AND THE TRUTH IS STRANGE — fishing

[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
The sun is hot against her spine, and where her dense pelt is usually able to offer her minimal relief, it feels as though the suns rays had finally found a way to break through the barrier, and sear against her skin.
Lakemoon is relentless however, perched on the rivers bank in waiting, shoulders arched back to keep her shadow away from the waters surface.
She had come with a patrol to the river this time, and while she wasn’t yet confident in her swimming skills enough to perform in front of prying eyes, the silvery warrior saw no issue in fishing.
Finally, something flicks up against the water upstream, a silvered back almost impossible to see so far away, but a promising glimpse was captured.
Lakemoon readies herself, watching the unsuspecting meal swim it’s way against the rocky riverbank.
As though lighting was in her blood, her paw dives through the chilly waters surface, bringing back up with it a still-flopping fish with a powerful yank upwards.
Her catch is sloppier than Lakemoon would have liked, but food was food.
She delivers the finishing bite almost as if it were land-prey, but her teeth don’t have to sink in nearly as deep.
A huff escapes her as Lakemoon tosses her catch towards the small pile the patrol had already started.
In the back of her mind, she wonders what Houndstride would have to say about this- about her, here, fishing.
Something light-hearted, or perhaps one of his strange praises that would have made her snort.
A sigh, and she turns back towards the river.
"speech"

tags​

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[PIKESPLASH]

( tags ) "Something wrong?" He mewls as he approaches Lakemoon slowly. Houndstride had gone... Missing recently and it had been the talk of a few nights trying to figure out what happened to the warrior. The worst part is that no body was found. He could sense that Cicadastar was troubled by this fact because one of their own was gone without a trace. Everyone knew that Houndstride wouldn't abandon his clan, nor did they have any proof that a twoleg kidnapped Houndstride. What they did know was that Houndstride was gone and it seemed he was dead. He had heard Cicadastar was looking for Houndstride and that was to be expected. Houndstride was a Riverclan warrior and he deserved to be found and be with his clanmates. He deserved to be surrounded by friends and family at least one more time.

Pikesplash is unsure of Lakemoon's relationship with Houndstride. one thing is certain though, Lakemoon was troubled by something. He had been watching her and today she seemed to be struggling more so than usual. He and Lakemoon are not close, but he hopes she is not angered by butting his head in her buisness by asking what is wrong. To assume something is wrong. Nevertheless he continues, "I'm here. If you would like to talk about it, or anything that's on your mind?"​

 

[dovethroat.]

The heat has been almost suffocating for every moment that has been spent out of the water, but Dovethroat decidedly enjoys it more than the cold. The cold is a terrible, nipping, killing thing—heat (outside of fire, obviously) was stifling, but never so bad as heat. That was his belief, anyway. He was not on patrol right now (he was not a very good fisher, anyway; Hyacinthbreath's teachings had been almost entirely focused on land-based prey), but he was nonetheless about.

To Dovethroat, the best thing about the heat was the following permissiveness of swimming. Swimming was always encouraged in RiverClan, but it was rather hard to justify in the middle of leaf-bare. When the sun was at its most potent, one was viewed as perfectly justified in swimming as much as possible.

Dovethroat knows nothing of Lakemoon's worries, and he knows even less about the interpersonal relationships. What he does notice, however, is that he is about to swim right into the patrol's hunting zone.

"Wh-Whoops, sorry," Dovethroat sputters, immediately pivoting and veering off to the bank, awkwardly shambling out of the river next to them—soaking wet, of course. He lets out a weird-sounding sniff, and then shuffles a bit to the side.

A bad time to almost ruin a hunt, and an equally bad time to sit next to a couple of barely-acquaintances while dripping from the ears, he thinks.

[⋆]​

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[✧ Stalkingpaw.]

˚⊹ MEET ME UNDER SHINING LIGHTS ⊹˚

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stalkingpaw & 09 moons & polygender & any pronouns & riverclan apprentice​

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Stalkingpaw isn't here to fish, but to take a breather after her own patrol - two mice dangle by their tails from her midnight jaws and green eyes all but glitter in pride - tail held high in the air and all as she hoins the group, setting her catch down in the steadily growing pile before dipping her toes into the shallows. "That's a nice fish! Wish I could hunt that good in the water, but I can't," and heavens forbid she tris to take a dip the way dovethroat does because truly, there'd be no fish left for anyone. it's not as though its a secret, and she doesn't feel ashamed - she knows she's tried (is trying) her best, she simply has her own set of skills better suited for the land. That's all.

— I've been waiting right here all my life ⊹˚

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• — a beautiful white furred apprentice with a black face and stripe down her back, and starlike freckles upon her cheeks. emerald eyes are wide and expressive, by far her most stunning feature. stalkingpaw is an emotional feline, quick to act and react before she really thinks, but you know that whatever she says and does is always honest and well intentioned.
  
  — physically easy && mentally medium
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=crimson]action here[/color][/b] and tag account