Snap, snap, SNAP! Steel trap jaws sprang shut with a mighty force, sending fishy water scattering violently..to no avail. The trap was empty, only water dripped off her soggy jaws, as ivory harpoons reset themselves. Sootbird had been fishing before, but seldom on a beach, and such a noisy one at that. Squawks of nearby Sea Lions gave the early evening air an adventurous energy. They all squabbled and busied themselves with late dinners or preparing for the nights socialization. Sootbird liked to try and observe other species to better understand them, to expand her own beliefs and possibilities. She liked it almost as much as hunting them. The young she wolf determined the beach's strange water dogs to be of no use hunting, she had tried and failed quite miserably. Perhaps they were simply part of the circle of life here, and an annoyance timed just right to middle her concentration during fishing. Taking a few quick, watery breaths, great dark jaws set to work again in the water as keen eyes spied a decent sized fish lurking just near enough.
SNAP! One definite crunch of scale and meat and bone, she had him. A fierce light glimmered in her chocolate eyes as she fought the sporadic thrashes of her catch. Lean legs were drenched and trailed seemingly half the tide with her as she padded back up the beach from the near shallows. Giving a few more deliberate chomps to her prize, the Oathbone huntress tossed it ashore at her campsite for the evening. The atmosphere had only now begun to birth a sunset, with brilliant clouds for the light to play off. Shade near the beach had become brisk, and the breeze cool, but the sand retained the days warmth a while longer. She shook her great, obsidian coat, scattering a shower of diamonds that caught the brilliant dying light, and for a moment the dark woman was dripping in gold.
Thoroughly shaken, nose to tail tip, the lucky huntress added the medium sized fish to her other small fish she was currently unburying. Luck had been with her today, along with reliable skill. Hunting of any sort was the only thing she seemed to bother herself with lately, especially in these new lands. The Teekon Wilds. Screeches and awkward calls from the busy Sea Lions interrupted her recovery of lunch from earlier, and she stood tall and drip drying on the beach in the sunset. She was lost in the nature all around her, flooded by the beauty and peace of the evening, despite the busy lives around her. The waves crashed and pulled at the shore, filling her head with white noise and she lost track of her mission to bury dinner. The evening sang with it's dying breath, and she listened into dusky twilight.
She had slept most of the day away. Baking in the sun for a few hours, then squirreling away in to the trees and long grass. There wasn't much cover from the summer sun, but it was enough to stave off heat stroke. Ark rested for hours, until the day had cooled in to a lethargic, humid evening. There were strange sounds upon the shore. They dissuaded her from moving at first, but the pain of hunger (and her healing body's intense need) prompted her to rise. Having spent most of the day watching the swath of sand, Arkham had anticipated that someone from Majesty's group would be nearby—however, it became apparent after a few hours of patient waiting that she had judged things wrongly. This was not the beach that had swept her to their doorstep.
Still, it had to be close. As the evening settled in around her, Arkham took to observing the horizon; there was dying light that cast a baleful glow across the sea, and in the distance she thought she saw... Some kind of ink-stain at the edge of the world. She pondered exploring towards the north (which is, coincidentally, where she had indeed come from) but then there was a flurry of motion by the ocean's edge.
The girl ducked low in to the grasses at first and instantly regretted the tension that greeted her muscles. She winced and crept out from her hiding place, lurking along the shore and tracking the sounds—cautious, but curious too. There was a furious splashing noise, and then quite suddenly, a dark figure rose up before her from the surf. Golden tendrils of light spun from their coat as they shook dry. It took all of Arkham's remaining courage to refuse the instinctual desire to run.