smooth criminal!

[Hawke Van Aslan]

OOC: Open to anyone! (:

The fat silver fish was but a metallic flash in the murky waters of the ocean. One moment he saw it; the next it was gone, so swiftly that he wondered if his eyes were simply playing tricks with his mind. He floated motionlessly for a moment, his sea-green eyes straining for another glimpse of the fish. He was three metres below the surface, entirely submerged in water so cold even he - with his thick, two-layered pelt - had to suppress a shiver. He turned his head almost imperceptibly to the left, and - there. He saw another flash of silver scales. The young King of the Vagues took off in pursuit, his webbed paws and rudder-like tale propelling him after his prey. The fish changed direction quicker than his eyes could follow, and Hawke struggled after it, his legs kicking furiously. Though his Vague body was adapted to survival in the seas, even he could not hope to compete with the biological advantages of a fish. What he did have, however, was intelligence – and very, very sharp teeth.

The fish led him on a zigzagging path through the water, spinning and swirling like a hideous ballerina. Hawke could feel his body straining for more oxygen – his gills were insufficient to provide the O₂ necessary for a prolonged chase – and he suddenly flung himself at the fish with grim resolution. His teeth snapped shut on the fish’s tail – and then it was gone, darting just out of his reach. It seemed to be mocking him, laughing at his slow, hairy body and awkward limbs, and demonstrating its own superiority. Hawke’s eyes hardened. He stretched out a paw – slowing his speed noticeably – and buffeted the fish savagely, pushing it towards his body. The fish rolled from the force, its mouth moving in silent screams. Then he snatched it up in his jaws, killing it in one swift blow. Unfriendly and unsociable he was, but cruel he was not. He was old enough to know not to play with his food. With the now-limp fish dangling from his jaws, Hawke swum further underwater towards the outer wall of the pack territory, and burst through the narrow entrance into the enormous, magic-made air bubble that the Vagues called home.

His lungs were almost singing with relief as he inhaled his first breath of air – cold, sea-scented air. The sand beneath his paws was warm and welcoming, a far cry from the harsh ocean beyond the outer wall. He strode away from the entrance to the far side of the dome, where he could watch the comings and goings of his pack in peace. Then he shook the fish furiously, like a terrier to a rat, until most of the salty sea water had flown from its scales. He plopped his prey down on the sand, and licked his lips hungrily. Dinner was served!

[( mizu kyroshire ! )]

The slender, willowy femme had been watching the male for a long time. Not in a weird, stalkerish way, but simply because she was bored, and it amused her that he was completely oblivious to the fact that she was paddling around fifty yards behind him. Her icy blue eyes pierced the fogginess of the water, and she caught sight of what the Alpha male's gaze was locked upon. A silvery fish. She had no interest in it, seeing as she wasn't hungry, but he certainly had other ideas for the scaled creature. As he propelled after it, she swam after them, slowly, but still keeping them in sight. The fish sped up, and after a while it looked like it was going to escape the grasp of the brute.

All the while, Mizu remained silent, her gaze fixed upon the wolf, waiting to see what would occur.

Finally, it seemed like the male got his jaws around the fish, because he snapped them shut and spun around, swimming back towards the beach. Mizu hovered around a while, until he had been out of sight for about thirty seconds, before paddling after him, hauling herself up onto the solid ground and shaking herself dry. She looked over to see her Alpha moving away from the shoreline, observing the scenery before him lackadaisically, with his fish lying at his paws. She studied him apprehensively for a moment, wondering whether to approach him. Hawke wasn't the most friendly of wolves at the best of times, but she was his freaking second hand, if she couldn't approach him, nobody can. So she strolled forward, her long slender legs carrying her forward. Her silvery pelt shone in the sunlight and her ice blue eyes locked onto his facade as she stood severel metres before him.

"Good afternoon, Hawke."