The Animal in Us

[Cassandra Southwind]

Spring 3, 513 Rainbow Falls Cassandra sat at one of the benches, wearing only a coat. Her shoes were boots but her hands were bare; her loose hair was doing a poor job of warming her ears, what with the way it tossed in the cold breeze. By the nature of their usual migrations, the Southwinds were most accustomed to moderate and warm temperatures. Their visit to a city as northward as Lhavit was an anomaly and a novelty. Cassandra herself had proposed it, arguing that it would be the safest place to settle for Winter. Her family had acquiesced because she had most recently come of age, and her choice did not disappoint. But while she could not deny the attraction of the stories told about the so-called Diamond of Kalea, tales of its beauty and exotic sophistication, what had inspired her most was not the city itself. It was the fish. Sartu Rainbow Trout were almost legendary in her fishers' circles, if only because they were so unique and distant from usual Svefra haunts. In reality they were not much different than other migrating river fish, at least from what the Lhavitian fishermen had described. But it had been a long time since Cassandra had fished with anything but a net in anything but the open ocean. She craved a change of scenery, however futile the activity itself might be. And a change it was. Instead of the crowded port or the free chaos of the ocean, the Rainbow Falls babbled through the little park like control, embodying the order she had come to love about the city of Lhavit. The earth was still damp from the showers a few days back, but Syna was shining high in the hours before morning. It was rare when Cass Southwind could call a thing Pleasant. In her bare, enflamed hand she held a little piece of soft copper; in the other she held a piece of hard steel. They chimed against each other as she tried to flatten out the former, hardly a whisper in the pervading noise of the Falls. They had told her that the Trout entered a torpor state in wintertime: not quite hibernation, but a low energy solution to the problem of cold waters. She would need to make a spoon lure, a flashy thing that could wake them and entice them. Her family despised spoons, said they were a lazy man's lure because they caught the eye of any old thing, but their use could not be helped when the fish itself was too lazy to be bothered with much else. It was done in a matter of minutes, tied with a red fiber from her blanket back home for a bit of added flair. Eagerly she gathered her things and dodged puddles to the riverbed. There she fastened it to the line and, considering the curved current of the pool before here, cast it into the water.

[Tessa Bane]

Spring 3rd, 514

The early days of spring might as well not existed, as they were just as cold as winter anyways. Despite the freezing winds, Tessa decided to take the day off and go out to hunt anyways, just for the fun of it. That day, she had decided to bring her trusty rucksack, fitted to her inhuman waist, and venture out in her feline form to the famous fishing spot, Rainbow Falls.

It was a nice change of scenery, trading the just-budding forests for frozen rivers, and although she had become averted to water since she fell in a frozen pond one unlucky day of winter, Tessa decided to try her hand at fishing.

Not with a pole and lure, of course, but with her own two claws and sharp teeth, bobcat style. In order to get to the much-talked-about fishing spot, Tessa had taken quite the hike, the place was over a mile from the city gates, and the trip had taken a good part of the morning. Then again, it was worth it.

The river seemed to have forgotten the season change, as it was still glistening with just the tiniest bit of ice on the riverbanks, with snow still lying on the edges of the water source. As she approached the river, Tessa took a moment to appreciate the shiny fish that lazily swam along just under the surface of the water. Rainbow Trout, or something along those lines, they were called.

A scale of one of the trouts caught the bobcat girl’s eye, they flashed an array of colors when they hit the early spring light, yes, that was the fish she wanted to catch. It looked simply spectacular in the sunlight, gleaming and sparkling, as if taunting the cat to snatch it up and eat it raw. And yes, that was exactly what Tessa intended to do.

Stalking over to the riverbank, Tessa crouched low to the ground, using quite a bit of effort to slip off her rucksack incase jumping in the water was required, As the falls nearby roared, the Kelvic pounced onto the fish, unfortunately causing quite the splash and narrowly missing the slimy prey as it barely slipped away, suddenly aware that its life was in danger.

Growling as the water splashed against her furred ankles, Tessa returned to the bank and rolled around in the dry grass, somehow effectively drying herself off. She repeated this process again and again until finally, a fish was within her grasp, trapped in the sharp cage of her teeth. Finally, success!

It was only as she began crawling back to dry land did Tessa notice that someone else was hunting the iridescent fish, a human girl, it would seem. Strange, for the first time Tessa noticed that there were actually benches and picnic tables lining the falls, seemingly for fishermen who wished to rest after a successful catch, though Tessa still preferred to simply stalk and attack her prey. Then again, she wasn't a fisherman, she was a cat, and cats didn't use a pole to fish.

Laying the still-flopping fish aside for a moment to slip on her knapsack once again, Tessa took her prized fish and bag over to where the woman was sitting, hoping to impress her with the catch. A cat, a better fisherman than poll and lure! She had to be impressed, would she not?

Tessa shook the stray water droplets from her fur, the sun shining down on the melting ice and snow helped hurry the process of drying, which the bobcat much appreciated. She then sat herself down right next to the woman, ready to pounce on the next fish that swam by, almost issuing a competition for who could catch the most first.

[Cassandra Southwind]

A few long minutes passed in which nothing bit or stirred, but Cassandra was certainly not bored with them. The wait was relaxing, soothing even, and a welcome break from the constant activity at the shore. She loved her family and her boat, but between the net fishing and the fish flaying and the market selling and the nightly revelries, there was little time for moments like this. It felt more than nice to simply stare at the flow of the current. Her bobbing line followed a rhythm that was just inconstant enough to stimulate her lazy mind.

Because what was really so bad about lazy? If it was only every once in a while, Cassandra could not blame herself for taking this time to be it.

She watched the spoon lure flicker and dance beneath the water--or was that the telltale shine of a trout? Cass focused in on it, trying to determine whether she should prepare for a tug. But before she could, a different glimpse flashed at her periphery. She turned quickly toward the cat, pupils flaring in surprise. It was all she could do not to step reflexively away, instead staring curiously at the creature, its catch, and the strange contraption belted around its middle.

It was looking up at her, almost expectantly. A long moment of hesitation passed before Cassandra opened her mouth. "Thank you," was her tentative reply.

Her confusion manifested as a frown on her pressed lips and creased brow. Cats were not incredibly familiar to the Svefra girl, whose limited experience with them included a good scratching after trying to save one from drowning at a dock. For most of her childhood she had thought them to be just another breed of rat. But this one was much bigger than any of those, and itseemed friendly enough. Anyway, Cass had to respect any animal that knew its way around a fish. The catch was the best way to worship Laviku, after all.

And still she could not completely shrug that nagging pinprick of guilt which pressed on the back of her mind. She should be down at the ocean, helping her family with the nets, not lounging here with a four-legged land-thing.

Cassandra was not given much time to contemplate her guilt. She felt a tug at the line, and her attention was drawn immediately to the river. The second tug confirmed that something had caught. Gasping, the fisherman held tight at her grip and reel and began to wind back. She pulled eagerly at the thrashing trout before she remembered to let it slack occasionally, balancing every stroke with a lull as the fish struggled against her. It was almost like a dance, the give and take, the step forward and the step back. But every move brought her prize closer until finally she pulled it, flailing, from the water.

The trout was about the same size, if not a hair bigger, than the one which had been laid at her feet. Cassandra let it dangle and thrash above the cat for a few ticks, wondering if it was true what they said about feline playfulness, then finally swung it close and caught it. Then she pulled it from the hook, laying down her rod, and removed the knife from her belt. With a short stroke at the gills, the trout's spine was severed.

She set her prey flat beside the cat's offering and met its smoky green eyes. "How do you like that?" She said candidly, almost playfully. She did not expect a reply.