Verdant Basin End of the world - The musical

Perhaps someone from Silver Creek? @Casmir, @Spring , @Saena?

Traveling through the wasteland that was what the siren called home now was boring - to say the least. She had seen everything at the coast, and even though she loved it there, especially the waves, the scenery was getting old even for her. She had met some strangers already, almost all loners, and had only scented around two- maybe three packs, all of which had lost Ondine's interest fairly quickly. She knew she had to join one eventually, a lone wolf wasn't going far in life after all, but when was not specified. The waterwitch told herself that, when the green was as good as back, she would find a place to call home. Joining a pack now would be too hard anyway with the lack of prey. She was better off alone, she thought, since her biggest adventures had been with just her- nobody else.

Today she awoke as soon as a single bird, which she cursed at under her breath, started singing an irritating tune just above her head. Perhaps it wanted to eat some of the locust bodies that were scattered all over the place. Whatever it was, and how well she mostly treated nature in all it's forms, she didn't care. The white ghost got up from her resting spot, that was surprisingly comfortable despite there only being sand and mud, and walked away from the bloody annoying animal.

She traveled further inland, seeing no more than brown, and brown, and hey- would you look at that? Brown, who could've guessed. She grunted softly in irritation. The destruction was even worse here than on the coast. More insect bodies, too. She took one in her mouth, slowly chewing it to see if it had some kind of taste but quickly spat it out as soon as the poison like blood of the insect touched her tongue. Eww, eeeww, eeewww! She screeched, walking faster past the saliva drenched insect. Nature was fucked here, even she could tell.

She now trotted through the barren wasteland but came to a stop when the sound of water reached her ears. She had caught fish before, but was now questioning her skills. She stared at the water, fixated on a sparkling thing underwater, not paying much attention to her surroundings.

   

Not sure HOW Mac would've made it this far from his base camp but we'll just go with it ^_~

If you're unsure of what a Newfoundland is here's a reference link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newfoundland_(dog)
--


Mac and Fry had always had two entirely different schedules for the morning. The Newfie was an early riser, an afternoon napper, and then a dinnertime slouch; Fry was a late riser, an afternoon napper, and a dinnertime maniac. The black juggernaut stole off into the foreign territory after whispering of his plans to the comatose Retriever who, hardly conscious at the time, waved him off to do his thing.

So it was the Burger by his lonesome that stumbled from the brush and happened upon a curious looking breed soliciting by a stream's edge. He almost barked an excited hello (her humans might be able to take him to his and Fry's humans) but was caught off guard by the red stain splashed along the side of her face.

Don't be rude he chided himself as the state of the she wolf's face prompted a mild gaping of his mouth. It looked horrifically painful to be honest. But he'd heard of worse. There was always some sort of gossiping between dogs at the park told terrifying tales of lawn equipment mishaps and car incidents -

In Carl the Corgi's defense he thought his reflection in the chrome bumper was a long lost cousin and he was too distracted with joy to sense the peril of his head-on approach.

- and for whatever reason humans seemed to hold the keys to fixed boo boos. Mac himself had been victim to a bee sting once; the fat bugger had been flying delightfully close to his face before he snatched it mid-air with a victorious snap. A mysterious pink pill (one that required 2 grown adults to force feed him) made the irritating itch and swelling ebb throughout the night. So he assumed, somehow, that the affliction of her face had been handled. Otherwise she'd be screaming right? Right.

He gave a sage nod and kept a respectable distance while watching her with curious eyes and a tentatively wagging tail. Friend? He queried with the slightest cant of his cheek.

The water rippled, the wind causing the smallest of waves and the slightest disturbances that the white ghost observed with aw. She forgot about food for a moment, simply staring at the sun its rays shimmering on the small waves like just polished diamonds, like the twinkle in a lover his eye as he looks at his beloved. At sea, this couldn't be observed as close as by lake, therefore the siren treasured this moment. She forgot about the barren wasteland around her, in her thoughts jumping in the sparkling water to live there, to breath there. If only there wasn't the smell of something non-wolf nearby.

Her head popped up to look around and her orbs landed upon a black creature, that sort of resembled a fearless wolf, but only droopy, fluffy and fat. She raised an eyebrow at it, not knowing what to do with it. Was it prey? Did it think she was prey? It had a tail, it had the four legs, it almost had everything a real wolf had, but still- this creature wasn't one. right?

She sat down slowly, her bum touching the cold moist ground, her white tail wagging slightly. She wasn't hungry enough to attack and didn't have the energy to chase it away. She wondered if it could speak, since it had manners. She watched as he nodded in greeting, and so did she, keeping a puzzling look on her stained face. 

Am I disturbing you? She asked in a gently tone, not even sure if it could talk back.

She looked like the disregarded fruition of a Malapoot Malamute + Husky cross but a touch...wilder than anything he'd interacted with before. Her bi-toned stare was reminiscent of the hawks he sometimes studied during afternoons spent idling in his backyard. Her similar expression of uncertainty toward him made him doubly curious; she seemed as duped by his appearance as he was hers.
 
Poor thing has never seen another dog before," he speculated with a pang of pity. She wasn't even familiar with her own kind and yet she'd been brought out here?!
 
She spoke and he readily listened...the soft curves of his audits pressing forward to cusp the softness of her words. "Not at all," he replied honestly. And then there was a courteous volley of, "Am I disturbing you?"  

Spring had gotten up rather early to go and search outside of the Creek for some prey - if there still was any.  She had traveled for a few hours, stopping every know and then to stare sadly at the devastation and think of what the places could have looked like with some greenery and herbs... oh herbs what was her purpose in life with out them?  Spring felt so usless.  If any one got hurt she would be the only healer but now she had almost nothing to work with.  A deppressing thought passed her mind.  Was everyone going to die in the famine?

She stopped in her tracks though at the sight of a white wolf and a... thing.  She didn't know what to call it.  It was strange... like a wolf but just very different at the same time.  Intrested the Silver Creek and former Phoenix wolf padded forward to comfront them - maybe find out what the thing was.  "Hello."  She called out, in the most friendly voice that she could muster up in such a devasting time.

The creature spoke, which came as a surprise for the siren, surprise that was visible on her feminine face. She pulled up the leg that was closest to it, to get a better view of the creature. His voice sounded male, but who knew, maybe this sort of animal had females with very low voices. Wow, that sounded ridiculous. But could she call it sir? She slowly shook her head as a no. He wasn't disturbing her. She was basically doing nothing anyway, though she actually wanted to see if she could still catch something.

Just as she was about to ask if the droopy black blob was hungry, another presence neared, one that was wolf. The siren could easily see that it was a female too, unlike with the creature that approached her first. She greeted them, awfully cheery given the circumstances, but Ondine didn't think much of it. Some were just born happy and cheery, and maybe it was a good thing to not wallow in sorrow.

Greetings. She greeted, but her gaze went back to the water where fish ruled. She needed to eat one day or another, why not now. She slowly went into the water, not giving an explanation to the beings behind. And there she stood, motionless as the cold water numbed her feet and legs. 

Being stared at here was no different to him as it was being stared at while he was home. Mac was a big guy that naturally garnered attention...the mix of awe and wariness he often sensed from others had never bothered him too much. So he endured the wide-eyed curiosity with a somewhat quickened pace of his tail...the lengthening of their silent pause stirring excitement in his breast.  
 
And then there were two. Good Lord the behemoth thought to himself as the eerily similar females settled in his sight. The newest addition seemed just as friendly as the first so there was no trepidation of suddenly being out numbered; though it would've been smarter for the dog to be on his toes whether he was amongst the company of a single stranger or a fleet of them.
 
"Hello!" he returned jovially at the utterance of the newcomer. But the first wildling had dismissed them both entirely and stood in the cool water and peered beneath the surface. Mac, an avid swimmer, knew precisely what she was doing and fought the urge to join her. As he wrestled with his impulses he glanced at the second wolf and gathered up enough sense to announce, "I'm Big Mac! Everyone calls me Mac...and sometimes Mackers. Other times Macadoodle. And for some reason Bubby." His brows furrowed together as he tried to think of any more monikers he'd heard during his time on earth. A smaller voice murmuered, "Macaroni and Cheese...Big Boy..."
 
He paused and gave his heavy head a shake as though to rattle his train of thought.
 
"I'm not from around here," he finished finally with a goofy smile.

The first wolf was creepy and the second thing was just... interesting.  What was that thing?  That was not the only question swarming her mind though, another thing that surprised her was the the white wolf whom Spring suddenly recognized that she seemed to have a bloody gouged out eye, but then wouldn't she be in pain?  Where was logic in this place.  Confusion write itself upon the brown furred female's face.  None of this made any sense.  She missed the world of logic.  Her healer side wanted to offer help to the wolf who looked to have a gouged out eye, but didn't as the wolf just slipped into the water, after saying "Greetings" to Spring.

The next... thing used a rather cheerful voice and began to ramble off what seemed like a million gizzilion names that he was called.  WHo had so many names?  Couldn't you stick with at least one or a first and last name like her own Spring Ciel.  Maybe even a middle name.  This thing just rambled off a ton of names though.  Okay then... Spring thought quietly to herself.  Unsure of how to responde she just said.  "Nice to meet you both I'm Spring."  Her words came out quick, neat and formally... maybe with a little touch of awkward to though.

Hello! French Fry is too shy to introduce himself in this post but @Big Mac can powerplay it for me if it is all right with her. ♥

Despite their conflicting inner clocks, French Fry felt something of a stirring unease whenever Big Mac was out of hock-gnawing distance. Having been around the inky behemoth since puppyhood, Fry felt like a pot without a lid when he was alone. Mac was the brains and the brawn of their unlikely duo; French Fry was...well, speed and confusion personified. Presently the Golden Retriever kicked and whined himself out of a dream of whose nature, upon waking, he had no recollection. Then, nose to the ground, still half-asleep, he went in search of Mac.

Heavy-lidded eyes were focused on the ground instead of Fry’s surroundings, so it wasn’t a surprise that with a solid thwack! he ran directly into a tree. Backpedaling furiously, having frightened himself with the sound alone, French Fry burst into a streamlined, almost graceful sprint. Now he could hear voices — Mac’s deep, ponderous voice comingled with two unfamiliar female voices. After taking a few minutes to puzzle out the situation, French Fry came to an honest conclusion: he’s outnumbered! The chubby golden dog put double the effort into running to try to get to his brother’s side in a timely manner.

He arrived shortly just after Spring rattled off a quick, polite reply to something Mac had said, offering her name. Ladies tended to make French Fry an awkward combination of giddy and embarrassed, and it reflected in his posture as he dropped into a sphinx-like position and began to worm his way forward on his stomach. Nobody in this strange place seemed to have a hat like he did, and while this had never troubled him in the past, in the past there had always been the Family to offer their Cowardly Lion love and reassurance. If Fry had been capable of it, he’d have blushed.

He scuttled over to Big Mac’s side in this fashion, peeking out from behind his big brother to regard the two females. They were both achingly beautiful — let’s face it, French Fry’s neuter was a very recent thing — and his eyes passed with nervous curiosity from Spring’s scarred but lovely muzzle to Ondine’s vividly marked face. They were like the “tough girls” in movies; the ones who led men around by their noses without batting an eyelash. It was fair to say that French Fry was terribly intimidated — and already smitten — with both the marshmallow fluff water witch and the chocolate and chestnut agouti pack wolf.

Roll = 3

Ondine, Ondine água. She spoke, eyes still fixated on that one particular fat fish close to her body. She didn't pay much attention to what was going on on the shore. She only smelled the watery scent of the lake she was standing in, ready to get a nice meal. Living on the seacoast had been a while ago for her, but she still knew how to fish.

She could easily remember their specific names, Spring and Big Mac, and she stored them in the back of her brain for later use. For now, the only thing that was important was catching this meal. She struck, but missed and just got a mouthful of water. The fish scattered and her face was wet. She made a grumpy 'hmmph' sound and stood still again, ready to try a second time.

Shitty post, I'm sorry <3

I am trying my damndest to figure out this darn dice thing haha!

[Mac rolled a 1 in the dice forum]

--
 
"You ok?" he asked of Fry while his attention shifting wholly away from the she wolves and onto the Retriever. His brother appeared to be slightly out of breath - not entirely unusual but worth noting all the same - and there were heavy scuff marks, fresh, on one side of his cone. Mac had argued with himself as to whether or not he needed to try and wrestle the device off his companion but he still held the regard of their humans in high regard; Mac wasn't supposed to touch the cone. No No. No touch.
 
Bad boy.
 
The very thought of those two words made him wince. He abstained from going against the Masters' orders...but he wasn't sure how much longer Fry needed to be gallavanting around with it on.
 
"French Fry," he indicated with the backward tipping of his head to highlight that his announcement concerned the russet nugget hiding in his shadow.  "My brother," was tagged with an unmistakable flutter of pride upon his smiling lips. Fry was a total train wreck most times but gosh dangit he was a ball of love and good intentions. Mac loved him unconditionally...and he knew Fry loved him just as fiercely back.
 
The spooky femme wading in the water appeared to give it a go at fishing and Mac's ears lifted in interest. He hated that she failed...but he took the opportunity to try and be helpful. He moved forward slowly, contemplating the somewhat suspicious character of both of his new acuaintances, and sloshed his way into the water a few yards down from where Ondine sat.

There was a momentary pause before he plunged his head into the water. His droopy face made a stupendous clapping sound as they slapped the surface and the impact of his strike made the shallow depths ripple way beyond what his eyes could see.

It was a blind grab at the shapes flitting around but Mac's luck was often good. However when his soaking crown lifted there was nothing in his jaws; a mixed look of surprise and determination danced across his dripping face as he tilted his attention back to the water and baited the prey to return with his stillness. "One more," he murmured quietly to himself.

A new... thing came into the scene, shortly after she spoke.  She turned to watch it as itbegan to worm it's way to them.  For crying out loud what were these things?  They looked like wolves... but not.  It was hard to describe.  So hard to describe.  Besides the confusion though Spring was able to figure out that the white female was fishing and had missed.  She had also found out that the golden wolflike thing's name was French Fry.  Still even that confused her.  Was he named after French, the language and something called a Fry?  She didn't ask.

"Nice to meet you French Fry."  Was all she said, rather slowly as she progressed carefully through her words.  Spring also wondered what that thing was on French Fry's neck.  What was it for?  Why did this creature where it?  She didn't understand.  Not at all.  Spring thoughts quickly vanished though as Big Mac shoved his face into the water.  All she could think was: why?

Ondine’s new avatar is super cute! I apologize for the delay. orz

I rolled a two, which means success for French Fry, but I have zero idea how I’m to do this with the e-collar. I have decided to just wing it. I hope this is okay.

If it’s not, please let me know and I’ll change my post. ^^

“French Fry. My brother.”

The note of pride in Big Mac’s voice bolstered the chubby Golden Retriever’s confidence substantially; thus comforted, he edged out of the Newfoundland’s impressive shadow to dip his head in an oddly refined bow to both females. “Nice to meet you,” he said politely, calling on the power of Good Manners to help him navigate this odd situation. Chubby as he was, French Fry was the smallest creature present — something he wasn’t accustomed to.

I mean, aside from Mac, pretty much everyone looked small. But French Fry was leggier and heftier than a lot of the dog park regulars back home — especially Carl the Corgi.

He watched keenly as first Ondine, then Mac plunged their heads into the water, both coming up sopping and determined to try again. If they could try it...couldn’t he? French Fry shook himself all over, snorting in dismay as the plastic cone flapped like a frisbee, then trotted several yards upstream. The e-collar made him cautious, gun shy; he’d gotten caught on bushes, trees, rocks, and occasionally the ground itself if he dipped his head too low to sniff. He’d smacked Mac more than a few times, which the good-natured Newfoundland never seemed to mind, but French Fry’s was a chronically guilty conscience. He couldn’t bear to embarrass himself — or worse, physically bludgeon — the exceptionally beautiful ladies.

Staring down at the water with fierce concentration, his russet brow furrowed and his floppy ears tipped forward and upward, the Golden Retriever tilted his head first to one side, then the other. Oh! Oh! There they are! His tail began to wave maniacally as his hind paws danced, shifting his sizeable weight from side to side in readiness and unfettered excitement. There was no room for strategy in the yearling’s empty head — he was wont to leap before looking, literally — and so without further delay, he threw himself directly into the school of fat, healthy fish with a colossal splash! and a slightly more regretful gluk! grgrlgl!

The slippery fish escaped French Fry’s grasp more than once, but for once his e-collar seemed to serve a higher purpose — one unlucky fish got trapped between the golden boy’s face and the collar. French Fry chomped and snapped, desperate to snag his one chance at being the hero of the moment — he slavered like a rabid thing; his lips flipped back and his tongue lolling as though he were in the throes of a particularly violent seizure; his eyes rolled to bare the whites as he sought to remain afloat and not let the fish escape. But he couldn’t grasp it.

It was dumb luck that the fish itself flopped the wrong way out of the e-collar, landing on the riverbank with a series of panicked spasms. Paddling furiously, his cream-feathered tail working like a rudder, French Fry hauled himself out of the water and attempted to catch his fish properly — nomf! nomf! — but in the end, all that was left for him to do was throw himself on top of it. The wet, cold flopping against his abdomen was a ticklish, unpleasant feeling, but he didn’t dare get up lest the fish flop its way back to freedom.

“H-Help!” he wheezed. “Mac! Ondine! Spring! What do I do?!”

Daww, thank you. I really like French Fry's too!

Ondine misses her first attempt: http://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=11893&pid=191166#pid191166

But gets a fiiish when she gets mad: http://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=11893&pid=191167#pid191167

Ondine didn't pay much attention to what was going on behind her, only hearing the footsteps of yet another thing and the voice of Big Mac saying who he was. After her failed attempt though, she looked behind her only to see a yellow-like creature with a large... thing around it's neck. She didn't question it however, knowing how annoying it was when someone asked why you looked a certain way. Nice meeting you. She said, eyes drifting Big Mac.

A wet, stained face looked curiously at the black blob that was Big Mac. He was going to attempt to catch a meal too, and Ondine couldn't blame him. Everyone must be as hungry as the wolves by now (hah!). An blue and black eye watched the black thing get into the water, a fair distance away. He struck too, but, just as her, came up with nothing.

Next came the golden thing -how could these two things even be related?- to join the damned pool party. He, however, didn't end up empty handed, which only made Ondine more determined to catch something too. Just kill it! Use your teeth! She yelled, hoping not to scare most fish away. She also hoped the weird creature even had teeth, or that the weird thing around his neck could like, become teeth or something.

Ondine struck once again, eager to get something in her stomach today. She almost hit her nose against the bottom of the lake and came up with, again, nothing between her pearl white teeth. She growled at the water. Why, if I ever! She called out, snapping at the water another time out of pure hate and madness for the fish. Surprisingly, she felt the squishy flesh of fish as she penetrated a fish's body. Impossible, she thought. She quickly got out of the water, her fresh kill that was still flapping to regain it's freedom. She bit harder, surely killing the poor creature that now lay limp inside her mouth.

With a proud look, she dropped the fish on the ground to eat. For hungry, she was greatly.

Lawl poor Spring is just like, "I must be hallucinating. This shit's bananas." xD

FINALLY I ROLLED SUCCESS!: http://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=11893&pid=191182#pid191182
--
 
If the fish were stirred at all before they were practically churning the water by the time three predators descended upon them. Thick ripples washed up against his legs after Fry began stirring the water with his cone and brought a mass of discombobulated bodies with it; perhaps they found the shadow cast by Mac's bulk a comforting cloak of nightfall...a safe haven beneath a cluster of rocks from which they could hide from the sudden flux of terrors.
 
Mistaaaaaaake!
 
Despite Fry's high pitched cries for help Mac seized his momentary advantage and totally tuned his brother out. Ondine failed and shortly thereafter succeeding with the aimless snapping of her teeth - a smug grin curled at his lips as she demonstrated unlady like fury - and, spurred by being the last creature standing in the depths, Mac made the plunge and speared his head right in the midst of a clustered bunch huddled against his forearms.
 
A shine of silver caught the light when he pulled back for air. The trout wasn't as big as the other two catches but it was alive, meaty, and ready for eaty...all 3 requisites for wild animals on the prowl. He squeezed with all the precise intent of a predator and felt his teeth puncture through the layers of flesh and tissue; a deep woof of triumph escaped him and he turned to slosh noisily out of the water while carrying his now limp and listless prize.
 
But first!
 
Chocolate brown eyes regarded the dumbfounded Spring and he gave his muzzle a flick to toss the dying morsel at her feet. For you, his motions indicated before he galloped to where his wheezing brother still struggled.
 
"Just!" he said loudly before swiping a paw at what parts of the fish still remained visible. "We gotta-!" he tacked to the end of his first incomplete sentence as he slapped his foot down over and over until a piece of the prey got smashed beneath his toe pads. He pinned the tail and voiced his victory with a bark of excitement.  If Fry couldn't maim it with his teeth he could certainly maim it with his girth. "Step on it, Fry! Kill it!"    

Lol, yeah.

Spring just stared ahead in a stunned silence.  She watched quietly as the fish were killed in a mad scramble for food by all but her and then listened as French Fry cried out for a savior.  Spring then watched as Big Mac dropped a fish at her paws, normally she would have been overdelighted for being noticed... but this situation was not normal.  "Thanks...."  She drawled quietly and awkwardly, then watched through all of the chaos as Big Mac went back for his Brother.

The Beta of Silver Creek began to wonder if this day could get any stranger, because this level of strange had really risen up to a level of all the ranks of strangeness.  She watched as Big Mac cheered his Brother, French Fry on to basically get on with it and just kill the fish.  In a way it was quite amusing to watch such a strange sight... in a way.

She glanced down at the fish that Big Mac had given to her.  It was still dying... flipping around and fighting for air.  Spring watched it for thirty more seconds, counting them down.  Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one... zero.  Still not dead.  A sudden thought occured to her.  Had she caught the Strange Disease too?

What had happened to the world that she once knew?

Spring leaned down and bite into the fish, cracking it's skull and killing it.  She seriously wished that she had thought about doing that earlier, because now she felt kind of bad for letting the fish suffer for so long.  Why had she even counted down the seconds for it's life.  That had been mean to the poor animal that was giving away 10% of it's energy to her.  She reached down and neatly took a bite.

What a wierd day...

iamsonauseous x__x

 

“Just kill it!  Use your teeth!”
 
“B-But!” French Fry sputtered out helplessly.  Up until now, violence toward any other creature was a huge transgression.  It had been impressed upon French Fry from a very young age that gentle was the key — otherwise nobody wanted to play with you.  And hadn’t it hurt when Tiny the Bullmastiff puppy had elected to give French Fry an impromptu ear piercing?  Fuck yes, it had.  The fish’s frantic flopping had grown weaker, but he was still trying to Alien Chestburster his way out of Fry’s thorax — and the Golden Retriever stubbornly hung on, suffocating the poor trout with his fur.
 
The humans were going to be thrilled the next time they smelled their dogs.
 
At long last, the Newfoundland galloped over like a small, but regal pony.  “Just!  We gotta — !” snapped Big Mac’s decisive and slightly desperate timbre, punctuated by stomps and swipes of his fluffy feet.  Snapping at the creature with his teeth was impossible with the cone — French Fry was quick to obey his brother’s suggestion to kill it by a blunter and perhaps more barbaric method.  Whether the fish simply tired itself out or Fry just got another wave of dumb luck, it only took one quick pawing at the fish’s head before it was sufficiently murdered.
 
Since Big Mac had given his fish to Spring, the Golden Retriever nudged the fat trout toward his brother obligingly.  You first, implied his magnanimous gesture, as the pungently fish-scented retriever flopped down on his belly, then rolled onto his back to wrestle out the remainder of his energy.  The cone made harsh scraping noises as he writhed pleasurably this way and that, grunts and groans falling from his muzzle — which looked incredibly snaggletoothed when he was upside down this way.

The siren waited till Mac joined them with his own catch, and was surprised to see the weird creature toss his meal to... Spring was it? Oh, how terrible she was with names, truly. With mouth gaping open, nose hovering above her own catch, she looked at Spring for a moment. She didn't kill the flopping and flapping fish head on. no, she let the creature die a painful slow death. A frown settled upon Ondine's face. Even prey didn't deserve such a death. Hey, there is no use in letting your food suffer. She snapped grumpy, though it was just because Ondine respected sea creatures more than what was deemed normal.

Finally, the familiar cracking sound of a fish skull filled the air, and Ondine could finally relax. It was over, for both her own fish and that of Mac/Spring. She glanced over to the two weird creatures struggling with French Fry's catch and rolled her eyes at them with a smile. A weird bunch they were indeed. As her teeth penetrated the soft skin of her fish, the taste of the swimmer on her tongue, she forgot about everything around her. She closed her eyes as she feasted. Her berry juice stained face munching off the head of the poor creature.

This was life. True, coast life.