Arrow Lake the beast of beauclair

hunkering down for the night along the skirts of god's masonry, the sunpires, stigmata paused for a time at the shore of arrow lake for a bit of fishing. it was a poorly realized plan - a whim, to be most accurate - as he was neither proficient in the art, nor did the ink-darkness lit tentatively around him by mega-distant stars prove for an ideal setting to his chosen task. fishing by moonlight, for a wolf, seemed ludicrous to someone like him, but the urge to do it anyway currently outbid his opinion on the task as they battled for dominance over his actions.

he waded slowly into the lake, appearing as a dark, sturdy shadow half consumed by the silver-green ripples of a moonlit reservoir. and then he stilled, peering into the opaque waters as if he could see; waiting for... something.

@Anwara

I apologise in advance for her lmao

He was a large man.

In comparison to herself, anyway - the coywolf was dainty, a small ball of fire amongst the shadows of night; her colours were slightly muted in the darkness, but eyes of yellow sparkled from her scrunched features, watching in silence as the stranger observed the glistening ripples of water. His pelt was of charcoal hues, dusted with greys, as though he'd been standing in the hail and the drops had stuck to his body. It would be a lie to say that Anwara was not mildly intimidated by his side, but the very conclusion sent her reeling with annoyance.

Her paw still stung (though the bleeding had ceased and she'd licked it mostly clean), and she was not happy about it. She had intended to approach the lakeside to tiptoe into the icy rivulets of water and soothe her gargantuan (tiny) wound, but now this asshole had claimed the spot for himself. Tits! 

The red wanderer continued to moodily glare at him from a distance before huffing and strutting out from her hiding spot, short body emerging into a beam of pale light. The moon cast a wonderous spell on the lake's surface, sparkling like broken puzzle pieces of white and illuminating the coywolf's features so delicately, but she was entirely unaware. She missed the spectacle completely, fully intent on maintaining her miserable grudge and approaching the water's edge with a cold glare.

over the strange aquatic noises bubbling up here and there across the lake, stigmata became aware that he was no longer alone on the lakeshore - assuming he had come to the area first. the would-be angler turned his head slowly, making a valiant effort to remain unmoved from the shoulders down, lest he disturb the unwary fish.

he stiffened when he saw her - the ridge of his back rippling in alarm as he mistook her, on sight, for a certain russet-furred redleaf. but the searing gold shine of this stranger's eyes saved her from a potentially grave mistake, and for a fiercely negative moment, stigmata paused to resent the way in which he had been stricken reactive towards fire-hued coats.

more or less ignoring the barbwire glare he could feel like acupuncture needles along his spine, the warhound gave one heavy snort of dismissive acknowledgement, and then turned his muzzle straight once more to resume his own activity. if all she had were proverbial daggers to throw, then he need not be concerned.

same! don't pay much mind to krampus over here - he's going thru some things lmao

Finally the charcoal man inclined his head in her direction, though the reaction she got was not the one she had anticipated - initially the stranger was stricken with an aggressive anger that flooded his body and set his hackles bristling; Anwara had raised her tail, feeling her own spine tingle with apprehension before she made a steady attempt to calm herself. She could totally beat him if he wanted a fight, and then she'd make him apologise for being an ass. 

But the fury was diminished as soon as it had grown, and the red coywolf was met with a dismissive snort before the man turned back to staring into the water like an idiot. What? That was it? Feeling irritation of her own bubble up in the Kinaaz' stomach, she danced toward the water's edge and shot a hard glare in the man's direction; her paws felt the ice-cold ripples brush against her pads. Anwara cringed before taking another step in, only to scream "AH!" and leap back with surprised repulsion. No, no, that did not feel nice. Her ankle had stung as it touched the water (perhaps it was just too cold?), and that was not okay. Ouch.

though he kept an ear out for the she-wolf - monitoring her haughty progress to the water's edge - nothing could have prepared stigmata for her very sudden and piercing yelp. he reacted as any startled predator might: rounding fiercely to face the potential threat, and scare it off with a show of might.

but all he could find, after ruining his fish-hunt, was the halfbreed favoring her forepaw with a pained grimace. she looked as if she had been assailed at first, but unless the perpetrator was a ghost, he found no immediate cause for her reaction. the warhound shouldered his way to shore, confident that the area was safe, even despite her grievous protest to the very water.

he didn't turn his attention to he again until after reaching dry land, and giving himself a shake. he glared at her. "you must be lonely," he stated unkindly; eyes prying towards her injured foot, as he imagined ways to exploit her.

but she was not one to be exploited, and skittered away with her injury, leaving stigmata grumpy and fruitlessly chilled to the bone in the process. he abandoned his efforts at the lake, too cold to have anything more of it after such a sour interruption.