thawed ⟳╱ intro.

[eelwatcher]

☾ what intricate prayers leaves a vile mouth, bitter tongue spurning silver-laden words in hopes of a successful fishing.

this is her hymnal; may the rivers overflow with silver fish as indigo heavens bless the land beneath such starry sights, lest she becomes swept away beneath foul currents. she rose at the beginning of each rosy-tinged dawn and slipped towards the reeds, ivory claws plucking skinny minnows for the freshkill pile, whispering her thanks to starclan. a frown always accompanied verdant eyes as she scanned the shoreline, careful not to go any further into the river than necessary. hook an unsuspecting fish, sink sharp teeth into pale pink flesh, leave behind tiny bones to signify that she was here and that she will return. this is her ritual since the sudden approach of leafbare came upon silent winds, creeping with a frosted promise: the rivers will begin to freeze over.
​

consider her a leaf-fall kind of warrior; where green bleeds into crimson leaves that fell to the ground, or water voles that seemed aplenty hidden betwixt the streams, such autumnal surprises always seemed to mystify her. blame her birth for being at the cusp of green-leaf, where the warm weather envelops a feline carefully and brought a stability in the waves, or blame her arrival in the middle of leafbare, where she barely clung to life at such a young age, for her extreme distaste for the cold. eel would never admit to either answer, but she knows deep within rotted sinews that her vulnerability had put her at a disadvantage — a mistake that she has sought to rectify since becoming an adult, a mistake that will never happen again.

❝don't jump in the water, you'll freeze.❞ her only warning to the apprentices that stood ever so diligently nearby, plumed tail wrapping carefully over dainty paws. in her mind, she's questioning her decision to accompany the fishing patrol, typically she preferred going by herself with no watching party, no sudden dangers. and yet she can't bring herself to leave, umber form firmly planted on the sidelines. eelwatcher will wait, she supposes; scan the brook for yellow-bellied minnows or the stripes belonging to chubs, observe the other felines, feel the crisp air curl her long whiskers as she brisked herself from the cold. ​

( AS LONG AS WE'RE TOGETHER ; I'LL BE THE ONLY HEARTBREAKER )

 

[BUCKGAIT.]

MY NAME IS BRUTUS AND MY NAME MEANS HEAVY ✧​

one must build a strong tolerance to chill-bitten waters in the river territory. it is all she's known once the leaves had fallen and left barren trees. she remembers her first experience, alone on the banks and wild with the desperation to be seen as something brave and strong. when her paw had first touched the water and she had howled with a strong dislike for it. but it didn't quite matter how much buck hadn't liked the cold waters. it didn't matter if her bones grew cold and fur damp, there is little room for complaints when it comes to survival.

her eyes roam the banks, eelwatcher does the same. they both have the shared hesitation of approaching the water further, but only buck will push past it and venture in. her bones are deeply intimate with a leaf-barrren season, knowing when to become tense and when to let go. when to add heat, when to leave, and warm herself. the clan needs to eat, and fish are good for river cats. they should fill up when they can.

her eyes are steady upon the prize, an unfortunate beast still remaining in her presence. unaware that anything lingers above it, or the impending doom. her shadow is well hidden, and she is far more still than any large rock. it's with an alarming quickness that the chub leaves the waters, paws quick to drag it out, and even quicker to try and throw it at eelwatcher's face. she'll involve the other somehow. no patrol member gets to sit out due to a dislike of cold water.
​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) a breeze filters through smoke and shadow fur as the lead warrior paces the banks, squinting against the pale leaf-fall sun. the water laps at her paws, a chill running down her spine at the icy touch, and yet she does not move from it. she is born of storms and frothing waves- her time on the twoleg waters has taught her much about staying warm in the depths of winter, and as she fluffs up her coat, she remembers moons of doing the same upon shores of a much bigger body of water. if anything about her old life has helped, it's been that experience. eelwatcher's soft reprimand to the accompanying apprentices is amusing and the femme shoots the other a glance, eyebrows raised teasingly as she lifts a paw, contemplating a splash in the molly's direction. just then, buckgait's lightning fast paw slashes through the water before willowroot can move, and a fish flops up onto the bank. buck's got it handled, then. slipping into the shallows, a soft hiss escapes her as the water soaks her skin. ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )