(479)
Eris is by James!
The water around her was choppy and roiling with the fish trapped there. Her legs were battered by their tails and bumped by their bodies -- it was as if she stood in living, alive water. The hybrid snagged the biggest fish she could find, leaving the smaller ones, and heaved them over to Molcaxitl. When the dark woman felt their amount was suitable, she moved out of the fishy water and into the creek, moving behind the netting. When she reached the other side, she pulled down the net and walked it back across the river, much to the relief of the fish trapped between the net and the weir. They rushed upriver quickly, for the current was not so great as to cause them any great hindrance. The dark woman grinned as she rolled the netting about the pole, looking up to the bank as she did so. Ezequiel's greeting reached her ears, and the woman grinned toward him.
Hello, dearest Ezequiel, she said. Though he was new to Salsola, he had earned the right of Family by virtue of mateship -- certain treatment toward him was expected of her. The dark coyote was not so foolish as to blindly trust, however, and she did not exclude the idea of betrayal from her mind. It weighed there heavily, as it tended to, and the dark woman could not relinquish her paranoia. Such was the price of leadership, she supposed -- there was always someone lurking just around the corner, waiting to steal her pack's power or her own position away. She needed to guard it fiercely, but part of that was establishing trust with her membership, she knew -- perhaps not in quite so concrete a way, but the sable-furred coyote did at least understand her own power was partially derived from the approval of her people.
Yes, she answered, shaving herself off. The bank was not very steep here, and the hybrid clambered up easily, standing beside Ezequiel to look at Molcaxitl. The slave woman was trying to carry several fish up the bank, and Eris made a face as she dropped one. The idea of the weir was not her own, nor the labors that had gone into it -- most of it, anyway -- but it was her project, all the same. Salsola will always have a supply of fish, she explained, grinning. It works well.
Molcaxitl put down the fish she'd carried up and started back down the bank for the next batch. There were not so many it would require more than one other trip, but it was quite the start -- especially considering the fugitive fish that had darked back up the creek for the safety of its upper reaches. How are you doing? she inquired, curious to know what had transpired before Ezequiel since his acceptance to the pack. Your mateship, your sister?
@import url('http://sleepyglow.net/rp/post.css');
</style>[/html]