leave your mouth talking

Eris Eternity · 04-09-2011, 07:50 AM

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Word Count → 502

The sable-shaded hybrid was not perceptive or sensible enough to recognize a natural skill or talent even when she herself displayed them -- there was much left in the world for the sable-shaded wolf to learn. Catching the fish had simply been the result of good instruction and beginner's luck, nothing more -- she did not even know her mother well enough to realize that perhaps she had watched Kaena fish, long ago on some different, now-burned beach. The coyote's weight settled neatly over the fish's skull, and there was not so much a crack as a squish as the life oozed out of the aquatic creature, some of it leaking in surprisingly red blood onto the rock. For some reason, the hybrid had expected blue or purple, some other exotic creature -- that something so vastly different from herself or any other mammalian prey might bleed the same red blood she did seemed strange.

When the writhing and wriggling beneath her paws ceased, she released her jaws from the fish and looked at Sirius expectantly, finding he was already moving away, his own catch in his mouth. She bent to pick her fish up and moved after him, following his path to the shallow water and leaping into it with a larger splash. She shook herself again daintily as she crested the somewhat steep bank, watching with mild fascination as Sirius shifted, lean and muscled limbs sprouting from the wolfish ones. After a moment she followed suit, changing more slowly than he did. She possessed no talent or speed for shifting -- there seemed to be little sense to her transformation, limbs thickening awkwardly and body parts shifting around before they grew larger or any more humanoid. He spoke, and she nodded her head as best she could through it, the fish left on the ground before her.

“I've had it cooked before,” she said, rolling her now-Optime shoulders in a slow shrug. She did not think it would be so different -- it hadn't occurred to her that it would be so wildly different, and after picking up the small creature and sampling it, she was proven wrong. There was a rubbery and slimy sort of taste to the meat, rather unlike anything she'd tasted before -- certainly less palatable than it was when cooked. Her face wrinkled in distaste, and she shivered a little, setting it back down rather quickly and nearly forcing herself to swallow. Her stomach lurched uncomfortably, and she made a small noise of disgust.

“I don't think I could keep it down if I had to eat all of it,” she admitted, trying not to sniff this statement in any kind of arrogance. It was the truth -- already, her stomach had warned her it would not accept further offerings of raw fish. There was another roll from her stomach and a moment where she was on tenterhooks, waiting to see whether her stomach would decide to hang onto even that small piece of fish.

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