No stopping you

The sun hung high in the sky, casting its golden light over the mangrove-lined bay, where the salty sea mingled with the fresh water from inland rivers. In this quiet haven, away from the prying eyes of her... many, many siblings, Mochi prowled. All too long legs and ears she hadn't quite grown into yet, her eyes a piercing pink that missed nothing in her surroundings, despite the squint she wore against the setting sun.

Prideful and reserved, Mochi had spent the last few seasons as an observer rather than a participant. The other wolves in her pack had long completed their first hunts, returning with tales of their prowess and trophies to show. But Mochi had remained on the sidelines, waiting for her moment. Today, she had ventured out alone, driven by an insistent hunger and the desire to prove herself.

Even at this late hour, the bay was teeming with life. Birds called from the treetops, and fish darted through the clear waters below. But Mochi's attention was fixed on a different prize. Manatees often frequented these waters, and she had seen them many times, lumbering and slow, grazing on the seagrass beds. She knew she didn't have what it would take to haul one of those in, but today, her sights were set instead on the salmon making their way upstream to spawn. She intended to bring one down (as monstrous as some of the larger fish appeared).

Mochi waded through the shallows, her steps silent and deliberate. The water barely reached her ankles, warm and welcoming, as she cast about for any sign of her prey. Her nostrils flared as she caught the faint scent of a salmon nearby, ears turning to the telltale splash as they coursed through the shallower sections of the bay. Following her ears and nose, she moved deeper into the territory, her eyes scanning the water's surface for any disturbance.

There, a few meters ahead, she saw it: the finned back of a salmon breaking the water's surface as it pushed towards a smaller tributary. Mochi's heart raced. She crouched low, muscles tensed, her mind focused entirely on the task at hand. The salmon was oblivious to her presence, its body catching between some shallow rocks, making it move more slowly through the water.

With a burst of speed, Mochi lunged. Her jaws clamped down on the salmon's thick, scaled hide, and for a moment, she was locked in a fierce struggle. The salmon thrashed, trying to dislodge her, but Mochi held on, her teeth sinking deeper. She could feel the powerful muscles of the creature straining against her, but she was relentless.

The water churned around them, and Mochi's world shrank to the sensation of her teeth in the salmon's flesh and the taste of muddy estuarine water on her tongue. Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity. Finally, the fish's struggles weakened, and with a final flap, tail fin to the side of her face, it seemed to still.

Dragging her sodden body to the shore, Mochi released her grip, panting heavily as she stood protectively over her prize. She had done it. Her first successful hunt. The weight of her achievement settled over her, and she felt a swell of pride. This was her victory. Quietly, she was pleased there was nobody here to witness it, the pressure of an audience might have been her undoing.

Exhausted but elated, Mochi began the task of dragging her kill back to the hut Kuroo had on the beach for drying fish. It was a slow process, the salmon's bulk making it difficult, but she persevered. Her muscles ached, but each step was a reminder of her success.

Birds had resumed their songs, and fish swam unperturbed. Life continued, indifferent to her personal victory, yet she felt a deep connection to this place. She shook herself, scoffing at her sudden turn of sentimentality. She set about preparing the fish to cure, she'd seed Kuroo do it more than enough times that she was sure she could do it in her sleep. She used a sharp stone to scrape off the scales, took a blade and cleaned out the guts, discarding them down on the waters edge for the seagulls and barracuda to squabble over. Boning the fish took more effort than she cared to admit, and chances were she missed a few, but they would live with it.

She put the sliced fish into a brine bucket, sighing at the knowledge it would take several hours before she could string the fish up to dry. She checked the other barrel and found some that looked like they were done, white and flakey looking, hake? With a shrug she pulled the other fish out and strung it up to dry, checking the fish for doneness further away from those she had hung. The work of a hunter was never really done with so many mouths to feed. Judging several other servings to be done, she took them down and used banana leaves to wrap them, placing them securely in a reed woven basket to be taken home for her mother to prepare for dinner tonight. She would come back later to finish off her salmon. She wanted to see it the whole way through.

"speech"