All These Nights on Luckie St
09-30-2013, 12:22 PM
Roughly a week had passed since his spar with the strangely coated wolf in the north. By now his leg was much better, and he could put pressure on it and walk more or less normally, save for a barely noticeable limp. Hopefully in a couple more days the remainder of the pain would wear off and he would no longer be hindered. His face wounds had healed nicely, no scarring evident on his cheek, though the fur hadn't quite grown back in full yet. He walked along the dark river bank quietly, listening to it roar and crash over rocks with a serene expression. The white water ended further upstream, where he he hoped to find fish to catch. Running was still a little difficult, so more or less stationary hunting techniques were still preferable. He really needed to start stretching more and get his leg functioning properly again. Favoring it like he was, wasn't doing him any real good. He had spent a few days in Fontamo Bay, and had since made the trip here, the long walk doing him some good to get the muscles working again and rid him of the restlessness that had plagued him in his time here. The water had changed from roiling whitecaps to smooth curves of navy. Beneath its glassy surface an array of fish swam, making idly following the current and generally free to swim where they pleased, the tug of the current gentle here. So he waded a few steps in, feeling it gently massage his legs, the resistance of the water feeling inexplicably nice as he walked. The fish in his immediate area darted away as he made his way to a boulder that barely jutted out from the surface. He waited patiently for perhaps twenty minutes or more, enough time for the fish to recover from their scare and accept his presence as non-threatening. In that time he occupied himself with thoughts of his next plan of action. He didn't know where to go from here, but intended to linger in the south. With winter coming, being alone would be dangerous, and the temperatures here were sure to be much less frightful here, and food more plentiful, at least he hoped. When the fish were in range again Alta?r stood and scanned the moonlit schools, selecting his target. As a nice sized fish drifted closer, the custard male readied his paw to strike. Closer it came, and when it was in range, he struck, his paw slapping the fish onto shore. It flopped dangerously closer to the edge, and Alta?r acted quickly, leaping off the rock toward the shore and ignoring to the best of his abilities the pain that shot up his leg. Just as it hit the water, his fangs closed around its tail, barely holding on as it flopped wildly between his teeth. Scrambling higher on the bank, Alta?r sat heavily, feeling the tingle of adrenaline race through his system. Well. Thank the stars for that, at least. Siding to his belly, Alta grunted and situated the fish between his forepaws, digging in to his hard earned meal. |