Iridescent Lagoon What a catch

@Pickerel <3 There is a Full Moon tonight

Usually a creature of the day, Morganna could seemingly more often be found now emerging from the tree roots or under a wilting shrub around noon. Perhaps it was to increase her chances of doing a round of the borders with @“Skoll”, whether they were scheming or enjoying silent companionship was anyone’s guess. Or perhaps it had something to do with the change of the seasons and her extended absence messing with her sleep cycle. Regardless, the last place she could be expected to be seen with the sun slowly sinking was alone, all the way out here… Yet with the sky painted in oranges, pinks and purples, even a streak of green - here she was reclined in a sphinx like pose on the banks of the lagoon, toes trailing across surface of the flat pool with its mirror-like surface, now disrupted by the ripples caused by her interference.

Peachy eyes turned to the horizon where a fat moon was slowly making it’s presence known. Perhaps in the warmer months fireflies would flit across it’s surface, a real world pantomime of the stars above? She hadn’t been to this particular corner before - intent on avoiding ‘bumping into’ Caverns wolves whenever it could be avoided, but they were gone now. It seemed like most of the neighbouring packs had up and left. She smiled a small smile to herself and started to hum. She would have to come back here again soon. Maybe next time she would even bring @“Sven”.

The red man paces along at an unwavering
speed; he was taking in the land around him. The musky odor of the lagoon met his nostrils,
causing them to twitch in interest. Black-edged tail swaying, he picks up his pace, aware
of the large body of water nearby. The sky above consisted of a whirl of colors, almost as
if it were a pastel painting. His interest was not upon the sky, but of what creatures lurked
within the water. Night fishing. With luck, he'd catch a catfish, a finned critter he hadn't
eaten in quite some time. With pep in his step, he grows nearer to the water, his heart beating
impatiently within his chest.

      The full moon makes its dramatic appearance in the sky. The russet coat of the wolf glows
in the waning of the moon. Heavy paws squish the moist moss as he nears the edge of the water.
Pushing past reeds, he steps into the water, the cool liquid casting a chill up his legs. He lifts his
head upward to peer about and take in his surroundings. Nearby, the figure of a wolf catches his
attention. She is of dark color; her black pelt soft in the moon's light. Alarm first ripples through
him, but Pickerel remains collected. The wolf lays casually, her paws barely dipping in the water.
Fascination begins to bubble within him. As he parts his jaws to speak, the woman begins to hum.
Pike's jaws snap shut as he listens, a small smile making its way across his slender muzzle.

    He racks his mind as to what to say. All he can conjure is "Lovely night, hmm?" His
western drawl sounds through the muggy lagoon air; his golden-orange eyes fall from the water's
still surface back to the woman.

(This post was last modified: Oct 08, 2015, 05:34 PM by Pickerel.)

@Pikerel

Small ripples countering her own was the first sign she had that she wasn’t alone, her muscles coiled ready to rise, but relaxed when a voice broke the silence. If he had any intention of causing her harm, surely he wouldn’t have given himself away so readily. Perhaps she was cocky, maybe her confidence was well placed? A casual flick of her ear in his direction was all the acknowledgement she would give to his words before her head slowly turned to consider the dark silhouette that she knew to be a wolf. It was hard to tell in this light, but he looked to be close to her own age. There was no breeze to bring her his scent so she couldn’t know if he was an ally of @Rook Lyall and the traitor @Titan.

She would take her chances.

Her paw traced back over the surface of the water, sending another wave of ripples in his direction, a small smile concealed by the failing light. “It could be…” she finally spoke to the stranger, her smirk carrying in her voice, full of promise. She was quite comfortable and had no intention of moving. She wondered what had bought him here but kept her question to herself.

(This post was last modified: Oct 09, 2015, 03:36 AM by Morganna.)

Pickerel watches her with trained curiosity.
Her ear on his side flicks as to give acknowledgement of his words. Pike standing patiently,
her head turns, and she speaks. It could be... Whatever her tone, a coy
smile places itself upon his muzzle. She remains elegantly poised at the water's
edge. "I cannot help but be attracted to the.." he pauses for half a second
"water, especially during the light of a full moon." With the grin still on
his muzzle, he turns his body toward the lagoon.

Clearing his throat, he throws his head over his shoulder to cast a brief glance at
the woman and speak more "Im a fisherman. Catfish seems plausible here;
if I've any luck, would you be interested in enjoying some as well?" Pike then
flicks his fluffed tail, amber gaze now settled back on the water. The moon's reflection
was framed by the water; the stone still surface pitching a mirrored image.

Once more he steps into the water, the water a bit further past his paws. The
temperature wasn't too cold; he'd been in colder. The russet wolf was taking
any opportunity to go fishing. The winter would soon be here and his favorite past
time would have to wait off till spring.

(This post was last modified: Oct 09, 2015, 08:03 PM by Pickerel.)

She tried to give off an air of disinterest but the tilt of her ears allowed her to catch every word. The smile fell from her face at the mention of fish, a meal she hadn’t had since the passing of her dear Nona Skana. She stood suddenly, looking back over her shoulder towards the Willows contemplating seeking out @Skoll for just a moment before she stepped forward into the water. What had been pleasant on her toes, bit at her legs with a surprising chill. Her tail sat level with her spine, if only to spare it a soaking as she slowly moved closer to the stranger to better observe him at his task.

“I ‘aven’t had fish since I was a pup.” she replied less than eloquently, clearly far from a tumescent being. The sudden ache at the memory of their loss when Skana passed away well concealed by her level voice. The stars and the moon seemed to be even more brilliant out here, dancing on the small waves she had created with her movement. Silt squished like mud between her paws as she tried not to imagine just how many creatures could be lurking beneath the surface hungry for a bite of wolf. “Would yer mind showin’ me how?” she requested boldly. If he was indeed good enough to catch fish out here in the dark, he might be of use to her yet.

The red man glances over to her in silence, watching her momentarily
look over her shoulder before entering the water. Without a word, he listens,
nodding in agreement as to show her how to catch a fish. "This technique is
a bit different from day fishing" He states, bright eyes steady on the water.
"You're not gonna see fish at night 'less you're in a shallow stream of sorts."
He shuffles forward in the water, not lifting his paws. They drag along the bottom,
stirring up the muck below. Taking in a deep breath, he rotates his head, calculating
where success would be had.

Craning his head toward her, his tone grows more quiet as he gets in his fisherman's
mindset. "Now, for catfish- there are two techniques I practice so far." One
of which, the more patient option, his father told him. The other, he had come up
with himself. The chill from the water makes him wiggle his digits. "Option A.
Stand still, and await the brushing of the fish. You have to predict where it is, and
dart in quickly. Option B. Generally in a lagoon like this, there will be inlets on the
bottom of lagoon. Catfish like hiding in these. You may get a toe bit if you put your
foot in one too far, but it doesn't hurt too bad."

The wry grin on his muzzle is temporary; he is gazing at the water once more.
The russet pelted one stands still, attempting option A. After a few minutes, he
walks a few paces toward his left before yet another pause. He could feel move-
ment of the water below. Tension grips his chest; he awaited the brushing. Within
a few moments, he feels the sweeping of the fish.

Splash! His ears flatten against his head as he shoots his head under the water.
The cold almost gives him a headache. His teeth clamp toward the back end of
the plump catfish. Perfect. He wanted to stay away from the long barbels of
the fish. Yanking his head to the left, he releases the fish, letting it plop on the
shoreline. Swiftly, his body follows, and his nose nudges at the side of the critter.
It topples on its side, flapping about urgently. Pike awaits it to be still, and when
it pauses in exhaustion, he clamps onto the soft belly of the fish.

The catfish stills, passing away seconds after bite from Pike. Smiling proudly, he
returns to the water, keeping space between him and the mystery woman beside
him.

(This post was last modified: Oct 11, 2015, 07:27 PM by Pickerel.)

She listened intently, her head tilting ever so slightly as she watched the man at work, feeling something slither by her foot just after his mention. She jerked her paw away reflexively and felt a rush of water against the other leg as the fish raced away. Clearly this would take some getting used to. He seemed to pause before his head darted under the water, emerging with a fat fish that was quickly thrown onto the bank, left to suffocate for a while before her companion delivered his killing blow. Well that looks simple enough… she thought to herself, eyes scanning the banks was he returned to the water, looking for a place where the earth seemed to curve, roots poking through what soil remained.

Eyeing a place that in her mind presented potential she moved towards it slowly, not lifting her paws too quickly for fear of startling all the fish that remained. As she considered the best angle of approach, one paw dangled indecisively below the waters surface. Without warning there was a sudden drag and pressure about her forelimb, a look of horror coming over her face before she trust her head below the surface, to bite whatever had her back. She caught the fish somewhere about its midsection, catching her head on an overhanging root on her way back up. Panic again, and the blood rushing in her ears as she finally fought her way free. The fish put up a fierce struggle, a barbed fin collecting her snout. Her sudden yelp of surprise set her dinner loose again with a loud splash. It was far from the graceful display her companion had managed.

Her eyes began to water from the pain (and perhaps a dash of humiliation). Now she was cold, wet, and sore with nothing to show for it. “Yer didn’ tell me they had stabbin’ bits!” she moaned, too readily reminded of her very first very first experience where dinner fought back and won.

Pickerel, whilst awaiting the sweeping of another fish, watches Morganna
from the corner of his eye. His eyes widen slightly as he watches her face go from normal to a contortion of fear. Her head
shoots below the surface, and she successfully brings up a fish. The fish flares its fins, though, and manages to knick her
nose. Pike's ears press back and his fur prickles somewhat in alarm. With a small frown, he shakes his head, beginning
to apologize profusely. "Oh... I'm-I'm-" He stops to calm down, his brows furrowing in concern. "Are you
alright? I sincerely apologize for forgetting to mention that..." He glimpses down to the water. "Please. Eat
the fish I've caught already... perhaps the flavor will convince you to try again."

It was completely up to her as to what she'd do next. Yes, he felt bad, and he certainly wouldn't blame her if she
decided to give up. His gut told him that she was different, though. That she'd try again. Hopefully he thinks,
ears perking forward. With another glance to the dark woman, the red man continues his fishing. He walks a bit
further out now, the water almost tickling his underbelly. The moon's light makes the water a stage. Pike stands
patiently as he awaits the movement of water.

His mind bites at him as he waits. He wonders whether or not the woman will stay. If she left, he'd feel horrible. If
she stayed, his curiosity in her would only grow. The water moves below him; the current of it unusually strong. A
look of inquisitiveness creeps across the russet wolf's face. He looks downward, unable to make out the shape of
his prey below. His jaw almost drops when he feels the side of the fish against his leg. This one was heavily scaled.
Definitely not a catfish. The hell with it- what he thinks before his head shoots below the surface. He plunges
a few inches before the fish; where it will be swimming toward. His jaws meet the scales, and he clenches as hard
as he can. This was a big fish. Bubbles emit from his nose as the scaled creature goes into panic, swishing
about uncontrollably.

Pike's neck grows tense as he holds on. He was beginning to run out of air. He fights the fish, tugging his head in
the opposite directions it tried to escape in. Yanking upward, his nose breaches the water, and he takes in a heavy
breath. The thrashing continued. Pike almost wanted to release the fish, but he'd put so much energy in already,
why would he give up now? He begins backing up, tripping up here and there as the fish continues its struggle.
Pickerel desperately plops back in the shallows, tightening his grip as the finned one's tail slaps his neck. Pressing
the fish to the bottom of the water, he drags it, finally arriving at the shoreline. With a second wind gracing the
fisherman, he yanks it up onto shore before falling back on his rear.

It was a large carp. The thick-scaled fish flops crazily on the shore, its wide eyes staring blankly toward the starry
sky. Pike, having caught his breath momentarily, leaps toward it, clamping down upon its head and twisting. A sharp snap
its demise. He looks up, panting heavily, pride glowing from him.

She wasn’t going to take a loners fish. Not when she had a pack with hunters and caches if she wound up starving. She huffed momentarily and inched away from the edge, considering what to do next. As her companion shot his head below the surface again and failed to come back up straight away she almost panicked again, taking two short bounds toward him before his head finally broke the surface with a large silver fish. She could only watch, no doubt having scared all the fish in the vicinity off with her sudden movement and the violence of his catch’s fight.

“Impressive.” She praised him with a smile, thinking that perhaps she should introduce herself to this one. She waited a few moments more but there was no more movement around her feet. “I think they’re onto us.” She finally conceded with a smile, slowly making her way back to dry land weighing up the options. “Morganna Archer, Willow Ridge.” she finally declared, leaving the end of her introduction open for his own. “Th’ water’ll be frozen soon. What’r yer plans fer th’ winter?” she questioned. She was sure they would always find room for just one more.

Pickerel regains his composure as the female speaks to him.
At her praising words, his face warms up. Then came her introduction. Pike's ears
strain forward at the words Willow Ridge. He teeters forward, missing her
comment about the water freezing over. His mind reels as he thinks about his father
informing him of Willow Ridge, and to seek it out. How fortunate that his first run-in
with a wolf would be an actual member of it. He grins, "I'll be damned." He
takes a few steps toward her before slightly dipping her head. "Pickerel Acoy. My
father was a member at the forming of your pack."

He's trying to compile his words; he was ecstatic. "I'd been told to seek it out."
He pauses, his tail remaining low as he speaks again. "I would certainly like to join
your family. We could bring these fish back for the cache." Food was always a
good offering, or at least that's what he thought. His amber gaze looks to her, but he
looks away occasionally as not to appear challenging. He feels anxiety beginning to
creep through his chest, increasing his heart beat. If he'd be able to join, it would be
interesting to meet the woman who started the pack. He couldn't remember her first nor
last name.