Post by ˟ PunkWolf on Jun 24, 2010 0:29:25 GMT -5
Open – Aquiel
Grrrr, arrrghhh, snnnnnrrrrggg
Her damned claws kept slipping! The tough, outer shell of the freshwater muscle was scratched all to Hell, scarred with light gray gouges against its dark gray color. The darn thing would be easy to open, should be for her. But just as she could hook the tips of her dull claws into the lip of the opening and pull, they would slide down its wet surface, causing her to grunt, snarl, and throw a string of pup-inappropriate curses into the air. The notion to stick the darn thing in her mouth and just bite down came to her, but she had been scolded from a young age to not do that to things. ’You’re gonna break all those teeth of yours, then we’ll have to look at your goofy face all day!’ her grandfather’s words echoed in her head, allowing her a small amount of comic relief with the memory. But her small moment of relaxation wouldn’t last for long, she was hungry damn it all!
The tan female shook her short pelt, felling perfectly comfortable in the heat of the marsh’s summer. Where others would probably find the heat unbearable, her shorter fur gave her reprieve. Besides, she was practically knee-high in muddy, murky, slimy water, so that helped as well. She quickly placed her meal (hopefully) in her mouth and stood to search for higher grounds.
Her home had been stolen from her and she was forced to move into unfamiliar and potentially dangerous territory. She hadn’t picked the marshland for its pristine-ness, far from it, she hated mosquitoes. The loner female had simply picked it for being the closest to where she was at the time her home was taken over. Plus, she supposed that the diverse environment of a swamp would offer an over-abundance of prey. Unfortunately, while she had been correct about the amount of prey one could encounter, the prey was difficult – at best – to catch. While she had crossed the outskirts, she had spotted a marsh hare, but the chase had ended abruptly with her face in the mud. She wasn’t quite used to the spongy terrain. After she had lost her meal, she had taken to fishing, which also abruptly ended with her sopping wet. Sniffing around a little more, she had come across a patch of freshwater muscles. Easy enough…or so she had thought. She huffed to herself, finding that a gargantuan mangrove tree root provided enough room for her to sit and work at getting the muscle open.
With her great strength, one would think it would be easy enough, but it being too hard to open wasn’t the problem, she simply couldn’t get enough grip upon it to pry it. Frustrated, she flicked it back into the murky waters, giving up entirely. The waters rippled in growing circles beneath the web of roots before calming. She folded her paws, huffed once more, and took to staring at her reflection despite her rumbling stomach. The water wasn’t clear enough for her to see any details of herself, but she traced her outline with her eyes; shaggy black fur shingled upon her back, two sharpened horns in place of ears, small tail twitching idly, long thin snout and long thin legs, piercings through her nose and left brow…the unique female smirked. She loved the way she looked.