Cerulean Cape Anenthemonae

For @Hati, pardon the length, bear with me as I figure him out <3

Sea birds squawked overhead as the red clad traveler padded along the beach. Seafoam pooled upon the sand as the waves of the cape reached for him as he passed. Light that danced across the cerulean water reflected in his periwinkle gaze. His tail waved back to the water in long sweeps.

Little crabs darted across the sand, drawing his gaze. A pang in his gut reminded him of his lengthy journey. Seafood was always a delight, but did he want the kind that pinched? His head leveled with his chest; lax movements became rigid, focused. Humboldt certainly believed he did.

Locking onto his target, Humboldt rushed forward to the crab clost to him. Wolven fangs versus crustacean claws, his jaws parted to disarm his miniscule opponent. The tiny creature waved its arms in challenge. Humboldt's teeth tightened around one claw, his head jerked to the size to thrash the creature. In moments he would crack it open and—

Youwch!

The crab's free claw clasped upon his nose; the tender cartilage taken hostage by the desperate creature. Unwilling to ultimately release the crab, Humboldt lifted a paw to swat at his face. Oh the consequences for a fool's choices.

Aimless traveller, Hati had found himself along the coastline; a far departure from the comfort of the mountains and glades her hailed from; yet to a degree, this salt-touched breeze was refreshing, and the view wasn't half-bad, as stained as his being here was to begin with. He dismissed it, yet secretly admired the serenity of the landscape, peaceful... silent... calm—

YOUWCH!

Somebody was having a bad day. Sharpened ears perked the way of the startled yowl and the shadowed man would rise to investigate. He brushed a burr off his white chin and carried on out of the coastal brush and onto the flooded rocky plateau to see another splashing about the tide pools, reeling and brushing at his nose whilst a guilty-looking crab shimmied away and slipped beneath the waters surface once more. 

This other held a similar figure to his own, albeit, far less refined and perfected than Hati's, but his sort of beauty was a standard seldom reached, he could excuse it.

Trekking across the watery plateau, he'd tilt his head and allow a low, smooth tone to fall from his jaws once he was close enough to be heard. I don't believe you're meant to catch them by the claw. He'd critique with the gentlest of raised brows and scruitinizing looks, as if he did indeed know anything about hunting crabs.

Humboldt had his paw firmly pressed against his nose, rubbing the away the pain, when a voice sounded from behind him. Oh! Someone else happened by. The waves must of been too loud against the rocks to hear them. Humboldt held his paw beneath his face and studied it before addressing the stranger. A single drop of crimson was smeared across his pad. He shook his paw before dropping it. His tongue swiped over his nose.

Nah, you grab they're lil flipper leg and pin 'em first. Humboldt gifted his new acquaintance a beaming, mischievous smile. But it's a lot of fun if you're faster than the crab.

Unabashed, Humboldt trotted over the rocky shores to the dark cloaked stranger. Periwinkle eyes bright and tail sweeping behind him. Closer now, he studied the man. Emboldened, he queried the man, not at all hiding the teenage call to action: a dare. You fancy yourself a crab catcher?

Humboldt was close enough now to spy the scare situated across his throat. In a split second, the mischievous glitter in his eyes softened with sympathy, only to brighten with an earnest curiosity. Humboldt bounced a stride away, his chest dropped into a play bow. They could swap tales of woe later, after filling their bellies full of crab meat.

I fancy myself above catching crabs. Hati would return with a scoff and the idlest raise of his white chin. 

But really, what good did it do him to cling to a station he was long removed from?

..But... you seem like you could use the help. He'd drawl out with an air of scrutiny, and raise one white-toed paw from the water, casting a brief glance to be certain this tidepool had not dirtied his precious feet. 

He helped because he could, because the boy so clearly needed the guidance of someone apt and skilled, and certainly not because the challenge had been placed before him. He didn't know what had called him out here, what had spurred him to approach the crab-hunter, be it misplaced curiosity, or reckless abandon of everything that he was once made of, he was here, hunting crabs, because the alternative was to dwell on festering hatred and boyish jealousy. 

Truth be told, he was not above anything, not anymore. 

but how hard could hunting a crab be, afterall? He would approach one of those watery nooks, and disturb a crab into taking up arms against him. Valiant little beast, it flared its pinchers at its much larger opponent, and Hati would make the mistake of slamming a paw down unto it, intent on pinning and then tearing the claws from its body; he would not get quite so far, as the crabs claw would pinch onto one of his toes as he held it to the ground, causing him to flail back in a graceless dance, caterwhauling back into the shallow waters and coating his pristine black fur in a blanket of saltwater, the crab still attached despite it all. 

In his panic, he had been lucky enough to smash the crab off of a rock, not only stunning it, but at last freeing his poor white toes from its herculean grip. He spat out seawater and delivered a finishing bite to the crab's shell, crushing it. 

His fur was ruffled and soaked, and a miserable expression had found its way onto his features. 

Not a word. His ichorous gaze said loud and clear.

Humboldt's brows raised at the dark cloaked boy. So high and mighty did the young man speak, Humboldt doubted that he would lower himself into the tide pools. How fast did the cinnamon boy's tail wag when the stranger relented, humoring his challenge. Humboldt didn't even roll his eyes at the mention of needing help. Unphazed by the other boy's overabundance of pride.

Humboldt watched from the rocks. Eager to see Hati rise to his challenge. Hair rising along his spine as he watched the other. Humboldt paced back and forced, invested.

The crab squared off with the black furred wolf! Fast was Hati's strike against it! Yes! Yes! Now for the final blow—

Oh. Uh oh.

Humboldt bounded across the pool and approached where Hati sputtered water. The crustacean champion shortly dethroned there after.

Not a word. Unspoken by the tongue, but screamed by those eyes of liquid gold.

Humboldt clamped his jaws together. Nonetheless he just could not contain his amusement. Mirth rose in his throat in a barely contained laugh. Delight spilled out the corners of his mouth as they lifted into a smile.

Oh he just couldn't help himself.

Humboldt reached out a paw, scoring one single line into the sand.

Well you have one more crab than me. I think I need to speed up the game then, hm?

Humboldt beamed a smile to Hati before bounding back up the rocks.

When ridicule did not come from the one ahead of him, Hati himself would take up the mantle. How sickeningly happy the boy looked. Making it worse, they seemed close in age. 

He had only known rivals. Competitors. Second sons seemed to have that complex.

Hati had always been hateful. It was the essence of him. Here he was, splashing about tide pools like nothing had ever gone wrong in his life. Was it jealousy? How could he be kind to him, offer the courtesy of shaking off the embarrassment that metaphorically and physically soaked him to the bone. A taunt would've been better. Hati didn't know what he wanted. He probably would've been angry at any response regardless. He was angry that he was here in the first place.

Misdirected.

A deep breath followed, that pristine face would not sully itself further with childish retorts or angry snarls. The night-drawn man resumed his posture and kept his tone so viciously calm, as if it never teetered towards , and walked over to offer the first crab. ..Be glad anybody's helping you at all. You know, you could hunt things of better quality, rather than risk these.... dangerous things. He'd remark with a raise of his brows. The prince was used to lamb, goat, bison during celebrations. Were there seriously those out there so deprived? 

At least the seafood did not bleed. but it could still make him bleed.. A problem either way, yet miserably, he had to do his own hunting out here. He was lucky to have been around for a feast before his estrangement, and here, catching crabs before hunger could start to taint his figure. Strength had never been his strongest attribute, so as prickly as these stupid little freak-legged things were, they were certainly less of a trial than a deer or an elk. Suppose the taste would have to be worth the fight. 

..I'm catching my own from here on. He turns back to the tidepool and eyes the retreating crabs. The gentle crash of waves sweeping some of them to and fro. Seabirds filled the air with their wailing and the wind off the water was cold and brisk, and salty, unlike the fresh, sharp air of the mountains. 

This was no place for him, echoed the harshest of voices, stifled by the sounds of the coast. Simple things mattered now. Food, allies, shelter. 

How far he had fallen. He was disgusted.