pafp You and I see eye to eye ⸙ Tunneler v Moor-runner debate

[Brackenscar]

"What's so great about being a Moor-runner anyways?" Brackenscar speaks up, tearing the fat of the rabbit from it's hind leg. Her question isn't spoken in malice, rather it is a genuine curiosity. Stars if she heard themself ask that as an apprentice they'd probably have a heart attack. Being a moor-runner had once been everything to them, the potential of being close to her family in that regard. The day she was named tunneler was soul crushing, though now she wouldn't really have it any other way. Satisfied she had managed to dig her fangs into the section she desired most she then slides the hide of the prey towards Deerpetal. Their gaze is cutting, making sure he knew that their question was meant for him first and foremost. It was the pair of them sharing this rabbit after all.

Crescent marked face scrunches as she brings a paw to her face in a meager attempt to clean it. "It must feel overwhelming, plus the snow must be so annoying. It gets in my face all the time just being out here, I'd hate to patrol in that weather so much." Despite her lamenting she knows that they also have to patrol in that weather, the tunnels always lead outside of course. Brackenscar enjoys her time with Deerpetal. She has to admit that she habours frustration when the timid warrior doesn't land in any particular opinion. She recalls their discussion of chores, rather her complaining while he seemed to desperately find a mold to fit into. Hopefully that's changed as he's found his name, it wouldn't change the fact that she likes to hang out with him but she wants a challenge from him. Hopefully this would help, something as simple as a difference in their paths as warriors.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ OH, IM JUST A GIRL ꕥ WHATS MY DESTINY ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ooc. Please wait for @Deerpetal
• 
• 
  Brackenscar ✩ They/she, Tunneler, 15 moons
  
  
  ⸙ A scowling, tiny calico with large ears.
  ⸙ Mentored by Scorchstar | 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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[Deerpetal]

"I don't think anyone likes patrolling in snowy weather, Brackenscar," Deerpetal giggles, accepting the rabbit with a grateful smile. The weight of their regard is piercing; were it anyone else, the soft-furred tom would be squirming anxiously, but this is just how Brackenscar gets sometimes. He can tell that they get annoyed by his efforts to conform to everyone's preferences, which so often lands him in a frustrating middle-ground that makes him feel even more like a disappointment than he would have if he'd just kept his mouth shut. As such, her question feels pointed. He tries not to wonder how predetermined it was.

He takes a bite of rabbit before answering, chewing thoughtfully as he figures out his next words. "It's worth it for the days when the weather's clear, and the leaf-bare sun finally shows its face to warm your back. And in the warmer moons, everything is green and vast and the wind smells like wildflowers. The sky is so blue and cloudless you feel like you should be able to jump up and swim in it." Big brown eyes shine wistfully as he recalls the prey-rich, flower-filled dream of his youth. It feels so long ago now, as if the cold will last forever, but Deerpetal was born in this cold. The wondrous shock of waking up one morning to find the snow melting and new leaves budding is one of his fondest kithood memories, one that shaped his opinion of the world he lives in.

"Being able to run from camp to the border without stopping, with just the strength in your legs and the amount of air you can hold in your lungs to keep you going... that feeling is something I wouldn't trade for a life spent in tunnels, not for all the world." A hot flush of embarrassment blooms suddenly over his pelt as he realizes how romantic his answer had turned, and that he has an audience of more than just Brackenscar now. Defensive, he mumbles, "At -- at least... that's how I feel about it."

-ˋˏ ❁ ˎˊ-

DEERPETAL.ㅤ BIOGRAPHYㅤ/ㅤTOYHOU.SE
✦trans male (he/him)ㅤ/homoflexible, single
✦ㅤ14 moons oldㅤ/ㅤages realistically, every 2nd of the month
✦warrior of windclan for 1 moon
✦ㅤdeerflower x stormshadeㅤ
✦ㅤmentoring n/aㅤ/ㅤmentored by featherfrost
✦ㅤpenned by solaireㅤ/ㅤmessage aurumbones on discord for plots!

deerpetal is a slender chocolate ticked tabby trans tom. he has a pale underbelly cut through from chin to mid-torso with cotton-soft white. he has large coppery eyes set in a triangular face which tapers down to a pointy muzzle, framed by large ears and silky cheek fluff. he's known for being soft-spoken, empathetic, and nervous.

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ Scorchstar tries not to favor their snake-bitten limb, but there is a certain stiffness to the joint just below the twin wounds that makes them wince when they settle it against the ground the wrong way. Their recovery means that they are not staying cooped up in Cottonsprig's den, and so the calico makes their way across camp to grab their own meal. On the way to the prey pile, the sound of Brackenscar and Deerpetal's conversation reaches her ears, and they twitch with interest. The debate seems amicable for now; of course, she does not expect a cat so soft as Deerpetal to rise to even the most foul-smelling bait. "The vastness is the part of being a moor runner that appeals to me least," the leader says with a hint of amusement in their flat voice. Brackenscar is correct about the open moorland being overwhelming; the idea of feeling able to jump and swim into the sky unsettles Scorchstar more than she lets on. With no trees to speak of in their territory, any WindClanner caught off guard out in the open can only rely on their speed and stamina to keep themself out of death's jaws.

"The important part of the matter is that WindClan must have both tunnelers and moor runners in order to survive." It is, in part, why she chose Scorchstorm as her successor. The balance of tunnelers and moor runners has always been even, since Scorchstar had first joined the clan. Sootstar had chosen Duskfire, then Badgermoon, then Sunstar. And Sunstar… he had chosen Scorchstar. It seems only right that she choose a moor runner to keep with the tradition that has been laid before her.

OF THE FOLKLORE AND THE FABLES ☽♰☾ SHE’S THE TALLEST TALE OF ALL

• ooc: —
• 
• SCORCHSTAR ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ she/they, leader of windclan, tunneler
  ༄ 8/9 lives. (IC, it is believed that she still has all 9 lives)
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stern and serious, ferociously protective of her clanmates.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw & splinterpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

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[Silkpaw]

Silkpaw had been lingering near the fresh-kill pile, carefully choosing a meal that wouldn't leave too much of a mess on her pristine fur, when the discussion catches her ear. She pauses and looks up, ears twitching as Brackenscar questions the appeal of being a moor-runner. What's so great about it? The answer seems so obvious to her!

With a delicate huff, the apprentice steps closer, her chin tilting ever so slightly upward as she joins the conversation with the young warriors. She feels comfortable enough around them, seeing as they were often the apprentices helping her change her nursery bedding. "Honestly, I don't see how anyone could ask such a thing," She trills as if it is obvious before she flicks her tail and settles herself down gracefully. "There's simply nothing like it! The wind in your fur, the open sky, the feeling of absolute freedom." Her voice lilts dramatically on the last word, as if she's describing the most divine thing ever.

She gestures vaguely with one ivory paw, looking unimpressed. "Tunnelers have to, what? Crouch in the dark all day? Get dirt and dust in their fur? Stars forbid, break a claw scrabbling through stone." A shudder runs down her spine at the thought, grimace plastered on her face. "Moor-runners, on the other paw, get to stretch their legs, see the territory, and feel the sun on their pelts without having to squeeze through cramped little tunnels. Really, it's no competition!" She glances toward Deerpetal, as if expecting him to agree, and then her gaze settles on Scorchstar. Suddenly, she is overcome with the feeling that she just rambled for way too long putting down her leader's job. Swallowing hard with now-round eyes, she tries to hide her nervousness with an airy giggle. "Of course, I suppose tunnelers are necessary," She concedes with a smile, not taking her eyes off Scorchstar.
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[SEDGEPOUNCE]

It's a little surprising to find Brackenscar and Deerpetal at the root of the conversation. Usually the moor runner versus tunneler debate is hot gossip for young apprentices—it feels a little belated for a couple of warriors to drag it back up. But as Sedgepounce lounges with his clanmates over a bony thrush at his paws, it dawns on him that he doesn't really understand the nitty-gritty of tunneler life. He usually just assumes that they're just smaller, dustier moor runners who run underground rather than above. But then there's all the digging, the cave-ins...He shudders inwardly.

"Being underground is totally claustrophobic," the tomcat chimes in. It sounds a little funny until he picks a feather out from his teeth. "Like, Mothermouth? Or those caves we had to crawl though?" he turns to Scorchstar, the first Journey member he spots. "Totally freaked me out." He'd take the endless moor over that any day.
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[Stoatpaw]

The young apprentice hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he'd been nearby when the gathered cats had begun talking. The description of the moor in the spring made Stoatpaw feel excited. He'd been apprenticed when everything had already died and hidden in the ground for the year, and could only remember vaguely the flowers that had been in camp when he was a kit. When the first green sprouted in Newleaf, he'd make sure to be there.

But he couldn't deny the tunnels had their own allure.

"I- I think the tunnels are kinda cool," Stoatpaw added softly. They weren't sure they'd ever want to dig, but exploring the tunnels? He couldn't lie the idea sounded exciting, so long as maybe there was a tunneler with him... just in case he got lost. "If we didn't have tunnels, we wouldn't be very Windclan..."

The young moor runner shuffled his paws, feeling special that their clan had two unique roles.

 

[SPLINTERPAW.]

SHOULDA TAKEN A BREAK, NOT AN OXFORD COMMA​

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"without tunnelers windclan would have st... st.. starved by now, mousebrain. you're lucky that we do all the hard work around here."

debating with splinterpaw was a moot point. whether or not they were wrong, they'd never openly admit that. never not once, because to admit that they were wrong was like a weakness, to them at least. they had to make sure everyone thought they meant what they said and in this case, they absolutely meant it. their tail lashed back and forth as their ears pinned back, tongue drawing through their fur so they can be presentable. to who? themself, of course. their gaze narrows before they decide that this conversation was beneath them. everyone knew tunnelers were superior. without them, windclan would be nothing.

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[Silkpaw]

Silkpaw nods fervently to Sedgepounce's words. Claustrophobic, indeed! She supposed Stoatpaw is right, they have always had tunnels. But one is simply better than the other! Velvety ears flick irritably at Splinterpaw's sharp words, her charcoal tail giving a faint lash behind her. Mouse-brain? The nerve! She lifts her chin higher, putting on a smile that's just a touch too sweet. "Oh? Hard work, you say?" She purrs, her tone dripping with polite disbelief. "I suppose if you enjoy crawling through dirt and ruining your fur, that's one way to see it." Her whiskers twitch with amusement, though there's a defensive glint in her bright eyes. "But I hardly think digging holes compares to the real work of racing across the moor to defend borders. You don't see intruding RiverClanners scurrying underground, do you?"

With a graceful stretch of her paws, she glances toward Stoatpaw, softening her tone just slightly. "Exploring tunnels does sound fun…for a moment," She hums, as if granting him a kindness. "But being stuck down there all day? I think I'll keep my paws clean and my fur sun-warmed, thank you very much." Her gaze flickers back to Scorchstar, remembering her earlier slip. With a quick, dazzling smile, she adds, "Of course, as Scorchstar said, we need both to survive." A dip of her head is given to her leader, graceful, practiced. "But some of us simply prefer the finer things in life." She gives Splinterpaw a look edged with challenge, her tail curling neatly around her paws.
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