OFFSHORE — ⟡ — intro

[skipperheart]

WILD WOMEN DONT GET THE BLUES ✧​

Trace her lineage down the riverbend, streams interconnecting along the shore where trout lay their young. Therein you’ll find the dozens of felines who’ve carved their way through the waters, nestled by the reeds and spitting fish bones into the sanded beds. They’ve whittled ivory til pink flesh no longer clings to its remains, casting leftovers to hungry hawks and waiting mayflies; thus began the everlasting cycle of rebirth and death and feasting. She is neither the first nor the last to haunt these plentiful waters but her legacy remains nevertheless.

Where mottled paws sink into the mud, there she stood in place of her father (who stood where his father was, and so on and so forth); she hears his whispered encouragement of spearing a minnow upon needle-thin claws, or clamping down upon salmon between thick canines. He’s much older now, a mere memory of the fisherman of his youth (when near him, she pretends he’s still in his prime, splashing within the currents — she doesn’t tell him this) but still somewhat spry enough to remember the call of the water. She brings him prey and he rattles off his thoughts upon the fishing season in Riverclan, ramblings that her mother lulled to sleep to, mutters that catch upon silvered whiskers. In her idle time, she dreams of catching fish that he’d caught when he was her age, forever along the river, fishing until her heart was content. Perhaps this is why she frequented the waters, in hopes of fulfilling that impossible dream.

Cloaked in citrus hues, the beginning of dawn didn’t seem to slow down the gathering of apprentices along the shoreline, wide eyes eagerly taking in her drenched form. She is the teacher, she is the siren: her identity is blurred between both roles as of now. “The key to become an excellent fisher,” Skipperheart begins, her voice soft and still laced with sleepiness, “is to ground yourself. Make sure you feel the grainy texture beneath your paws and allow yourself to slip in — but don’t fall! I won’t be catching anyone today.” Memories of when she was but a mere student beneath her mentor, eager to stand upon the pebbled floor and squealing with excitement. History repeats itself; a feeling of nostalgia washing upon her seeing the younger felines rushing into shallow water, splashing their clanmates with a fervent joy. In their eagerness to leave the shore, a rogue wave came her way and buried her beneath the water. She rose with wide verdant eyes to the sound of her fellow warriors laughing at the sight, some even joining her and beginning to fish, or chiding the younger apprentices on their techniques. Her head shakes some droplets of water before she begins to fish herself, waiting idly by for something to swim past her.

// mobile
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[PIKESPLASH]

( tags ) Tallwave nudges him to see Skipperheart get buried by the waves, his ears tilt at the sound of her laughter along with the other warriors who he had been catching up with. He can't help but shake his head and smile at Tallwave before slipping away from the group and to Skipperheart's side. She doesn't pay any mind to his presence which he is not annoyed by, seeing as she was concentrated on catching a fish. He too would often times become completely absorbed and forget about everything else. Hmmm... The clan was having one of their rare moments of peace and while Skipperheart wanted to fish, he also wanted her to join them in their joy. It appeared as if Skipperheart was not one of them from a glance. Maybe it was presumptuous of him to consider that she even wanted to let loose and muck about in the water.

"H-hey Skipperheart. Are you okay?" Oof, maybe it was not the wisest decision to bring up the wave that buried her underwater. He means no real harm, he simply didn't know how to speak with her. After all, he never really talked to her before much less went on a patrol with her. They were strangers essentially. We're already having a rough start. Think, you can save this Pike! We are fishing! Fishing! Fish... What's her favorite fish? Yes! Good! He might've gotten her slightly annoyed by asking and then quickly adding, "What kind of fish are you hoping to catch? Got any preferences?" Would this be considered small talk?

One thing was certain. If she said she wanted to catch a lamprey or that she loved lamprey he would be crying. Inside of course! Because... Lamprey. Their horrid teeth. He simply couldn't stand them because of how they looked. The taste was... Okay, but everything else was horrendous. Honestly he didn't know how some cats could eat the thing so easily. Doesn't the face and teeth weird you out? Or is that just me?​

 

[lichenstar]

Neatly tucked paws sit quietly at the river's edge, eyes flitting between the youth that chattered away excitedly as Skipperheart struggled to project her voice over their childish squealing. It always spurred the thought that parenthood seemed more like a curse than a gift... to have so many impatient little ones biting at your ankles and making demands. Their own apprentice still gave them cause for worry- they felt inept in the face of teaching though they did their best to be a nurturing force. It was only made more humiliating knowing she'd essentially stolen time from Brookpaw by simply not paying attention near WindClan's border... by getting herself into trouble-

The absence of an ear would be a reminder of that. It wouldn't happen again.

As the school of kitten-cats rushed into the waves, Skipperheart found herself on the tail end of their reckless abandon, easily capsizing the sleeping siren under the surface for a brief moment. A small smile formed at their face to see her water-logged figure appear back above the water level- they imagined that's what they looked like too when Pikesplash had practically shoved a waterfall's worth of water onto their head in a splash battle. It was a little funny... if only because they knew she was safe.

Tracing the edge of the bank with the plush skin of her paw pads, the blue cat scrunched up their nose in distaste for how chilly the rapids felt today before wading in, moving through the rough-housing apprentices with an amused headshake as a few considered setting their sights on her instead of each other. It seemed for now, that gentle refusal would save them from completely soaking-

"Seems the only thing you'll be catching is yourself," they meowed, affect flat despite its intention to be a joke rather than a statement. Tail flicking just over the top of the water, a dip of her head was directed towards her friend in greeting (as awkward as ever, he was struggling to talk to Skipperheart), "The apprentices will learn not to drown us I hope... at least the fish can't drown too."​

 

[CLAYFUR]

The tom watches as Skipperheart explains to the gathered apprentices and other RiverClan cats; the she-cat has been in these lands for as long as RiverClan has existed, and even longer. He trusts that she knows these waters and the fish that thrive within them better than anyone, and smiles gently as she tells the apprentices specifically not to fall in. Maybe he should ask her for some tips and tricks, a training session of his own. He’s got fishing down pretty well, but even experts (not that he entirely considers himself to be one) could always use a refresher, a view from another perspective.

Before he can think to ask, Skipperheart is shoved under the water by a stray wave, and he’s only worried for a heartbeat before the warrior pops back up, eyes moon-wide. "Oh, are you-" he shuts his mouth once again as Pike asks the question he’d intended, and Lichentail jokes about the fisher catching herself. Thank the stars that Lichentail steps in, though, because Pikesplash is being kind of, like, awkward. "That wave really came out of nowhere, huh?" He quips, bicolored tail flicking. His words are lighthearted, sympathetic. She must be feeling somewhat embarrassed after that disaster; he hopes to reassure her, somehow.​

[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[BONERIPPLE]

જ➶ Though she has been with Riverclan for some time now she does have days where she refuses to get her pelt wet at all. She doesn't necessarily have to get wet everyday so today she has been focusing on hunting on the lands around them. There is enough water vole, mice, sometimes rats to go around and give some diversity to the freshkill pile. She is stalking something now when she hears the laughter and her prey scurries off. With a small exasperated sigh the tall and lanky huntress makes her way over to the scene, just catching the wave that washes over Skipperheart. Amusement spreads over her rather severe expression as she finds herself within the group. Tapping her tail tip gently against the ground she shakes her head a little. "Guess the water fights back sometimes."

Still that makes her think of Beesong and how the river took him. The frown returns for just a moment. She understands how finicky the waves can truly be given the things that have happened.​