Post by bits on Jun 3, 2020 22:38:17 GMT
There was never a moment in Bear's life where she was not, in some way, connected to her Tribe.
From the time she toddled about, destined to provide prey for her community, to the seemingly ages-long nomadic journey of her young adulthood, the memory of the Tribe remained. It tugged her heart and her loyalty away from the clans she had so briefly lived with, through whispered exchanges with the only other Tribe cat - and family - she had left. It soothed her aching paws as she wandered, alone but for the reminiscing of her home. There exists no land and no life she could lead where her heart and soul did not belong with the Tribe. No title - apprentice, warrior, loner, rogue - could strip her of that connection. Bone deep and woven into her essence, the fact that a version of the Tribe remained was more than she ever could have hoped for.
There were some key differences, however, and Bear was loathe to admit it but ... she wasn't nearly as strong a swimmer as a water-wader should be. By no means was she a weak swimmer - her build was lithe and with a little practice, she did as well as the average water-wader. The issue was far more hypercritical. Having held herself to a high standard of hunting (the one skill that Bear had no illusions of her expertise in), knowing that she failed to excel in the water-based hunting of her old-but-new home was at once foreign and frightening.
Almost all the prey she'd contributed to the Tribe during her belated-entry (not too long after the refuges from the clans, but separate all the same) were comprised of the birds found in the marshy regions of the territory. Some small fish had been caught, but they weren't easy and she wouldn't consider herself an expert in the field of fishing. Thus, where she was today.
Bear that Catches Fish was soaked. Dawn had yawned its way into late morning, and the brown molly had been swimming for some time. No prey - that wasn't the point of this particular excursion. She found herself running through the narrow gaps and streams as though weaving through an obstacle course of sorts. The goal was to familiarize herself with the motions in a way that hadn't been possible on the move. She was a fairly good hunter in most situations, but with the time to learn the territory, it became as natural as breathing. She darted in and out of nooks and crannies, a sliver of brown that disappeared from time to time dependant on where the observer sat. She slipped out of the stream with rivulets of water dripping from her sleek coat, the short, thick fur keeping the bracing chill of drying water from bothering her too much. With her muscles aching from the practice manuevers, the former loner decided it was about time to stretch out and take a break. Loathe though she was to remain idle, she had a few small scratches and recognized the importance of taking a break while working to master difficult terrain.
For now, Bear stretched out in the rising sun, letting the warming temperatures dry the water from her coat.
From the time she toddled about, destined to provide prey for her community, to the seemingly ages-long nomadic journey of her young adulthood, the memory of the Tribe remained. It tugged her heart and her loyalty away from the clans she had so briefly lived with, through whispered exchanges with the only other Tribe cat - and family - she had left. It soothed her aching paws as she wandered, alone but for the reminiscing of her home. There exists no land and no life she could lead where her heart and soul did not belong with the Tribe. No title - apprentice, warrior, loner, rogue - could strip her of that connection. Bone deep and woven into her essence, the fact that a version of the Tribe remained was more than she ever could have hoped for.
There were some key differences, however, and Bear was loathe to admit it but ... she wasn't nearly as strong a swimmer as a water-wader should be. By no means was she a weak swimmer - her build was lithe and with a little practice, she did as well as the average water-wader. The issue was far more hypercritical. Having held herself to a high standard of hunting (the one skill that Bear had no illusions of her expertise in), knowing that she failed to excel in the water-based hunting of her old-but-new home was at once foreign and frightening.
Almost all the prey she'd contributed to the Tribe during her belated-entry (not too long after the refuges from the clans, but separate all the same) were comprised of the birds found in the marshy regions of the territory. Some small fish had been caught, but they weren't easy and she wouldn't consider herself an expert in the field of fishing. Thus, where she was today.
Bear that Catches Fish was soaked. Dawn had yawned its way into late morning, and the brown molly had been swimming for some time. No prey - that wasn't the point of this particular excursion. She found herself running through the narrow gaps and streams as though weaving through an obstacle course of sorts. The goal was to familiarize herself with the motions in a way that hadn't been possible on the move. She was a fairly good hunter in most situations, but with the time to learn the territory, it became as natural as breathing. She darted in and out of nooks and crannies, a sliver of brown that disappeared from time to time dependant on where the observer sat. She slipped out of the stream with rivulets of water dripping from her sleek coat, the short, thick fur keeping the bracing chill of drying water from bothering her too much. With her muscles aching from the practice manuevers, the former loner decided it was about time to stretch out and take a break. Loathe though she was to remain idle, she had a few small scratches and recognized the importance of taking a break while working to master difficult terrain.
For now, Bear stretched out in the rising sun, letting the warming temperatures dry the water from her coat.