SCALED BEASTS | fishing

[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

hyacinth had been annoying her. in a far different way than the molly had previously been annoying her. instead of being followed by lightning, now, hyacinth had seemed to be following her. everywhere she turns she can spot the silver molly. sometimes looking at her, sometimes not.

the fish are still scarce, many still glazen over in wait of warmer waters. though, she knows of a few that grow tired and restless of a still state; moving into smaller rivulets. it's warmer where the sun can reach and penetrate easier, unlike the bigger body of water. it takes far more time to warm that up. her paws follow the same path she had followed since she was a kit. the ground is familiar and the air is calm, she could not ask for more at the moment.

and, it turns out, she is still right. there, in a smaller stream, can be seen the distinct scales of a few brave fish. they are still slow-moving, their metabolisms slowed still. for a bit, she simply watches them. the slow-moving turns, trying to be warm without being easy-pickings. she'd rot next to here if she could. let her bones fall into the earth, if only for the peace of it. though, she supposes it is too gruesome of a thought for now.

with quickness and agility unique to river cats, buck strikes. the creature is not big or impressive by any means, not as fat as they are in the spring when they are made to indulge. but it works. and she knows that the other will not move much. still tired. still still. the unlucky one is pulled onto shore, while she debates another.
​

 

[hyacinthbreath]

It was intentional. Every moment of her following the much larger molly around camp, every moment when they made eye contact- Hyacinthbreath wanted to be seen by the Deputy, noticed by her. Not of any childish affection, but of a desperate need to be seen as one of them. She was RiverClan, but not in blood nor in spirit. Not yet, at least. She still needed proper training, proper guidance. Buck had taken to noticing her moorland roots more often as of late, referring to her as if she still breathed the moorland's air. Juniperfrost's death was evident enough that she needed no coddling, no reminder of her loyalties- she was RiverClan, and she was going to make sure everyone knew that.

Even her Deputy, whom so obviously made her distaste for her known.

So on this day, when Buckgait seems so eager to catch a fish, Hyacinthbreath follows her like a shadow. The first fish is caught with skill, an impressed flicker of light meets her eyes and Hyacinth feels like an eager apprentice once again. "How'd you do that?" Hyacinthbreath asks, breathless- this molly was talented. No wonder she was Deputy. Her tail curls in close to her body as she settles down not too far from the molly, gauging her reactions and keeping an eye on her body language to avoid any mishaps.

"Can I try? Teach me, ma'am?" Hyacinthbreath asks, blinking up towards the woman. She never minded learning more, in fact- she soaked up information like a sponge. But that didn't mean she was always successful at copying others. ​

❝ there are wounds inside me, gaping holes of disconnect.
can you drown inside your own body? can you suffocate within this mind? ❞

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) there's a light fondness in the seafoam eyes of the molly as she follows her friend towards an old haunt. leaf-bare has stolen many things throughout the past few moons, but some part of willowroot relishes the closeness to her old areas. from where she is, the old hollow tree can be seen, still hanging gently over the river, branches weeping into the water. ah, she thinks, to go back to simpler times, before madness and floods. indeed, her past has been on her mind much lately. as slender paws fit into the prints of buckgait, willowroot remembers yearningly the moons spent with the earthen molly, when it seemed as though they were the only rulers of the river.

as buck settles beside the smaller stream, willow glances around to offer a small smile to hyacinthbreath who arrives moments after. they've heard buck's complaints about the paler molly, muttering 'mhm' and 'ah yeah' when the deputy rants, but her own opinion of the former windclanner is slightly different. there is an odd desperation in hya's violet gaze every time she addresses buckgait, or speaks with cicadastar. even now, in her voice, there is a tone of determination, as if she is attempting once again to prove herself. silently, willowroot feels a little bad, equipped with the knowledge of how long buckgait's grudges last.

still, the silver molly is trying, and has been for moons. it's enough that the lead warrior doesn't have negative feelings towards her anymore. tufted ears flicking, the smoke nudges her companion. "good catch, bucky." then, her head swivels to the other. "buckgait's the best fisher i know. if she's willing to teach, you're lucky." ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )