pafp running back through the fire / fishing turned waterfight??

[DUCKPAW]

tags! ₊˚✧ ﾟ. it was hot. when duckpaw peers into the distance from her perch inside the camp, far-away foliage seems to quiver and ripple. the heat was visible. jaws are set apart with shock, a far cry from her usually neutral features. i didn't know that this kind of heat was possible! it was no secret that she wasn't so adept to this weather. her fur was something she had once been thankful for, but now it was plastered cloyingly to her skin, soaked in sweat that did little to defend against the sweltering temperatures. even the earth seemed parched, having been ransacked of moisture by the relentless sun. it was dusty and a lighter hue of brown, cracks had opened up in certain places as if the maw of the land was open and beseeching the sky for water.

duckpaw continued to swat the flies off of her backside with her tail. she could hardly blame them, she felt as if she was actively decomposing the longer she stayed in one place. when she decides that it's too overbearing, it's no surprise that she finds herself at the edge of the river, looking longingly into the crystalline water. she doesn't think to jump in to ease the suffering, but a small paw does dabble in the surface, and a surprised gasp is brought forth at the cool sensation. i will fish. thats sensible... fishing is more of a waiting game, and a standing-still game, and a patience game. duckpaw is short in supply of all three virtues. the broiling heat is rising and irritating her. she doesn't let her shadow fall into the river, and a few fish swim by, but somehow they all fall out of range. she huffs and moves up the river to try her luck under the shade of a willow tree.

// pafp - wait forr @FERNGILL
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[FERNGILL]

Newleaf was an odd time of the year, so-very fickle. On some days i was miserable, the sky weeping as if it'd lost its whole family (though Ferngill supposed he could somewhat relate). On other days it was clear, and after such a long-feeling leafbare the heat coming from the sun felt blistering. Even if swimming hadn't been his most innate talent, the fiery tom imagined he would have loved the river so ardently anyway for the reprieve it brought on days like this.

Fishing was slow going... maybe they'd been made lethargic by the heat? Even if hunting was normally slow, a waiting game indeed, there was usually some luck by now. He'd only caught one minnow...

Hearing the soft brush of footsteps, a single green eye moved to settle upon Duckpaw, who had just wandered up next to him; a long blink of silent greeting was offered, before Ferngill's sweltering attention returned to the river. There was... there was something moving, deep in the depths... he swore he could see it. An inquisitive eye of green narrowed, and Ferngill leaned precariously forward to have a look at it. He wobbled a little on his feet, neck craned.​

✦ penned by pin ✦​