- Jan 12, 2023
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shellpaw finds herself riverside on a blistering day ; too hot to still be newleaf, golden sun rioting down upon a slick lilac - ribboned back and drying into frizz - rung curls. she hovers over the rippling water's edge with eyes squinted, white - hot sparklings glaring back into her tender eyes. it had been nearly a moon beneath lichenstar's study and she had yet to catch a thing herself ; regardless of how placating mourning dove tones soothe, fragmented words of pacing and encouragement going in one ear and out the other. did it always take this long? had pebblepaw taken so much time getting to know the territory? had riverpaw? had ospreypaw? lilac - tipped paws flex at the shore's edge, nerve - ridden and impatient, checking for any glimpse of her own shadow upon the shallows. it was past time for her to carry her weight ; to apologize for the uselessness she felt upon their recent dog attack, to feed her youngers and her elders in apology. they have just begun to return after the twoleg's filth, overfishing and pollution.. now was her chance, it had to be.
troutsnout's words play in her head, you have to position yourself so your shadow doesn't cast on the surface and catch them when they're off guard. shellpaw had. the river gazes back at her lifelessly until time begins to wear on her, until she feels the antsiness meet her mentor's paws that would find them further downstream. she prepares to return to camp empty - pawed. suddenly, a shadow flits. she reaches, half - hoping.
her claws catch.
panic grips her throat and she gasps, nearly wrenching her paw from the water upon instinct alone ; the slightest pressure from thornlike claws clipping between green - golden scales she can see when it thrashes in her grasp. the sound of frantic splashing batters still afternoon air, water flying from where she stands wraithlike in the shallows, spritzing from flailing paws and fins like the falls themself. she makes a bitten sound of alarm when, with a heavy upward thrust of trembling forelimb, she finally manages to wrangle the barbel from its place and latches her teeth into its back. its bigger than she'd expected from the quivering river surface, weighing at her short muzzle as water rolls from its thick flank. there is a brief touch of slime, algae - ridden fresh as it is, excitement pulses through her regardless, head whirling upward to show her mentor, to show her mother, eyes gleaming with the beginnings of look, look! .. giving the angry creature ample time to lift its thick tail and, unceremoniously, give her a firm thwak across the thickly - fluffed cheek.
stunned more than hurt, the girl stumbles with its wild thrashing, lurching her neck to toss it towards the pebbled shore. it is still far from dead -- sleek and writhing, long and gape - mouthed in the same way shellpaw had only moons ago. it heaves for breath on each frantic kick it starts back towards the water before shellpaw clambers back on top of it, back heels still submerged when she leans down and bites. it moves still, heaves, thrashes, and so she bites it again -- too lightly, though pearlescent teeth sink into delicate white meat. shellpaw grumbles her frustration against sleek scales, rears back, tries again.. she squeezes and squeezes her teeth, feels her belly turn awkwardly with how far she must clench her jaw before, after what seems like an eternity.. snap. a curled tailfin flops lifelessly to the wet soil, the child lifting her head with a wild gasp. i did it, she thinks, soaking wet to the tendril - thin bone and slouched with exertion, both paws over her barbel's fat body. i did it.
her very first catch. eyes like strawberry mush lift, whirl for approval, drenched tail coming to lift over her patched back despite the pulse of exhaustion that brief battle had worn on her, โ do.. โ a panting start, willow thin and hoarse, โ do they always fight like that.. โ
troutsnout's words play in her head, you have to position yourself so your shadow doesn't cast on the surface and catch them when they're off guard. shellpaw had. the river gazes back at her lifelessly until time begins to wear on her, until she feels the antsiness meet her mentor's paws that would find them further downstream. she prepares to return to camp empty - pawed. suddenly, a shadow flits. she reaches, half - hoping.
her claws catch.
panic grips her throat and she gasps, nearly wrenching her paw from the water upon instinct alone ; the slightest pressure from thornlike claws clipping between green - golden scales she can see when it thrashes in her grasp. the sound of frantic splashing batters still afternoon air, water flying from where she stands wraithlike in the shallows, spritzing from flailing paws and fins like the falls themself. she makes a bitten sound of alarm when, with a heavy upward thrust of trembling forelimb, she finally manages to wrangle the barbel from its place and latches her teeth into its back. its bigger than she'd expected from the quivering river surface, weighing at her short muzzle as water rolls from its thick flank. there is a brief touch of slime, algae - ridden fresh as it is, excitement pulses through her regardless, head whirling upward to show her mentor, to show her mother, eyes gleaming with the beginnings of look, look! .. giving the angry creature ample time to lift its thick tail and, unceremoniously, give her a firm thwak across the thickly - fluffed cheek.
stunned more than hurt, the girl stumbles with its wild thrashing, lurching her neck to toss it towards the pebbled shore. it is still far from dead -- sleek and writhing, long and gape - mouthed in the same way shellpaw had only moons ago. it heaves for breath on each frantic kick it starts back towards the water before shellpaw clambers back on top of it, back heels still submerged when she leans down and bites. it moves still, heaves, thrashes, and so she bites it again -- too lightly, though pearlescent teeth sink into delicate white meat. shellpaw grumbles her frustration against sleek scales, rears back, tries again.. she squeezes and squeezes her teeth, feels her belly turn awkwardly with how far she must clench her jaw before, after what seems like an eternity.. snap. a curled tailfin flops lifelessly to the wet soil, the child lifting her head with a wild gasp. i did it, she thinks, soaking wet to the tendril - thin bone and slouched with exertion, both paws over her barbel's fat body. i did it.
her very first catch. eyes like strawberry mush lift, whirl for approval, drenched tail coming to lift over her patched back despite the pulse of exhaustion that brief battle had worn on her, โ do.. โ a panting start, willow thin and hoarse, โ do they always fight like that.. โ
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i. rolled a 10 on size < 3 she caught a big ol' barbel !! she didnt know how / where to properly bite though.. mentor tag @lichenstar teehee. burbot for twoleg bingo! ( the fish are returning.. maybe it wasnt all for nothing )
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frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.SHELLPAW ๐ SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENTAIL ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TOSMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS-----------------ยฐ โ โshe is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
