you want hollywood, this is real life // scorchstreak and badgermoon

[curlewnose]

"maybe I'll find where it all fell apart, but I haven't yet"​

The plot had been hatched moons before in the nursery, and it was finally the time for action. Dusky light settled over the moors, barely visible from Curlewnose’s seat inside a wider tunnel–it had started as a badger sett, if the tom remembered correctly. He snorted, shaking his head; how fitting for the evening’s plans that this was the tunnel they’d chosen.

In the time Curlew waited, he went over what he would say again and again, changing the wording and intonation until it was perfect. He knew this would be his chance to say what was needed to the deputy, and he had to say it all this time in case there wasn’t another. Badermoon would listen to him, that the tom was sure of. It was the point of this, making sure the mouse-heart couldn’t run away.

A streak of orange appeared in the grass outside the tunnel and Curlew knew it was time. He slunk backwards, hiding his bright pelt in the shadows of the earth. Had he not been so entirely enveloped in the dark, one would have seen the grin stretched across his long snout as he waited for his prey.


@SCORCHSTREAK @Badgermoon

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✦ ★ ✦​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

Truthfully, Scorchstreak does not hate Badgermoon. He may be a fool, but he is the clan’s deputy and the father of her kits. He is a capable warrior and a good deputy; he certainly hadn’t intended to hurt Curlewnose. But he had, and now he avoids the tunneler as though no conversation will ever be had. As though a conversation is not sorely needed between the two toms—between all three of them, she thinks. But the deputy is flighty, and it seems the best way to trap him in conversation is to trap him in a more literal sense. And if the two tunnelers also get a good deal of amusement out of it, then perhaps Badgermoon doesn’t need to know that.

"Badgermoon," she says, voice low and carefully neutral as she turns her fiery gaze upon the broad tom. "There’s something you should see. As deputy." She adds the last bit after a pause, ears twitching with the weight of her own words. She has never been a good liar, never seen reason to be dishonest. But this isn’t dishonesty, is it? The tom does need to see soemthing—that something just happens to be an angry tunneler tom and Scorchstreak’s closest friend. She looks to the tunnel’s entrance, but cannot spot the pale form of the cat who lurks within. Perfect.

Turning to hide the smile that slips onto her muzzle, the calico slips into the tunnel with ease. Her tail flicks and she turns, waiting for the black and white tom to follow after. "It’s just in here," she calls out, glancing around to lock eyes with Curlewnose. This is it.​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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[Badgermoon]

Generally speaking, Badgermoon was not aware of the hurt he had caused. Or, at least, not aware of the depth of the hurt he'd caused. He knew that it hurt Curlewnose's feelings, knew that rejection stung no matter who you were. He knew that his rejection had hurt himself, that he had felt as if he had backed away from his first, and perhaps only, chance at lifelong love and happiness. That he had been too cowardly to accept what his heart was telling him, too frightened to accept those warm amber eyes. But he'd dealt with those feelings, handled them in...a way. It had had unexpected consequences - Scorchstreak's pregnancy had not been part of the plan - but it had ended happily, at least. He now had four wonderful children. Curlewnose was not really part of his life, other than as a passing figure in camp, and he was able to dismiss the stray feelings which clawed at him. So what if it felt like he was suffocating sometimes? So what if some nights felt so cold and empty that his bone marrow felt frozen?

It was all fine. He would live with the consequences of his cowardice, and someday, it would all be a distant memory.

All of this meant that he had no suspicion of the ambush waiting for him, none whatsoever: Scorchstreak's summons was answered at once, thumping after the calico with haste. "Of course, of course." Badgermoon said, trailing after her with concern and curiosity present on his face. "What is it, Scorchstreak?" She hadn't seemed panicked, but serious. And if it required more than a lead warrior's authority, he felt sure it was worth at least a modicum of worry. He watched her mottled coat disappear into the depths of a tunnel and he frowned, yellow eyes flashing with unease. "I can't fit down there, can I?" Badgermoon wondered aloud, half to himself as he edged closer to the tunnel's entrance. Carefully, he crept in, shuddering as darkness came over his head. He got about halfway in when he stopped short: his broad shoulders ensured he could go no further. Attempts to force himself forward were unsuccessful, til finally: "I can't go in any farther." He said, frustrated. "I'm - I'm not built for these tunnels. What's going..."

As his eyes adjusted to the light, a shape materialized in front of him, past Scorchstreak's patchwork coat. Slender body, cloud-kissed fur, patched with an elegant blue. Two amber eyes, like pools of honey. Curlew. "Oh, uh, hi, Curlewnose. Err. Nice, uh, nice to see you. I'm sorry, though, I'm - we're - right in the middle of something." He offered his brightest smile, attempting to take a few steps back. The darkness, the overwhelming scent of earth, the pressure against his shoulders...He couldn't move. He tried again to backpedal, but found that he was stuck fast. "Ah, I, I can't - I'm stuck, ha. I'm..." He trailed off, trying to look apologetic and not frantic. "Sorry, I - Scorchstreak, help me out? You had something you needed to show me...?"​