time he enters the tunnels. The first rule is to make sure not to be alone down there - Cygnetstare, as his mentor, will always be there, but he wonders if they'll share any other similar companions. Scorchstreak's partner is Redrumble, for whom Rumblepaw is named for (and what a shame it is they're not here beside him, learning to explore the tunnels) - does Cygnetstare have a normal partner, too? Not one to interrupt, Luckypaw saves the question for a later time.

Rule two - leave a scent trail to find the way back out. Of all the things he's considered about the tunnels, this is one that seemingly slipped his mind; he'd assumed that you just had to learn the tunnels to find your back out, which in retrospect seems silly and a tad horrifying. That would explain why the scent of cats is so strong, stronger even than it seemed to be out in the middle of the moorlands. It's comforting to know that Cygnetstare will be leaving their trail today, though worry gnaws at him that he'll one day have to rely on his own work one day. Hopefully he'll have moons and moons of practice by then; for now, Luckypaw will settle for a nod of acknowledgement. Third rule is to avoid the sound of water - to avoid getting swept away in an underground flood, his mind supplies, and he can't help but shiver at the terrible thought. "Got it," he affirms in response to the strangely lilting words. Three important rules aren't so bad for a first visit, and they have the added benefit of seeming self-explanatory, although he almost finds himself wishing there were more, not feeling quite ready for his apprenticeship to feel so real.

Still, there are some things that just can't be postponed, and as relieved as Luckypaw would feel, he'd also be equally upset if his training was delayed, whether his fault or otherwise. Cygnetstare stands, and he takes that as a cue to rise to his paws as well, feeling the sparse grass beneath his paws. In a few moments, it'll be dirt - real tunnel dirt - and he has to admit, it's pretty exciting. His first trip down into the tunnels alongside his new mentor! Rather than focus on his worries, he tries to get himself feeling pumped up; after all, surely that's how all the other new apprentices are feeling. Really, there's nowhere else he'd rather be despite the nervous energy setting his paws alight - now that he's had a taste of apprenticeship, Luckypaw doesn't feel particularly inclined to go back to kithood, and racing across the moors seems unappealing in comparison to making Scorchstreak proud in the tunnels. "Never go alone, always leave a trail, leave if you hear water dripping - yeah, I'm ready, I think," he says, partially to himself, and though he can't quell his uncertainty entirely, the determined glint in his gaze serve as just as much of a testament to his preparedness as his words.​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​

 

[Badgermoon]

Though he had known it was inevitable - and foretold in their evolving sizes and shapes - Badgermoon could not help but feel somewhat sorrowful that his children were to be separated, now that they were apprentices. True, they'd still see one another around camp and they'd all sleep under the stars, free of the nursery, but there was a closeness which had been severed with the promotion to -paws. It didn't help that the litter was split in two: half tunnelers, half-moor-runners. This only felt fair, as he and Scorchstreak were of opposite occupations, but it still made him feel a little twist of sorrow in his chest. Perhaps parents always feel this way. the deputy mused. I should ask Sootstar or Weaselclaw if they felt like this when their kits were apprenticed.

It didn't matter enormously, anyway, he assured himself - StarClan was guiding his kits' pawsteps just as surely as they guided his own. Their destinies were to serve WindClan in their own unique ways, as it was his to serve it in his way. Besides, he was going to make certain he still spent time with his children - or, if nothing else, that they knew he loved them and supported them. That was why he could be seen bounding towards Luckypaw and his eccentric mentor, @SCORCHPAW presumably in tow, his shadow-dark tail like a pennant behind him. "Wait!" called the deputy, skidding to stop before the pair could disappear into the depths of the earth, where he could not reach them.

"I just wanted to say good luck to you, my little clover." purred Badgermoon after he caught his breath, his yellow eyes bright as they surveyed his son. Bending, he attempted to rasp his tongue over the mottled youth's fur a few times before stepping back, his scarred chest swelling with pride. "You'll do great, Luckypaw." he said with ironclad conviction. "Walk safe, pay attention, and have fun." he glanced over at Cygnetstare and gave the chimera a look that was firm, though not hostile: it said, "keep him safe, or else". Then he waited, in case the siblings had anything to say to one another, before turning to depart. He had his own apprentice to train.​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

Scorchpaw is obedient in all ways she can be, so when Badgermoon tears off their path towards her brother, she follows without a word. Her obedience is not the only thing that compels her, though; she likes to see Luckypaw, likes to fix him with a proud gaze, likes to ensure he is doing well when she remembers it. Today though she does not feel so charitable. Today, she sees the blotted tom doing the things that she ought to be doing. She feels teeth in her chest, compressing and ripping the soft meat. What is the feeling called? Is she still jealous? The tortie's tail flicks quietly as she assesses him; her bicolored gaze is much more critical than it has been in the past. Scorchpaw's whiskers twitch as she mentally sums up her findings: he's nervous. He's nervous, and he's being brave, and he's determined, and he's doing a good job-- but he's nervous, and she latches onto the fact. I wouldn't be nervous. It should be me in the tunnels.

But Scorchpaw says nothing of the sort; she just lets it simmer in the look she gives her littermate, at once jealous and guilty for the jealousy. She should be happy, after all. She has Badgermoon, and she does enjoy the feeling of the grasses beneath her paws, the freedom of the sky above her. She shouldn't wish to take Luckypaw's place, she should be grateful to serve WindClan in the path that's been chosen for her. She wishes for it anyway, but she tries harder to suppress that fact as she reconsiders her brother sitting at the precipice of her dreams. "Don't get crushed," Scorchpaw rumbles, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. He'll be fine. His play tunnels had always been better than hers anyway, though she reminisces with a tinge of bitter wanting. Her tail waves behind her as Badgermoon turns to leave, though she lingers for a few breaths, still staring at her littermate. "See you later."

And then she is off, hopping away after her mentor, butterfly wing flashing blue in the sun.​

​

 

[cygnetstare]

♱—— they're glad to see that luckypaw is paying attention—they would expect nothing less from one of scorchstreak's children, carrying the proud bloodline of a true tunneler. more than that, it is vital that he pays close attention to her words now; yes, a good scare might hammer the lessons home, but tunnel accidents can be all too common for apprentices; she has her own scar, old and zigzagging over her spine, to prove it. when you're older it can become a tale for kits, a bragging right even, but that's assuming you survive it. she knows all too well how dangerous the first months of tunneling can really be, before one's attuned to the twisting paths, which ones lead to prey and the surface and life and which plummet to the dark graveyard heart of the earth.

needless to say, she's glad he's taking this seriously.

he answers her with a short but serious affirmation, and their shredded ears twitch—he'll make a good tunneler yet if he keeps this attitude. just as he rises to his paws, as cygnetstare prepares to guide the tortie tom beneath the earth for the first time, she's interrupted. their pale eyes turn on the advancing forms of badgermoon and his apprentice as the deputy calls out for the pair to wait! they pause, face blank, as their new apprentice's father and sister arrive to give him a send-off, it seems. badgermoon exchanges proud words with luckypaw, scorchpaw offers a bit of banter, and then the pair are off with a final resounding look—keep him safe, the yellow gaze speaks without words. she offers a short affirmative nod as the moor-runners depart, turning back to the mottled tom.

"that was touchin'. we can head in proper now, follow me close." her gravelly lilt is tinged with faint amusement as she finally ducks into the tunnel's yawning mouth, her muscles relaxing as she slips into the environment she feels most comfortable in. instantly she's taking in information with ease, without the overwhelming environment of the moor; the hot smell of prairie-grass they're leaving behind, the familiar smell of dirt, the faintest whiff of rabbit. they're not hunting today, not yet, so she doesn't pursue it. she moves through the tunnels easily with her tiny frame, mewing, "hope you're ready for some creepin' about. best get used to it."

"alright," she follows the joke with a question, its tone interested but not putting too much pressure on the new apprentice (she hopes), "tell me, what can ya sense around ya? smellin', hearin', touchin'?"

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┏━⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊ OOC ☽ ◯ ☾ INFORMATION₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ☄. *. ⋆♱･ﾟ:

• ooc: i'm cool with ending the thread here or continuing depending on what hijinks would like, but it is now officially in the tunnels :D
  

• 

• ♱ cygnetstare — for their downy kitten-fur and perceptiveness (or uncanny gaze) she/they ; afab gender apathetic — windclan — tunneler — 17 ☾s —— cygnetstare is a corpselike chimera, split between long albino fur and a short black smoke pelt; their eyes are an unsettling pink. her creepy demeanour distracts from a strange fascination with death and an obsessive loyalty to windclan. —— smells like grave-dirt and blood ; sounds like vc tbd ; speech in #BF959C, thoughts in #000000 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; will start fights ; won't flee unless ordered ; won't show mercy ; will kill or maim —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, single, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, long-term romance, plotting ; not open to unplanned battles, flings penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• battle stuff goes here for fights

​

 

[LUCKYPAW]

Whiskers quiver - this is it, the first time he steps paw into the tunnels out on the moor, the true mark of a tunneler apprentice - and before Luckypaw can finish processing, or even begin, really, he grinds to a stop. Wait! The voice, or more likely the word said, freezes him in his tracks, wide eyes turning up to look at Badgermoon's and Scorchpaw's approach. Quick as their pace, there doesn't appear to be anything wrong - nothing chasing them down, no enemy or lurking predator - and as they come to a stop, Badgermoon addressing him gently, the fur along his back finally flattens out, alarm fading. "You scared me!" he exclaims, though a smile borne of restless nerves rests upon his maw. Evidently, he's feeling jumpy, though is that really such a bad thing, he wonders? Better to jump when it doesn't matter than fail to react to something important, right? Easily leaning into his father's quick affection, he savors the moment, short as it may be - after all, he'll be in the tunnels more often than not, and Badgermoon will be keeping busy with Scorchpaw, so the times for them to exchange little interactions like this may be few and far between these next moons. "Thank you - and I will. It'll be fine," he replies, last sentence added on both for Badgermoon and for his own self-reassurance.

Rounding onto Scorchpaw next, the look she gives him is disquieting, doubly so coming from his littermate, and yet he can't quite decipher it, either; it's enough to give him pause where there shouldn't be any, tail tip twitching in the silence. He wants to say something to her, too - something about how fast she had raced across the moors, like Badgermoon's shadow, about how he's sure that she'll have a good first day, too, soaking up the sun, but nothing feels right. What would feel right is Scorchpaw beside him, preparing to slip into the tunnels alongside him, pelts brushing up against one another, but their differences are now laid as stark as their contrasting fur. She speaks first, telling him not to get crushed (and sure, he's considered the possibility, but not on the first day-) and then the strange expression across her face is gone, replaced with a hint of a smile, and, well, he's not sure what to think of that. Maybe it hadn't ever been directed at him in the first place - maybe there had been something he'd missed, something to upset her so. Better not to dwell on it, he decides, though he knows it'll haunt him later; instead, he chooses to respond in kind. "You too," Luckypaw replies, though his smile quickly falters when he realizes what he's said. "Um, not that you're gonna get crushed or anything - or, you shouldn't get crushed, not on the moors. You won't - I won't get crushed, neither of us will get crushed," he tries to correct, words quickly spiraling away from him until finally jaws slam shut in a bid not to embarrass himself further.

The silence rises up again, stretching forward, and Badgermoon turns, ready to head off and out to start the pair's own day; selfishly, he wishes they'd stay just a bit longer, spend just a bit longer before separating, but they've all got duties to attend to now that call them their separate ways. Still, though, Scorchpaw's intense gaze is trained on him, and just before he feels the need to shrink away she's off, leaving behind one last farewell. "Yeah, see you soon..." he trails off, watching as Badgermoon and Scorchpaw turn back to whatever they had been doing, leaving him with a stinging sensation. For a moment, Luckypaw wishes for Scorchstreak - after all, she's a tunneler, just like he's going to be - but it's not Scorchstreak's voice that urges him onward, nor Badgermoon's. Smile faded to something more serious, he turns back to face Cygnetstare, shoulders squaring as he watches her slip with ease right into the tunnel. This time, no interruptions. Going from aboveground to belowground, it's not as drastic of a change as he'd once expected, especially not since he'd already done it once before. Thinking of his previous trip brings him back to Scorchstreak, which brings him back to Badgermoon and Scorchpaw, which - giving a shake of his head, the apprentice focuses in on Cygnetstare's words, sticking as close as he dares to her odd pelt.

Paws thrumming against the packed dirt, he finds each step both easier and more nerve-wracking, descending deeper and deeper and further from the only exit he knows. At once, it's exhilarating and frightening - he's in the tunnels! He's an apprentice, and he's walking the tunnels, taking the bends and feeling the dirt beneath his toes. Luckypaw can't help but giggle softly, giddy with emotion, though he's quick to sober up at his mentor's question. What could he sense? Well, the most obvious answer is that it's dark, but surely that's not what they're looking for - instead, he leans into his other senses, trying to wrangle them all long enough to untangle their input. "Welll...it smells like dirt. Earthy." he amends, trying to pick out something else underneath the heavy, rich overtone. "Like other cats, too. Kinda...faint, 'cause it's covered up by the dirt." And what of hearing? "Um, I mostly just hear us. Our paws on the ground. Sounds a little different than in camp or on the grass I guess - since the dirt is all packed instead?" he hedges, not wanting to offer the clear-cut answer alone. "I can feel the dirt below me and beside me, and if I stick my tail up above me, too. It feels...uh, secure? Stable? Worn-down, maybe." Luckypaw hopes it's a satisfactory answer, and suddenly he's glad for the darkness that's swallowed them up - it's unnerving, yes, but also secure in that he doesn't have to face any looks or glances his way, no facial interpretations necessary with no guiding light.​

[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]​