private WHERE DID THE PARTY GO;; tunnels

[Mouseflight]

When tasked with checking out tunnels Mouseflight practically jumped at the opportunity, ready to go under the ground once more with a proper patrol as things used to be. It wouldn't be exactly how they had been before - after all, this was to check out the stability of the tunnels the twolegs had messed with - but things were getting there, things were getting closer and closer to being simply WindClan again and Mouseflight couldn't help but be at least a little happy about that, even if it meant moving as carefully as he had ever moved before through the tunnels. They were here to see the stability, to see if they could be worked on and fixed now that the trouble was over and the fires were sure to no longer be a threat.

Eyes had closed as they had entered the tunnels, the warrior's ears pricked and swiveling as he listened for any sign of dirt falling when it shouldn't, any sign of monsters with their giant claws coming back to dig in the tunnels they had already collapsed. When nothing came they would open, the sound of breathing around him for a moment as he got used to the darkness once more before head would turn to those with him. "I'm not hearing anything out of the ordinary, should be safe to move forward a little more, see how far we can go." For though he was named for the speed in which he'd shown in maneuvering through these dark cramped spaces, the other thing the tunneler was known for was his sense of hearing. Though his paws itched to move forward he'd wait to see what Smokestep and Scorchstreak had to say to do so.

⋆｡°✩ threw my voice into the dark

• @SMOKESTEP @SCORCHSTREAK
• 
  ⋆ mousekit - mousepaw - mouseflight
  ⋆ ftm - he/him - 16 moons
  ⋆ bisexual - open to relationship
  ⋆ tunneler of windclan
  ⋆ attack - speech - thought
  ⋆ penned by tikki

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[PINKSHINE]

Pinkpaw creeps alongside her clanmates. By now, she's pretty good at tunneling stuff she thinks. Maybe even warrior good, which is good! Considering that's what she should be soon, anyways. Probably. Warriorness isn't too different from apprenticeness, right? Or was she giving her way her right to have fun forever and ever right after she got that new name? Featherspine was kinda acting like that was the case, but she doesn't really think it has to be... Contrary to popular belief, Scorchstreak could be a little bit fun.

" I had no idea twolegs dig tunnels too. That's freaky, " she comments quietly, cause they were probably sooo bad at it their tunnels would totally collapse on them and kill them forever and stuff if they spoke too loudly. "Imagine finding an underground twoleg den. And they reach for you with their skinny, dirty paws and furless faces... I don't think I could ever go in a tunnel again." That was the unforseen danger of this mission... Forget a tunnel collapse, what if they're all, like, traumatized forever? Umm, but also what Mouseflight said. She's totally paying attention. " How'd you figure out what they were doing before, Scorchstreak? "​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ When the twolegs ruthlessly burned their beloved moorland, they did not merely stop at fire. No, they had to go even further, and not even the tunnels were safe. Massive twoleg claw-marks are drawn through the soil in lines that had stopped the fire from crossing over to the horseplace, both a blessing and a curse. The horseplace has remained untouched by flame—but at the same time, the tunnels nearest to this edge of their territory have become unstable. The deputy cannot in good conscience risk others being trapped in her stead, and so she gathers the patrol meant to check their stability. Bringing a duo of younger warriors is a risk, as is bringing Pinkpaw, but they have all proven themselves capable of handling difficult situations.

Mouseflight’s superior hearing is an advantage in the tunnels, and Scorchstreak nods her assent as he declares it safe to move forth. "I’m glad we have you here to be our ears," she states, dipping her head on instinct even though the younger tunneler cannot see her. "Let’s move on a few tail-lengths then. Slowly." Slowly, carefully, cautiously. That is how most things should be done in times of potential crisis—unlike in the midst of crisis, where things should be done with haste. Her own actions still ring as correct, even if she had gone about them in the wrong manner.

In a low voice, she can hear her apprentice’s words, and attempts to flick her tail against the younger calico’s nose. The continued commentary about finding a twoleg den underground is unnecessary, but amusing. Such a den would be much more frightening than coming across a badger’s den, certainly. "The twolegs don’t dig tunnels—any tunnel large enough for one of them would collapse under its own weight. They dig mediocre trenches instead." Truthfully, she isn’t due whether they do or not—but logically, her thought is sound, isn’t it? "And I figured it out by keeping quiet and observing closely. Small details can easily slip by if you are distracted." A faint rumble could be easily spoken over, or pushed aside as an afterthought. A single mistake could spell death, down in the tunnels.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ she’s a growing bed of thorns

• ooc: —
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stoic and shrewd, but clearly cares deeply for her clan.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[SMOKESTEP]

TAGS — Smokestep brings up the back of the patrol, largely wordless, short ears swiveling in the pitch black as he follows the conversation. Mouseflight signals them forward; Pinkpaw spouts nonsense (albeit entertaining nonsense); Scorchstreak chides her apprentice with an amused anecdote. He adds little to the conversation himself, instead trying his best to pay attention to the sounds and feeling of the tunnel they crawl through. The air is cool down here, a nice respite from the sun-cooked scorch that plagued the moor above them; the scent is all cool, damp dirt and WindClan trademarks. It's... comforting. For a moment, he catches himself thinking Icebreath is behind them all. His heart sinks a little to realize that she isn't.

They advance, slow and cautious, just the way Smokestep likes. "What use does a twoleg have for a trench?" the warrior wonders aloud, tail flicking. Maybe they'd find out soon — he hopes they won't, though. He's had enough of twolegs for a lifetime.​

 

[Mouseflight]

Though it'd never be said allowed, the conversation topic that Pinkpaw had picked was amusing - even if he didn't want to think about the twolegs anymore. All they knew how to do was ruin things; cats were ruined by them when they became kittypets, dogs were trained by them to kill and hunt, their monsters they ride within harm those that go near them, and not to mention the assault on his nostrils anytime a twoleg was near. The four of them move forward slowly and the tunneler lets out a small breath of air from nostrils as Pinkpaw continued on. "I've never seen a twoleg dig with their paws before, only with those big monsters from right before the fires." It was quiet, his words, not wanting to speak too loud for fear of the already potentially fragile tunnel to come tumbling down on them.

Ears would flick around to listen as clanmates continued speaking, when Smokestep asked about the trenches the tri-colored feline would offer a small hum of thought before shaking his head. "Maybe when they're not in their big nests they sleep in them, or store food there, who knows." All he knew was that they had been useful for the fires as well, making it harder for the flames to reach the places past the trenches that both the tunnelers had dug out around camp and the twolegs had dug out around the territory.

Talk died down as they moved forward, Mouseflight's ears moving at every sound that he heard whether it be paws kicking a loose pebble or dirt that became loose from the walls as the cats walked past, sending a small scattering of pebbles their way. One sound made him pause though, paws freezing in place before he'd turn and at the same time would speak "Go, get out now!" A small command of words knowingly heard by the others. The dirt was falling quicker than it should, moved by StarClan knew what to begin to tumble around them. Normal dirt displacement was expected, being packed down by paws that walked along it in patrols and when they dug, but this wasn't normal, this was collapse.

Moving forward the tunneler that was now in the rear would reach forward to push on the cats around him, paws found purchase as he shoved Pinkpaw out of the way, and though she was almost fully grown she was still just small enough compared to Mouseflight for when he pushed for her to lurch forward out of the way as dirt began to fall around them. Just as the apprentice was pushed forward, Mouseflight was pushed back. The rain of dirt stopped falling and things seemed to still, and if the other patrol members looked around them in that moment they'd notice Mouseflight wasn't with them, but they could hear the faint sound of coughing behind a wall of dirt - luckily he'd not been buried in it.

⋆｡°✩ threw my voice into the dark

• Permission was given for powerplay of Pinkpaw!
• 
  ⋆ mousekit - mousepaw - mouseflight
  ⋆ ftm - he/him - 16 moons
  ⋆ bisexual - open to relationship
  ⋆ tunneler of windclan
  ⋆ attack - speech - thought
  ⋆ penned by tikki

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[SCORCHSTREAK]

༄༄ Behind them, Smokestep has been silent for a majority of the patrol, but Scorchstreak does not blame him. She does not know him well, and is much more comfortable with Mouseflight after going on the journey with the large-eared tom. But Smokestep fires off a question at the mention of twolegs, asking why they would dig their trenches. Mouseflight’s response is speculative, and although the deputy also is uncertain of the answer, she can give it a decent guess. "I can only assume they were made for the same reason as the fires were set—what that reason is, we may never know." Perhaps they are meant to be for food storage or sleeping space, but she has yet to see twolegs hanging around the area after the fires died down. She looks to Pinkpaw, seeking her apprentice’s viewpoint on the situation.

The patrol lapses into calm for a while, and Scorchstreak is content to keep quiet as they continue along, but it seems the tunnels themselves have other plans. Mouseflight shouts an order, and it is one that Scorchstreak heeds. "Shit-" The calico is moving in a heartbeat, feeling the rumble of collapsing rubble overhead. Danger, their mind screams, you are all going to die. But somehow, Scorchstreak manages to scramble to where Smokestep stands, attempting to shoulder the tom farther down the tunnel and away from the collapse. The smaller calico she-cat does not react as quickly, and golden eyes wide with horror turn to look for Pinkpaw—only to see Mouseflight shoving the apprentice out of the way. The tom isn’t as lucky as Pinkpaw, however; the earth comes crashing down between the two sides of the patrol, leaving the trio on one side and Mouseflight on the other.

The deputy’s chest heaves with panic, but they bite down their fear as they turn to stare at Smokestep, and then Pinkpaw. They aim to sweep their tail across the apprentice’s shoulder, attempting to provide comfort for either themself or their apprentice. Their paws tremble slightly. What now? What now? This is their worst fear, come to life once again. This is Dazzlepaw’s death played over for a second time. But Scorchstreak must remain collected, because they are the deputy of WindClan. "Quiet," she warns, for fear of more dirt collapsing into the tunnel if disturbed. She grits her teeth, listening for any sign that the tom is still alive somewhere in the tunnel. A cough marks his presence, his survival, and Scorchstreak calls out in a low voice, "Mouseflight. Are you alright? Are you able to get out?" Is he dying? Can he save himself?

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ she’s a growing bed of thorns

• ooc: —
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stoic and shrewd, but clearly cares deeply for her clan.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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​

 

[SMOKESTEP]

TAGS — It's normal. It's all normal, a fine time underground, until it isn't.

Smokestep has been here before. As the tunnel quakes and dirt rains upon him, the conversation sprints ahead and away from him in the shape of Firepaw, hardly four moons old and more reckless than she'll ever be afterwards. He'll have to dig her out. His paws will break and blood will spill beneath the weight of the responsibility; beneath the weight of fixing her mistake. At first he is paralyzed, but Scorchstreak slams a shoulder into his chest, startling him out of his daze. Scar-webbed paws frantically cycle to pull him away from the collapse. He's tempted fate enough down here — he can't be buried now, not after surviving the first time.

Small rocks, roots, and shaking earth litter his pelt with nicks and debris. By the time the tunnel stops rumbling, he stands behind Scorchstreak, lungs incapable of slowing his quaking breaths. "Firepaw...." he murmurs, nonsensical to his patrol mates, nonsensical even to himself. He feels half-lucid, as if walking through a dream, but he knows this is different. This is different from when he'd been a kit. His paws are not crushed. His sister is not the cat who lies beyond the rubble that vacant amber eyes bore through. Smokestep's limbs tremble as the deputy issues her order. Quiet. His white-laced tail lashes with fear. Amber eyes blow wide and glassy, reflecting only flashes of light in the pitch black they're drowning in.

Scorchstreak calls out to their trapped clanmate. Smokestep hates the way the deja vu creeps up his spine. I need to go, he thinks, and yet he's stuck here, too, waiting on Mouseflight's status report. His heartrate pulses in his ears, fast — too fast. I need to go, he thinks again. Is Firefang okay? He listens to Scorchstreak's and Pinkpaw's breathing, trying to ground himself while he waits for the dappled tom to reply.​

 

[PINKSHINE]

As always — because she's such a good apprentice — she listens to what Scorchstreak says, and there's some wisdom to be had... She usually thinks it's totally unfair that a bunch of other cat sgot taller than her out of nowhere, like... she eats the same rabbits as everyone else! And ran the same kitten races! But maybe if she was that tall, the dirt would fall right out from under her... Twolegs would never know what tunnels are like, then. ...Sorta scary, but they're also exclusive, so they're cool! " I thought they were pretty good for twoleg holes, " she mews, though she guesses what Mouseflight said is true... Did it even really count if they weren't using their own paws? " Maybe that's why they're um, mediocre! " she proposes.

What use does a twoleg have for a trench? asks Smokestep. Fun trivia! "I know! I know! The fires! " she chirrups. As for why they did the fire thing, um... well, she thinks sometimes the answer can be that they're just stupid... Was that a mean thing to think? Probably not if it's twolegs!

Pinkpaw continues on, on and on cause that's what good apprentices and almost - warriors do! It's a shock, to suddenly be told to go by Mouseflight. Bewildered, Pinkpaw tries to angle a confused look at him, even if he wouldn't see it. the walls seemed to be rumbling... Did it prove she could be a wariror soon, that she noticed? Or was it a bad thing that she noticed so late? Loose bits of dirt are falling onto their pelts. It's more than just some loose little bits, Pinkpaw finds out the hard way when she's suddenly shoved with a strained, oof!

And then it's quiet, save for the sound of Mouseflight's cough. And when she rubs at her eyes and tries to find him, she can't. " ...M - Mouseflight? " Pinkpaw stands and stares. She stands and stares.

Her mentor's tail grazes her shoulder, and she turns to face her. In a way Featherspine would probably call unwarriorlike, her voice wobbles. " W - wuh... W - what happened? Mouseflight? " she repeats, louder this time, but then she clamps down on her own tongue. Is it her fault? Had she been too loud? Was it her fault? A dry whisper, her voice cracks. " W - what're we gonna do...? Can we get him? " Would they have to leave him like they left Sunstar?​