too slow, gotta go

hunting. okay, so maybe they’d technically never, like…done it before, but how hard could it be, really? after all, people hunted allll the tiiiime – and some people were really stupid. Araneae wasn’t stupid. they were actually pretty sure they were quite smart for their age, so…there! anyway, now that they’d established that, it was time to hunt!

keeping themselves low to the ground (see! They knew things!) Araneae stalks through the undergrowth, eyes peeled for any sign of life. If a mouse so much as twitched, they’d hear it! speaking of mice…Araneae’s stomach gives an insistent growl, a reminder that they hadn’t eaten for the past handful of hours. they could’ve, of course, but they’d had their heart set on catching their own lunch. imagine how great vole must taste when it was caught by your own two paws? imagine gifting a rabbit to the adult who-kind-of-sort-of saved your butt when your birth mother abandoned you? weirdly specific, maybe, but alas the point remained: they wanted to impress. and to do that, they needed to actually catch something. which would probably prove tricky, given how pesky forest critters could be; there could a whole hoard of mice just underneath their feet, sqawks away happily without a care in the world while Araneae laboured away looking for them! they’d have to be sneaky, and smart, and most of all…perceptive. it might take hours – perhaps, though the thought was a daunting one, days – but they’d find something eventually, and then there wouldn’t be any power on earth that could stop them from –

hey, hold on!

Araneae comes to a halt so abrupt it kicks up a cloud of dust in their wake. their mouth falls open, lips pursing into a little moue of surprise. huh??? there, by the roots of a nearby tree, is a shrew. Araneae squints, wondering, vaguely, if they’ve begun to hallucinate…but no, there they are, just hanging out in the middle of the forest in broad fucking (That Woman always said never to use that word, but she wasn’t here anymore, so fuck her) daylight. for a moment, they’re slightly disappointed – it would’ve been fun to actually stalk their prey like a real hunter – but that disappointment quickly gives way to delight. prey has just sauntered right into their waiting palm; it’s practically comical, really! maybe I’m a better tracker than I thought, Araneae muses, practically puffing up with pride. stepping lightly, Araneae begins to slink through the undergrowth once more, keeping their tail low enough not to be poking up, but high enough not to drag on the ground and alert the creatures to their eminent doom. watch out; the mightiest hunter in all of the Armada is on the prowl! as Araneae edges closer, they’re overtaken with daydreams of their success: sitting atop a pile of seagull while Wylan looks on in awe, smirking at Kyanite as they drag a huge stag home, grinning as Bas and Hazel exclaim over the talent and ease of their kills.

in fact, they’re so lost in thought that they don’t register the twig in their path – nor do they realise they’ve snapped it under paw until a panicked squawk rents the air, and the shrew suddenly turns their tiny little head to stare at Araneae in frozen alarm. ah, shit. moments later, the shrew scatters throughout the forest. gritting their teeth in frustration, Araneae dives after one, following the scent trail as they charge through the forest. their steps are loud and heavy, crashing through the forest with all the grace of a stag on a rampage. no longer bothering to remain quiet, they’re heedless of the prey they could be disturbing, so single-minded in their pursuit that they actually step on a thorn and waste a few precious seconds hopping around with a pained yelp. still, once the thorn has been successfully dispatched, Araneae sprints off again, catching a flash ofbrown fur as the targeted shrew ducks behind a tree trunk. victory surges in Araneae’s throat like cool water on a hot day, filling them with joy; they practically had the little bugger cornered!

but as Araneae skids around the tree trunk, their paw catches on a dead leaf, and they let out a cry of alarm as they go sprawling to the ground. it happens so quickly that Araneae is momentarily dazed, blinking up at the sky as the world comes back into focus around them. when it does, humiliation creeps into their face, heating their pelt and leaving them extremely grateful that no one was around to witness that. distantly, they can hear a shrill squeak – and Araneae groans when they realise it to likely be the very shrew they’d been trying to catch, giggling at the clumsy hunter.

perhaps…perhaps hunting was harder than they’d thought.

"Speech"