AESIOR OPHELES
✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go
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grateful was the allowance to slide past the injury he bore as an internal mark of shame. the attack that had left him mute years ago had done more than surface damage, but he'd been able to take a small revenge on the brute that took his voice, like he'd taken many things from him. giving an exhale to clear the angry memories and thoughts wrapped around the bastard that had done it, he would re-focus his mind on the present. he was fishing. he liked fishing. he was good at fishing. relaxing and his ears resting at a neutral point, he would check to make sure he still held the pale-furred tom's attention. not that he was eager for attention, gods no, but he wanted to show his means.
he would laugh if he could at his words, saying that he was full of surprises. attempting to flash a coy smile around the stick held now within his jaws, he would wade back into the waters, tail resting still in the air, a proud point over his spine, away from the jaws of any hungry fish. he would wait quietly, ears twitching at every minute sound, eyes finding a vole upon grasses not far away from where they stood. blinking, he would return his gaze to the calm water around him, involuntary the shudder at paws sinking deep into mud. holding himself still, he would wait and wait, waiting for the faintest disturbance of water, of a fish passing by his legs. quick came the strike, little time to tell where the muscles tensed and when the order to fire was given. abrupt and swift the splash of water around slender shaft of stick. rearing his head back, heavy weight of struggling fish upon the other end nearly causing him to lose his grip.
rotation of weight upon hindlegs closer to shore, he would turn his body back with stick in tow, to drop it against the shore and swiftly end the fish's life. gazing it over, he would narrow his eyes slightly. small, but it would do, they always did - he merely felt some regret for ending a young fish's life. shaking his head to free the scales from his chin fur, he lifted his head to vincent and motioned towards the stick he'd used. a silent offer to teach the other the strange way of fishing.
he would laugh if he could at his words, saying that he was full of surprises. attempting to flash a coy smile around the stick held now within his jaws, he would wade back into the waters, tail resting still in the air, a proud point over his spine, away from the jaws of any hungry fish. he would wait quietly, ears twitching at every minute sound, eyes finding a vole upon grasses not far away from where they stood. blinking, he would return his gaze to the calm water around him, involuntary the shudder at paws sinking deep into mud. holding himself still, he would wait and wait, waiting for the faintest disturbance of water, of a fish passing by his legs. quick came the strike, little time to tell where the muscles tensed and when the order to fire was given. abrupt and swift the splash of water around slender shaft of stick. rearing his head back, heavy weight of struggling fish upon the other end nearly causing him to lose his grip.
rotation of weight upon hindlegs closer to shore, he would turn his body back with stick in tow, to drop it against the shore and swiftly end the fish's life. gazing it over, he would narrow his eyes slightly. small, but it would do, they always did - he merely felt some regret for ending a young fish's life. shaking his head to free the scales from his chin fur, he lifted his head to vincent and motioned towards the stick he'd used. a silent offer to teach the other the strange way of fishing.
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