were all just scars in the making
Word Count → 534
Vesper picked her way carefully up the well-worn mountain trail, her ears set back with determination as her eyes picked out too-steep areas on the path. Despite the difficulty she had with it, she walked on two legs, and she did not stop to shift even after losing her footing for the umpteenth time. Instead, she crouched quickly to brace herself, panting quietly, and lifted herself back up again to keep walking, her lean body slanted slightly toward the mountain.
She found that she learned and practiced best with pressure, when she was forced to perfect something at the risk of injury or even death. After all, she had learned relatively quickly the basics of fighting in optime when pretending that her trainer was going to kill her—and even before that, in the weeks after the injury to her hind paw, she had learned how to keep balance and be swift. Even now, a severe misstep in her ungainly two-legged form would send her careening down the mountain or at least with a sprained ankle. It might have been stupid to take risks like that, but she’d only stumbled near the base, and as the path elevated, steep and somewhat treacherous, she had gotten the hang of it enough to not die.
This was the quickest way for her to learn how to deal with this shape and, damn it, Vesper wanted to learn.
She did allow herself a rest, however, when she heard the trickle of a mountain stream in the vicinity. Still breathing heavily, she picked her way along the rocks and twigs in her path and crouched at the water’s edge, cupping the cold and clear liquid in her hands then bringing it to her lips to lap. Her thirst quenched, she lifted her head at the sound of feathers rustling.
A spruce grouse sat in a tree above the stream, out of reach for a non-luperci but not for the young woman now. It was very still, though she could sense that it was aware of her presence. It was relatively easy to catch one of the things once you could find them, but their camouflage made hiding the better option. She licked her lips and walked as casually as she could to the tree, leaning against it like usual, judging the distance between the crook it was snuggled into and her own height. If she lifted her arms and gave a little hop…
Vesper jumped quickly, one clawed hand grasping hard at the branch while her other swiped at the bird. Its wings flailed, but she had hooked it and it tumbled—along with Ves and the branch, which hadn’t been able to support her way. With a loud crack, it landed on the ground, and Vesper yelped. She managed to land on her feet and immediately jumped for the grouse, grabbing it awkwardly in her hands then bringing it to her jaws with a sharp bite. Twisting its neck with her teeth, she dropped it back into her hands.
And grinned…once she realized she could pull off its feathers, rather than get a mouthful of plumage when she took a bite. This luperci thing kept surprising her.
Vesper Optime by Nat; table code from the Mentors!
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