Bearclaw Valley You're so ambitious for a juvenile

"@Athella, darling," Ameline purred, singling out her lookalike daughter from the others. 

Each, in turn, would be called out for more and more one-on-one time with their mother. She would prune the others from these private meetings, promising them each in turn that they would have quality time. She reached to entice her daughter with a light click of her teeth, followed swiftly by a smile. 

With a wave of her tail, she turned and trotted- leading her daughter away from the densite, and toward the heart of the valley, where the river ran, and where the trout had begun to congregate in their spawning grounds.

Athella had gone through a growth spurt. Though very much puppy like, her metamorphosis consisted of a brightening of her fur. The golden necklace more ablaze than ever before. Her eyes, no longer like dark pools of water, were now their final shade of burnished gold. She was a blended doppelganger of her mother and her great grandfather @Merrick. His intensity shown in her eyes.

The Bearclaw warrior princess in training needed no further coaxing than the utterance of her name. She flew forth, clicking her jaws at the retreating tufts of Ameline's tail tip. Her gangly legs moved fluidly. In long strides, she caught up to fall in step at her mother's side. She smiled, beaming up at her. She felt a special kinship with the Bearclaw Matriarch today.

She was her Minnie me, all the way down to the perfect way and timing in which her legs synced with her mother's. Her tail lashing out freely, ears set upright and her eyes alert with interest. Out of her peripheral, she glanced in the distance to a certain spot. Where once a severed head lay delivered like an omen. Her lips pulled tight in a scowl, a darkness creeping to the edges of the look in her eye.

Oh how she had not forgotten.

But she stayed on course, drawn to the sound of trickling water. Where the river ran, swollen with fish. Veering ahead, nose lowering to the ground, she edged precariously close to where soil and water met. Intense eyes fixated with a silent glint of predatory interest on the speckled, colorful fish.

While some of Ameline's pride might have come from vanity- she thought herself beautiful and thus, her lookalike of a daughter was too- the majority of it came from seeing how Athella moved. She was exactly what Ameline would hope for in a pack wolf. One who could move without direction, synch up step, focus, gaze and heartbeat- without needing communication. What took some wolves years to learn was something she believed her daughter had come by innately. 

When she moved ahead into the shallow waters, Ameline felt another swell of pride. Boldness was sought-after as well. Her daughter would face more than currents and cold waters in her lifetime, and she would be best off if she feared very little, much the same way Ameline had been. 

"Everything hath a weakneth," She said. The fish milled in the water, occasionally dipping beneath a rock ledge and out of sight. "They're eathietht to catch if you can run a group of them into the shallowth...Upriver, there- the water'th only a few incheth deep along the edgeth, an' only thmall rockth that they can't hide underneath." She trained her eyes on the shallow section of the river, where the current was quick, but indeed very shallow. "Let'th go downriver...We'll wade in part way, an' try an' chathe 'em up into that thweet thpot. Don't let 'em thee you, or your shadow, or they'll hide." She instructed, withdrawing from the water's edge.

Radar like ears swiveled, taking in the reception that was her mother's advice. These fish had a weakness that could be exploited. And she explained how. "You catch them before?" She echoed her curiosity. Glad that she had not inched closer to dip her toes into the water. The young hunter would have been spotted.

She followed Ameline's gaze upriver, where the water changed just slightly. She formulated a plan. "A trap. Chase 'n catch." She echoed with toothy grin and a whipping of her tail. Her first real hunt! But fish were slippery prey, as she would soon learn. 

Bobbing her head in a short gesture of enthusiasm, Athella peeled away, creeping along downriver. She wanted to glance aside or pop her head up for a peek. Her darting gold eyes said as much.

Yeth, The Bearclaw responded warmly, with a swish of her proud tail. Fish had been one of her primary hunting resources when she had been Athella’s age- it had been the first meal she’d been given by the other youngsters of Redtail Rise, as well. Now, she hoped to pass the skills on to her own children, in their own home. 

A trap, ekthactly. She said, giving her daughter a fond slow-blink of her eyes. She could tell Athella thrived when she was given a challenge- especially when there was potential for a reward. She beamed with pride at a child so capable and willing; her future would be bright. Ameline would make it so. 

In spite of her enthusiasm, her daughter obeyed her guidance, and kept her profile low. Ameline wishes she could express her pride- but not without potentially ruining their hunt. 

She moved toward her daughter and jutted her chin toward the water where he ran shallow again, just below a pool of knee-deep water that she hoped was a shelter for the trout. Carefully, she crept forward, stepping into the cool waters and gazing upriver, toward the bend where she hoped to run the trout ashore. 

She didn’t look toward Athella, but kept her in her peripheral vision; once the girl was at her side, she would give a slight nod before she splashed forward, charging toward the pool.