tunnels WHERE THE YARROW GROWS [shc tunnel hunting, event]

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The wetland territory has only become more miserable since the weather began to cool prematurely. The tunnels have thankfully retained some of their insulation, so at least Scorchstar's paws do not freeze to the earth as she stalks along in the darkness. The warmth that remains still leeches from her wherever her paws touch the dirt, however; soon, even the tunnels will be frigid. But WindClan will prevail nonetheless, because they have grit that the other clans do not. They also have stealth, and the advantage of their underground tunnels meant for hunting in this exact situation.

The calico tunneler holds the rabbit's skin they will be using to cover their trail, so she sets off down a tunnel with a muttered explanation, departing from the remainder of the patrol. The tunnel is a dead end, she realizes as her whiskers brush a cold wall, and after a few moments of scenting the musty air Scorchstar turns around once again. She returns to the patrol quickly, unsurprised to see that they had waited for her. "Nothing down that way," she rumbles, displeasure clear in her tone. Her tail whips behind her, the tip lashing—the sole outward sign of the leader's frustration. Turning in the direction she believes her apprentices to be in, she questions, "Have you caught anything?" The prey-scent is too muddled in the dampness to pick out anything specific that her clanmates may carry, and even eyes adjusted for seeing in the dark cannot pick out anything dangling from her patrolmates' mouths.

YOU KNOW I DESERVE IT ☽♰☾ WELL, TAKE IT OUT ON ME

• ooc: no encounter on a nat 20, but failed the hunting roll >:(
  Apprentice tags @Brackenpaw @BILBERRYPAW
• 
• SCORCHSTAR ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ she/they, leader of windclan, tunneler
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & brackenpaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[Brackenpaw]

While it's not freezing within the ShadowClan tunnels she stills finds herself wrinkling her nose as she still finds it damp and cold. Paws pad against the floor despite this, trying to not wince every time she touches the chilly ground. Can paws be frozen off? They're certain their just being dramatic but she's unsure. There's always a bitter resentment towards the clan of the marsh but it's only increased since they have found no prey both times she tried to hunt there. When she was just beginning as an apprentice she could excuse it but the most recent fruitless attempt made her frustrated. She's certain that this will be different, or at least the hope that it will be makes her power through the cold.

Scorchstar goes on her own direction towards another tunnel path, leaving Brackenpaw and Bilberrypaw to wander down their own. There's admittedly a lot of hesitance given the badger attack but they're careful now. Making sure to properly scent the area and walk at a careful pace, not rushing head first into danger. The calico stops halfway through the tunnel, hearing the patter of footfall.

The scent of hare hangs heavy in the air, it must have sought out the tunnels to escape the cold. Finding itself on the marsh side of the territory, well clearly this would belong to WindClan anyways. Would those frog eaters know what to do with something as bountiful as this? to have something covered in fur that's not a rat? Crouching low their tail whips in a frenzy, waiting until the hare had drawn closer before she strikes.

Heart pounding as claws sink into the prey, dragging the kicking and thrashing hare until she was able to latch her fangs around it's neck. Waiting until the feeling of it's kicking to cease, with a sigh a muttered thank you is given to StarClan. Finally, she caught something here on this disgusting territory. It had to be because this animal was clearly WindClan's, or her spite had carried them further. With a satisfied huff she carries the hare carefully as to not drag it too much.

"There was a hare here, it must have been lost" she explains with a soft meow. Nothing new is smelled on their mentor, she assumes that it must be because a rabbit had also gotten lost down here. Mistaking the rabbit she already had for finding an additional one, it was better than thinking she couldn't find anything.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ OH, IM JUST A GIRL ꕥ WHATS MY DESTINY ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ooc. Rolled two 19's for a hare! (3 points)
• 
• 
  Brackenpaw ✩ They/she, tunneler apprentice, 12 moons
  
  
  ⸙ A scowling, tiny calico who still needs to grow into her ears.
  ⸙ Mentored by Scorchstar | Formally mentored by Bluefrost.
  ⸙ Speech, thoughts, attacking.
  ⸙ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ( underline and tag when attacking ).
  ⸙ All opinions are IC only.
  penned by Juice.
  

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[rushpaw.]

This blows. Rushpaw actually really hates this. It's one thing to go tunneling with just his mentor, but it's another thing entirely to be tagging along with their goddamn leader - new as she may be. Rushpaw doesn't exactly hold any ill will towards Scorchstar, he's just... well, calling him slightly self conscious might be an understatement. And, unfortunately for everyone around him, that manifests as anger and petulance usually. Hunting is something he can do, though, so this shouldn't be too terrible.

...it seems luck is not on the small cream point's side today, however, and as much as he keeps his nose to the ground and his ears peeled for the scuttling of tiny feet, all Rushpaw smells is cold dirt and all he hears is the echo of the patrol breathing and walking. And he has absolutely nothing to show for his efforts.

He knew prey was going to be scarce, he knew that, but it's still pissing him off.

"Damn it-" he hisses under his breath, keeping relatively quiet in case there actually was something lurking around. He's not enough of an idiot that he'd scare away prey someone else could catch. There's a jealous, not-quite-hostile glance in Brackenpaw's general direction. It's not fair. Rushpaw is just as capable, so why can't he catch something too?

when does a ripple // become a tidal wave

• ooc - roll: 12, no prey orz
  
• 
  #eb9757
• 
  (img) rushpaw * he/him * 10 moons
  mentored by npc
  lh cream point; blue eyes
  Peaceful & healing powerplay allowed || underline for attack
  penned by Neptune. || Neptune on disc, dm me for plots

​

 

[Daisywatcher.]

THE CORVIDS ARE CALLING
WARNING THE FOREST A PREDATORS APPROACHING​

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daisywatcher & 22 moons & feminine & she/they/it & windclan tunneler ​

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Even with thick coat fluffed against the biting cold, Daisywatcher is glad to be beneath the earth and away from the wind that tugs her fur and nips at her heels. Paws tread quietly against packed earth as the patrol travels, nose wrinkled against the acrid scent of muck that always taints this tunnel, beneath shadowclans paws as they are. Marsh rabbits are far from the tastiest of prey - but far be it from windclan to turn away such an advantage with leafbare frost arriving so early. Still, it dulls her senses - ears flattening to her skull as baleful gaze lands on what she's pretty sure is her leader, head shaking in disappointment. " Nope- nothing my way, "

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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A M - I - I N - D A N G E R - ━ - O R - A M - I - T H E - T H R E A T - ?

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// 4 = failure;; mobile ♡

 

[whitepaw]

Whitepaw pads cautiously through the ShadowClan tunnels, his paw steps deliberate as he navigates the cold, damp underground. He loathes the wet scent of the marshland clinging to his fur, the way the chilly air nips at his paw pads, and the muted sound of the others around him. Still, he refuses to let discomfort or disdain show. He holds his head high, his sharp posture unyielding despite the conditions, and his fur is impeccably groomed even in this mire. He needs to succeed—failure is simply not an option.

The scent of prey drifts faintly through the tunnels, cutting through the muck and dampness. Whitepaw halts, his ears pricking forward and his nostrils flaring. His heart quickens slightly, but he tempers the excitement, forcing himself to stay calm. It's rare that he manages to find prey before someone else, and he will not ruin his chance by rushing in like an inexperienced kit. He lowers himself, his movements fluid and controlled, and silently creeps toward the scent. His sharp amber eyes scan the dim tunnel, catching the flicker of movement—a rat, plump and slow. For a heartbeat, he considers dismissing it. A rat is hardly glorious prey. But then he reminds himself that WindClan cannot afford pride during leafbare, and his resolve hardens.

He moves with precision, closing the distance in measured paw steps. When he is close enough, he springs forward, claws sinking into the rat before it has a chance to react. It thrashes beneath him, but he swiftly delivers a killing bite, his teeth finding its neck. The warmth of its blood spreads briefly across his tongue, a stark contrast to the icy dampness around him. Panting lightly, Whitepaw straightens, holding the rat by its scruff. It isn't as grand as the hare someone else caught, but it's decent. More importantly, he caught it. This success is his alone, a small victory against the lingering shadow of his sickness.

When he returns to the group, his gaze is steady, giving nothing away. He sets the rat down, his tail flicking behind him. "A rat," he rasps, informing the other of his find. "At least ShadowClan's tunnels aren't completely useless." There's a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes as he glances at the others. His catch may not be the grandest, but it's proof that his lingering issues from his sickness will not stop him from being useful to his Clan.

[ rolled a 20 to catch prey, and a 15 for size ]​

 

[breezepaw]

:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·: breezepaw finds no luck on her hunt. white whiskers run along the walls, coating themselves in dirt, her gray nose twitching desperately to pick up on anything. it failed her, time and time again. the lingering stench of the thunderpath messed with her senses and she failed to catch a scent. it smelled as if she were trying to hunt at the bottom of a freshkill pile sat too long in the greenleaf sun, like the death was all around her, everywhere besides her jaws.

the scorned look on her face was only amplified by returning to the group. there was the scent of fresh blood, brackenpaw had caught something. whitepaw announces his catch, a shadowclan delicacy. breezepaw's nose ridges. 'rat' and 'not completely useless' being spoken in the same breath wasn't something she heard every day. maybe, shadowclanners were the way they were because they ate such vile creatures.

breezepaw decides to say nothing as she waited for the patrol to leave. she had no hare or rat to announce with a winning grin, it was better to pretend that she hadn't been on the patrol at all.

‎‎THERE IS A MONSTER // ✧ AND I AM A MONSTER ☽✧:·.

• OOC ✧ rolled a 1 :|
  

• 

• BREEZEPAW ✦ SHE/HER, WINDCLAN APPRENTICE, 8 ☾.
  ✧ a small, yet leggy longhaired blue point chimera with icy eyes and a long tail.
  ✧ rattleheart x venomstrike / / littermate to thistlepaw, bunnypaw, splinterpaw, and crunchypaw.
  ✧ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ battle info
  ✧ penned by vayle ↛ @vayl3 on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Puddlepaw.]

I WANT TO BELONG
LIKE THE BIRDS IN THE TREES ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

puddlepaw & 09 moons & demi-girl & she/they & windclan apprentice ​

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Puddlepaw wanders through twistong turns, she does it without much thoight - padding along at an ambling pace, humming faintly to herself. They are supposed to be hunting - and, should rabbit stray across her path, she would, but mostly she simply lets her mind wander. Its her first leafbare - an experience that is syrange and starting tor a child who's enemy growing up had been heat. The lick of flames, the sting of smoke. Now windclan has a new enemy, that chews on her limbs and sends bones quaking - she she doesn't like it.

Voices pipe up, drawing the girl from her thoughts - a slow shake of her head followed by a sigh. She's empty pawed, and so is her mentor - no luck for them either.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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B L U E B I R D S ━ F O R E V E R ━ C O L O U R ━ T H E ━ S K Y

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// mobile - rolled a 7 no prey

 

[honeysucklepaw]

The comfort of the tunnels has grown more obvious as she blossoms with every passing moon... she has grown certain, more steady... and even as they tread where danger could linger just out of reach, Honeysucklepaw does not falter in her strides. She bounds after Scorchstar with a grin plastered to her face, confident and practically skipping on short, eager limbs. She'd not make a fool of herself today, not in front of her leader, not as they weave through narrow passages that take them beyond their own scent lines.

Maybe it's the thrill of danger that inspires her best self to come forth, a display of all the hard work she's put into her training. Cricketcry might not believe her just yet to be a perfect apprentice but the sooty she-cat knows herself to be exemplary... and she proves in in with a speedy dash from the opening of one of the tunnels, sprinting low to the ground after a rabbit that had not seen her coming. With a triumphant leap, her paws land on its back, pinning it to the ground as its legs kick out behind it in a desperate panic.

Her teeth sink in with a warmth of victory to wet her dry mouth, standing with a whirl to look back at her patrol-mates, practically bursting with pride. Her tail curls into a question mark- Has everyone else found something?


//rolled a 17, 12 for prey size! 2 points

mother tell me 𓇢𓆸 will you stay?

• 'i grow when challenged by adversity... i am not afraid'
• HONEYSUCKLEPAW
  - ward of cricketcry of wind-swept moors
  - she/her
  - orphan daughter to mintshade and gracklestep
  
  a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes