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Username: Shadowflight13
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Cat Name: Lynxpaw (Lynxshadow)
Gender: She-cat
Rank: Apprentice
Age: 8 moons
Clan: Cometclan❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
Prompt Answer: (1500 words/3 art pieces max)
Into The Mineshaft
“Has anyone seen Lynxpaw?” Smokestar asked, glancing around the camp. A few cats shook their heads. Smokestar checked the ledge outside the camp. Her pale-furred apprentice was nowhere to be seen. Smokestar sighed, for this was not unusual. It seemed the young she-cat was having difficulty adjusting to Clan life.
Far to the north of the territory, a light grey she-cat stalked through the undergrowth. Lynxpaw often felt the need to escape the confines of the camp and go off by herself, even if she knew she wasn’t supposed to. She liked being out in the territory by herself, away from the bustle and warmth of the camp. Close, constant companionship from other cats wasn’t something she was used to.
Lynxpaw stepped out of the shade of the trees, into the long grass at the base of the mesa, and stopped for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the morning sun on her fur. She was content to stand still, listening to the sounds of birds in the trees and the wind rustling the leaves, tugging on her long fur. After a moment, the sound of running water caught her attention, and she set off through the grass.
The stream burbled along happily, shallow and fast. It wound down through a little gully from the top of the mesa, then across the short meadow and into the forest. No doubt it would eventually meet up with the large river to the east. Lynxpaw leaned down to drink from the cold, clear water, lapping up a few mouthfuls. Then she hopped the stream, feeling small droplets of cool water hit her paws when she landed on the other bank.
She traced the stream’s path up the gully to the top of the mesa. There was an old twoleg structure set into the cliff. Curiosity piqued, Lynxpaw approached the cliff, expecting to half to climb up. Instead, she found an eroded, sandy path cut into the cliff. The little she-cat scrambled up it. The path was thin in some places, and almost nonexistent in others, where the rock had crumbled away. Still, it beat climbing straight up the rock face.
Finally, the path flattened out and Lynxpaw reached the structure. Wood had been built into the rock to keep it from crumbling, though by now it was rotting in places and didn’t look nearly as stable as it once might have been. The logs framed a square hole leading away into the cliff, sloping gently downward. Just inside the oddly shaped cave were a number of old twoleg things, bits of smooth wood attached to pieces of rusting metal, and colorful plastic bowls like turtle shells. Lynxpaw stepped inside to investigate.
The stone floor was smooth and cool underneath her paws. She sniffed one of the colored shells and batted it with a paw, sending it spinning across the floor and down the tunnel. Lynxpaw pricked up her ears as it skittered away into the darkness, followed by a soft clang. She glanced back at the entrance, wondering if she shouldn’t be in here. Then she shrugged, curiosity getting the better of her, and began to explore.
A few fox lengths into the mine, she found the twolege shell she’d batted sitting against a metal rail set into the ground. Lynxpaw sniffed it curiously. There was another rail parallel to it, and rotting wooden slats between. She wondered what the twolegs would have used it for.
Lynxpaw began to follow the rails, balancing on top of one. Soon she found her path blocked by a large metal box. Attached to the metal box were four circular pieces of metal, sitting on the rails she’d been following. Curious, she stood up on her hind legs to try and see inside. When that failed, she crouched down and leaped up, landing in the dusty bottom of the box.
The momentum she’d carried caused the cart to began to roll, the rusted wheels creaking and screeching. Lynxpaw gasped and flattened herself to the bottom of the box as it rattled and groaned, rolling fast and faster down the metal rails. Just as she was wondering how she was ever going to get herself out of this one, the cart hit a barrier with a jolt, sending her flying forward out of the rusted box. Luckily, her instincts kicked in and she was able to twist in midair and land on her paws. She crouched for a moment, shocked, before pulling herself together. Time to get out of this weird twoleg cave.
Lynxpaw passed the box she’d rolled down in, which was stuck against a sort of metal block, and practically ran up the tunnel, past old twoleg artifacts and sheets of rusted metal bearing their intelligible words. It took quite a bit longer to run back up than it had to roll down, and she was panting by the time she reached the top of the metal rails. Along the way she passed several dark side tunnels, winding away into the rock, but she ignored them. The last thing she needed was to get lost down here.
The sight of daylight was a welcome one, and Lynxpaw dashed out into the sunshine. Her fur was dusty and stained black in places from coal dust, especially her paws from her little trip in the minecart. She was just thinking she should probably wash off in the stream before anyone saw how dirty she was when a voice broke the quiet.
“Lynxpaw!” Smokestar crossed the stream in a swift leap and stood at the base of the cliffs, tail twitching. She had tracked the apprentice’s scent all the way from camp. “Get down from there at once!”
Lynxpaw felt her heart sink. She was really in trouble this time. The blue shaded apprentice scrambled down the sandy path and stopped in front of her leader, trying to gauge her expression and not meet her eye at the same time.
“Lynxpaw! Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Smokestar nosed the apprentice’s pelt, checking for injuries. Having expected a lecture, Lynxpaw looked up, shocked and uncertain, then shook her head.
“I’m fine,” she meowed. Her nose twitched, realizing her mentor’s scent had carried a faint trace of fear. Smokestar sighed in relief and took a step back, meeting Lynxpaw’s eyes.
“Thank Starclan... Lynxpaw, that tunnel is dangerous. Every rainfall brings it closer to collapsing, and when you go deep enough the air turns to poison. You must never go in there again, do you understand? It is forbidden to all cats, for our safety.”
“Yes, Smokestar,” Lynxpaw meowed. She glanced sideways at the older she-cat, wondering if she was in too much trouble to ask questions. Decided to chance it, she asked, “What is it?”
“An old twoleg structure, called a mine,” Smokestar answered. “Long before we came here, they used to take out stone and minerals. It has been out of use for a long time, though.” Smokestar sat back on her haunches, looking at Lynxpaw critically. “You’re filthy. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Lynxpaw followed Smokestar to the stream.
The water was cold, but on a day as hot as this,
she almost didn’t mind it. The swirling currents lifted off the black dust and carried it away, so that when she stepped out, her fur was as bright has it had been before, if a bit sodden. Lynxpaw felt a bit silly, she looked like a drowned rat.
They began to walk back to camp. “Lynxpaw, I want you to promise me something,” Smokestar meowed.
“That I won’t go off exploring on my own again?” Lynxpaw asked, hanging her head.
“No,” Smokestar meowed, sounding almost amused. “Curiosity isn’t a sin. I just want you to be more careful.” She stopped, forcing Lynxpaw to look at her. “You’re a smart cat, Lynxpaw. You had to be, to survive on your own for so long. Promise me you’ll use that quick mind of yours. If somewhere seems dangerous, or you get a bad feeling, listen to your instincts. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Smokestar,” Lynxpaw meowed. “I promise I’ll be more careful.”
“Good,” Smokestar sighed. “I know this transition has been hard on you… It’s why I’ve been so lenient with your comings and goings. I just want to know you’re safe.”
Lynxpaw almost felt guilty, looking at the worry she’d caused her mentor. The black she-cat was just trying to do her best, after all. “I’ll do better,” Lynxpaw promised earnestly. “I will.” Even without her mentor’s admonition, her little accident with the minecart might have taught her to be more caution. But then again, maybe not. Exploring on her own was fun, after all, and no serious harm had come to her yet. Hurrying to catch up with her mentor, the little she-cat reflected that this might be precisely the attitude that had Smokestar so worried in the first place.
(1487/1500 words)
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