Cerulean Cape In Nobody's Eyes, but Mine

AW! Vague based on active threads, hehe
Location: Eastern end of Cerulean Cape.
Time: Sunset.

He couldn’t stay away.

The ocean beckoned him back after they had parted ways weeks before. The days were shorter now, as he arrived the sun was beginning to be drowned by the endless waves churning in the distance. It bled out into the sky, leaking bright streaks of reds and yellows into the horizon. Tahoe strode out onto the sand and took in the sight. The sea had such a foreign, yet familiar quality to it. Having grown up next to a lake of great size was comparable to it in a way, but ever so different. Nonetheless, it reminded him of home. Unlike lakes, the sea was pungent. The odor was strikingly salty, something which ceased to bother him nowadays. He was beginning to grow used to it. There was still much to learn about the seascape.

McBride’s gaze fell away from the sunset. He peered around, briefly studying the immediate area. Various pieces of vegetation were strewn upon the shore, ranging from seaweed and pebbles, to driftwood and fragments of seashells. A clump of the green stuff caught his eye, tangled up with something else. The something else was a stark contrast to the green, red in color, other fragments haphazardly discarded nearby. A shell of some sort, perhaps. The man briskly ambled over for a better look. He nosed the messy heap, using his paw to aid in revealing the item. Close to what he predicted, it was a shell, but indicated by the smell, the skeleton of a formerly living thing. The subject gave him a fair deal of confusion. He had never seen such a creature, even more confused by the fact that the flesh clung to the inside of the skeleton rather than out. It resembled a spider. A big, red spider of the depths. What he assumed were the legs of the spider were scattered around. The meat had already been ripped out, the gulls must’ve ravaged the carcass awhile ago. If the gulls found the bizarre sea creature edible, it was worth a try. Tahoe had gone a few days without a meal, he knew the hunger pangs would only get stronger. Seafood was worth a try, why not? Abandoning the shell, he sought a smaller piece to sample—a leg would suffice. He settled on a small one tossed nearby. With hesitation, he plunked his underbelly to the sand and scooped the unusual leg in his jaws, using his forepaws to hold it steady as he gnawed.

Vanity drifted from the clutches of the island.
She didn't like it much there.
Closed in, cold, and it seemed they had to run away from stuff just happening which could kill them.
So that wasn't her muse as of late. Though the mountain ranges where exhilarating, the birds that hosted them were less so.

So the battered warlord returned to the mainland for a short spell, hoping to find a good forest to roll in.
But then a memory stuck her. Valkyr.
Up ahead was the splay of grasses with rocky outcrops and the unforgiving, life snatching drop into the ocean below where she'd found her travel partner again.
And lost her. again.
Imagine of she'd found her.
But no. Not today.

Rather she found a Tahoe tentatively tucking into some sort of sea critter she vaguely remembered to be called a crab. Or so the thinks, she wasn't close enough yet.
The woman chuffed softly, hoping to catch this other shore-wanderer's attention before she spooked him.

Thank you so much for the kudos!! <33

Tahoe swiped his tongue over his muzzle. The taste of the sea-spider's leg was subdued by decay, but nonetheless, remarkably salty. Out of boredom, he decided to continue chewing away at it. Perhaps he'd go hunting for a living one. The sea seemed to be teeming with life of all species, and if he was unable to find a sea-spider along the coast, there would always be something else to investigate. Worst case scenario, he could travel back inland and snag larger quarry. The topic of sea-life made him recall the time in his youth, where he'd taken up a liking to fishing. The ocean was bound to have thousands of fish, but fishing in such deep waters seemed much more difficult compared to a stream. He pondered about putting the old skill to use, or using the knowledge to learn a new one.

His planning was put to an immediate pause as he heard the noise of another. The sound only made him flick an ear, unbothered. Hello. He woofed in response, only turning to gaze at the stranger after the fact. From this distance they resembled merely a shadow, only the sudden splashes of white upon their elegant visage broke up the blackness. His golden eyes remained fixed upon the figure as he awaited a reaction.

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't reply.
Like she'd just go ignored.
But no, he did reply and acknowledge her.

She drifted closer, inspecting him closer. He looked plain. Average. She wondered what to expect from him -- the average ones were the ones with the most devious plots.
Her tail swayed softly in greeting, "Hola," she replied.
She gave him a few seconds so she could gauge his reaction.
"You catch the crab yourself?" She asked in the common tongue he greeted her in.
Perhaps she could learn a new technique for the critters.

Yellow eyes focused on the shadow as they neared. Their reply sounded like a hello, but mispronounced, or simply in another dialect. Her voice—feminine—was easily carried above the waves. She wagged her tail gently, a sign she intended no harm. Tahoe rose to his feet and gave his ruddy pelt a brief shake before turning to face her, sending specks of sand flying. She went on to mention his mangled remains of a meal. Crab she'd called it, an odd name for an odd creature. He assumed she must be a local, since her knowledge on the resident fauna was so proficient. 

Gulls did the work for me. He answered with a scoff. How does one go 'bout catchin' these things?

She chuckled softly.
Yeah, she could see it now. The remains left bu the gulls strewn on the beach and the curious scavenger picked up the pieces.

"With great care," she chuckled again.
She didn't know if he'd seen the pincers on these things, but some could be ferocious, she's found.
She thought back to how that stranger on the beach taught her. She couldn't remember his name, only that she essentially overloaded his poor mind.
"I call them Pequeño diablo​. Meaning little devil." 
She inclined her head. She needed a live example to show him.
"Come, let's find living one." They often hid in the sand about the rock pools or stagnant seawater.

Ah, a handy puddle. Vanity wandered into such puddle of seawater looking for a critter.
"Here," she invited him closer. "See it's little head just there, hiding." She smirked.
"We need a rock," she explained, looking around for one big enough for the job.

His comment got a chortle out of her. As indicated by her answer, crabs didn't seem to be easy pickings. If they behaved anything like spiders—their miniscule insect doppelgängers—they must be reclusive. From what he had learned by experience, they had a tough exterior too. The animals were so peculiar, it wouldn't surprise him if somehow they could bite. Little did he know, one of those dismembered legs was not a leg, but instead, one of two tiny pincers—natural weapons which crabs used to their advantage. A bird's hard beak would be useful for the task of attacking one, no wonder the gang of seagulls had more luck than he. 

Lil' devil. A fittin' nickname. He mused in response, thoroughly intrigued by her speech—the interjected part which belonged to a language foreign to him. Perhaps he'd inquire about it soon. Without missing a beat, she invited him to join in on a hunting demonstration. He hadn't expected her to be so motivated, it was a good surprise and change of pace. McBride gave a nod, then unhurriedly followed her lead. A pool of water abandoned by the tide captivated her attention, and without hesitancy, she stepped in. Only when prompted did he finally get his paws wet. He peered into the cloudy waters, vaguely identifying the half-concealed crab which she indicated, whose shell peeked out from within the sandy puddle-bottom. I see it. Need a rock, for?

She smirked.
Yeah, at least he agreed.
Who wouldn't?

"To smash it open," she replied.
Just as that coastal traveller showed her.
She cast her gaze around, eyes landing on a suitable dark rock. She fetched it, picking it up with a little difficulty in her jaws and carried it back over.
Now, when Vegas had shown her, the crabs were on the beach's surface.

She swept her paw under the crab, lifting it from the sand and making it run from the pool onto the stones. She followed it with ease, though she was now struggling to keep hold of the rock.
She planted her paws to block the critters escape routes until it stopped.

Crunch.
The rock fell from her jaws square on the crab's shell, cracking it open.
Her eyes tilted to the man with a smirk, licking the salty water from her lips.

To... smash it open? Tahoe observed with dubiety as the woman retrieved her chosen rock. With an effortless maneuver, the crustacean was uprooted from its spot, then made the fatal decision to flee. The woman followed, trapped it, then dropped her heavy stone upon it, seemingly killing it. Skeptical of such a feat, he furrowed his brow at her, then walked over for further inspection. The crab was most definitely done for, the rock had indeed smashed the creature beyond recovery. Though dying, it wasn't officially dead. McBride watched with perked ears as the crab's legs still spasmed with movement out from under the partial cover of the stone. A low growl escaped him as he bent downward, nipping at the legs to potentially stimulate a coordinated reaction in the dying being. The action was met with no resistance, as the crab's legs had grown limp, either in deathly exhaustion, or it had gone the step further and already died. As absurd as her methods were, the stranger's technique was remarkably effective—he'd give credit where it was due. 

Tahoe's attention flicked up to her. Now, where'd ya learn a thing like that?

He seemed fully perplexed for a good moment until the penny-- or at least the rock -- dropped.
She worked her jaw for a few moments, the pain starting to subside from gripping such a large, heavy object.

He investigated the twitching legs with speculation.
It was certainly dead though.

"A stranger down the coast," she tilted her head towards the west, "that was a while ago."
God. It had been before Rokig. Shame.

She reached out and rolled the rock off the squashed crustacean.
She then took up a leg. That was where a lot of the meat was and started to crunch on them.
He was welcomed to join the tiny feast, though. Her body language spoke a thousand words.

“A stranger down the coast.” As she was to him, currently. She added that the encounter had happened awhile ago; she must’ve had much time to practice her skills.

I see. He responded, gazing at the woman as she began to chew on the small crustacean. She didn’t seem overly possessive of her quarry, but he still chose not to join in. She had done all the work anyway, and the meal was too small for sharing. Tahoe wouldn’t accept handouts unless forced to. Instead, he wanted to master the strategy of crab hunting. The man turned away, stepping toward the edge of the puddle in which they had initially located the crab. He peered into the cloudy water for a moment, a question coming to mind, then looked back to her.

Where’d these things like ta’ hide then?

He seemed uninteresting in dining with her.
He was probably still unsure about the taste.
More for her.
The saltiness of the crab leg flooded her mouth - ah a bit too salty! - she pulled a face until the sweeter meat could soften the taste. Ah, better. She drooled a bit as she ate - not realising that she was until he asked a question.

She licked her chops quickly.
Her head tilted, looking up and down the coast, thinking.
"They like being in the shallow water around rocks, but sometimes you'll get lucky and they'll be in a big pool like this," she gestured the to stagnant water, obviously not in a rockpool but rather just below a ridge in the beach's topography, preventing it from being sucked back out with the tide.
"Sometimes they're just all up on the beach after a storm. Guess the ocean sweeps them up or something."

His question made her pause her meal. Tahoe was appreciative of her reply, it was quite helpful.

Shallow water. Gotcha, He repeated, half to himself, attention focusing back to the pool which lay before him. An ear flicked back as he listened to the sounds of the woman, who had resumed her munching. Continuing, Tahoe took her advice and waded in with caution, head poised attentively above the water's surface as he searched for the outline of a crab. He searched the water with care, fully investigating the water body before coming to the conclusion that it harbored no more sizable lifeforms. As a last ditch effort, he used a forepaw to kick up some sand from the puddle-floor. The technique happened to work, spooking a small, blackish creature from the shallow depths. It scuttled out from the water and scurried away on the beach. Was that another crab? Even so, it was too small to be worth eating. Nonetheless, it was a step in the right direction. McBride observed the animal flee, then strode out of the puddle and returned to the stranger. A storm would be real useful right now.

You hungry for a few more?

Sorry for the delay ;-; we can close here if you want

She smirked.
He was confident, and obviously adept at hunting to some degree. He picked it up easily enough.
She tore into some more of the legs, chewing them as he practised his skills of digging up his own crab.

She wondered what it would be like to teach her children these skills. To watch them romp around in the water, fighting over their prizes...
She stopped herself thinking about ti too hard...she'd only burst into tears.

His voice broke her thoughts, and she looked up to him, swallowing the food in her mouth.
"Of course," she smiled. A good hunt was what was good for her.

Archived! <3

He was pleased to find out she was willing to stick around, some pointers would be useful when learning this new technique. Some criticism wouldn't be enough to dent his ego. Despite priding himself as an established hunter, Tahoe knew of course that his realm of knowledge was not infinite. A stubborn man himself, he rarely ventured out of his comfort-zone—but recognized where change was beneficial. From experience, the ones who remained unchanged would die along with the times. 

Tahoe nodded in reply, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned away and strode toward the sea. Soon, she would join him to hunt, under the dwindling sunlight which remained.