Post by Mikachu on Feb 7, 2019 12:59:23 GMT
Owl That Watches The Shadows
The massive reynard loomed over the narrow stream, the water droplets of its quickly rushing water flicking up and dampening his grizzled coat. His copper gaze, its features metallic, with what occasionally appeared to be a hint of green shimmering in its dark hue, were focused a few steps out from where his huge paws rested, the sudden, silver flickers in the water signalling to him visually that fish were upon him. He wasn't a male lacking in skill, in fact, he considered himself rather skilled in hunting typical prey, but it was the small size and sleekness of the fish in the stream that he had never quite mastered in catching, and it was practicality that, upon his initial joining Fieldclan, had informed him that attempting to further the skill, would be a waste of his time. Fish, after all, was not the primary prey in the moors. But Owl was a stickler for perfection, things needed to be done properly or else they could hardly be considered done at all, and his weaknesses were cause for agitation in his eyes.
Ebony pupils, sudden slits that cut through his reddish gaze like his fangs cut through flesh, flickered back and forth, following the silvery figures of the minnows that seemed to be scattered rays of light rather than any sort of creature. His long, thickly-furred tail sweeped the ground behind him as he sat, brushing away any scattered leaves that had found their way behind his sitting form. Suddenly, the massive male was on his paws, careful to not let his shadow hover over the rushing stream, before allowing his paws to slap into the water, his aim towards the shimmering fish true. But light was the most masterful of illusionists, her rays felt inclined to warp and manipulate the very thing that enabled his sight, and it was light that had revealed the fish to his eyes a few inches above their actual position. All they seemed to feel was the graze of water brushing around their scaled forms before they scattered, the water clear from any blood much to his nearly-masked disappointment.
And so, the male leaned back one again, rocking back on his powerful haunches before sitting once again, his shadow disappearing from over the trickling water of the stream and his gaze, once again, flickering back and forth, searching for the fish to return. Minutes passed, minutes filled with silence other than the deceptively peaceful trickle of water, and in a few moments, the fish had returned, wary, but otherwise none the wiser to his typically overbearing presence.
The massive reynard loomed over the narrow stream, the water droplets of its quickly rushing water flicking up and dampening his grizzled coat. His copper gaze, its features metallic, with what occasionally appeared to be a hint of green shimmering in its dark hue, were focused a few steps out from where his huge paws rested, the sudden, silver flickers in the water signalling to him visually that fish were upon him. He wasn't a male lacking in skill, in fact, he considered himself rather skilled in hunting typical prey, but it was the small size and sleekness of the fish in the stream that he had never quite mastered in catching, and it was practicality that, upon his initial joining Fieldclan, had informed him that attempting to further the skill, would be a waste of his time. Fish, after all, was not the primary prey in the moors. But Owl was a stickler for perfection, things needed to be done properly or else they could hardly be considered done at all, and his weaknesses were cause for agitation in his eyes.
Ebony pupils, sudden slits that cut through his reddish gaze like his fangs cut through flesh, flickered back and forth, following the silvery figures of the minnows that seemed to be scattered rays of light rather than any sort of creature. His long, thickly-furred tail sweeped the ground behind him as he sat, brushing away any scattered leaves that had found their way behind his sitting form. Suddenly, the massive male was on his paws, careful to not let his shadow hover over the rushing stream, before allowing his paws to slap into the water, his aim towards the shimmering fish true. But light was the most masterful of illusionists, her rays felt inclined to warp and manipulate the very thing that enabled his sight, and it was light that had revealed the fish to his eyes a few inches above their actual position. All they seemed to feel was the graze of water brushing around their scaled forms before they scattered, the water clear from any blood much to his nearly-masked disappointment.
And so, the male leaned back one again, rocking back on his powerful haunches before sitting once again, his shadow disappearing from over the trickling water of the stream and his gaze, once again, flickering back and forth, searching for the fish to return. Minutes passed, minutes filled with silence other than the deceptively peaceful trickle of water, and in a few moments, the fish had returned, wary, but otherwise none the wiser to his typically overbearing presence.
Tagged: Open! Someone help Owl with fishing! He definitely needs all the help he can get!