Talking Fish Blues
On a sunny day in the West, where the bronze Goddess always felt comfortable, the trees admired their reflections in the water. To the observer they just stretched high into the blue and continued going right down into the green soup. They stood on century duty over the life there, guarding it, keeping it. They were both home and food, essential for the food chain and maintaining the habitat. They were old and their spirits mostly slept, a hundred years or a day was much the same to them. It was in moments like this that the woman in her was able to register the beauty of nature, not only that but admire it. The Gods knew that her life was nothing if not a continous test where she learnt the most valuable lesson of all. You cannot lean on anyone, you must stand on your own legs and that the ones that survive are not the strongest, not even the smartest, but the ones who adapt the fastes to any particular change in their habitat. When she was alone, she was able to take her guard down; something she has not done with anyone other then her closest kin. Her gaze fell upon the lake, still lost in thoughts, below the water surface was a fish: small, barely a dart of silver, yet fast. Without visible effort it moved from plain sight, glimmering in the early morning sun. Now if only she knew how to fish or actully catch anything subacvatic.
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E merald green orbs focused ahead of him and listened intently to the birds that sung their harmonious tune overhead. Everything about this day seemed rather gentle, and brought forth a new light, and even a new life as the brute thought about it. A small sigh escaped his vocals as he stretched his limb, evaluating the limp he'd received some time ago with a look of resentment, however, there was not much the male could do about it now considering he was too focused on finding some food or even possibly meeting a new face as the grass tickled his pads as he walked.
At least spring was here and he didn't have to worry too much about either finding scraps or even getting a meal for himself with the snare that he usually kept with him for personal use. If he was lucky he would get a rabbit, or maybe even a deer with it's leg caught if fortune smiled upon him. But, his eyes happened to catch a lake nearby, so perhaps some fishing might be in order today.
He slowly walked down a small ravine, his eyes catching a sleek form of a reddish-brown wolf that seemed to be admiring the lake. Beautiful decor surrounded her form as his cranium tilted slightly in curiosity. She seemed rather different to some of the wolves he had come across, however, he would not judge her just yet. Besides, first encounters were always the hardest to judge right away as he happened to stand some distance beside her. The woman was evaluating the fish that swam within the water, maybe she was thinking of fishing?
A tone that radiated both a mixture of an irish and scottish accent spoke out to the woman,