wasn't wise.

"Though fish may be an easy treat for some, on occasion they can prove dangerous. The fin of the fish you have caught cuts you."

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She was rather surprised to find a stream of fish within the mountains. In truth she didn't look close enough, thinking they were too shallow to store any and hadn't seen any previously.. Yet much to her surprise she had seen one through itself into the air on an attempt to catch a lazy bug, and rose her head high to the side, before promptly leading to the stream itself. Gazing in, could she see them — though small, nothing large enough to truly be of use, and yet..

She could use some practice, not actually hunting too much fish. Not knowing either, she wasn't really sure how to get upon it. Ara was patiently sitting on the side of so, watching them in silence while thinking of what to do.. And with a haste did she dive into it's shallow, where the water splashed and so did the startled fish. Her fangs clacking as she tried to grab within the air and instead of grabbing, she missed by narrow margins and it —

cut her cheek.

As it fell to the river, so did the small droplets of red.

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Hydra observed from the near distance. She blended well with the shadows that were cast over her, though Ara may have yet detected her. Hydra did not work to obscure herself; she detested hot Summer days, and preferred the later hours. She briefly idled by the stream in an effort to cool herself, and it was then she observed Ara approach.

It was not too long before her daughter struck. The scent of blood was quick to make it to her, and Hydra knew it to be her daughters; rising, she shook out her furs before making way to her side. Hydra did not yet look to Ara, seeking the very thing that had made her bleed. Ara had gotten her own blow in, and Hydra waited a beat—anticipating where it would next go—before striking herself.

She herself dropped it between her own forelegs, but was quick to step over it to inspect her daughter with quiet sniffs. The matriarch wondered if it was the sharper scales of the fish that caught her, or the rocks.

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Ara narrowed her gaze and looked at the fish that now laid dead before the Matriarch's paws. She wasn't displeased that her mother caught it, but she was more irritated how she was caught failing to catch the fish and looking weak. Especially as the cut upon her cheek bled lightly, and her mother inspected ; she would lick the chin of her to assure she was fine, just minorly scratched before squinting back at the fish.

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Hydra looked to her daughter, assessing all was well. It had indeed been the fish to wound her, and Hydra merely rumbled, “some prey of ours have such defense mechanisms. This is the way I learned, too,” she hummed, thinking there no shame in it. How else would she succeed the next time? How would she know better? “The next one will not get past you,” she drawled, eyes dark. Hydra pushed the fish toward Ara to eat, if she wished; Hydra had no appetite for it then and there.

There were other things she had a taste for.

Things to speak of today, to put into her daughters mind to think on, too. Ara had proven herself to be a strong girl. Driven, tenacious. All qualities Hydra had hoped for in a daughter. None but for Ara and Nysa had ever made her so consistently proud. There were two others that had come close, and Hydra remembered her own hopes for them.

She liked to think they were accomplishing such hopes beyond her scope of sight.

“Have you come across anything interesting, lately?” She wondered with a drawl. Ara's freedoms had expanded; she wondered what Ara was discovering, in the world beyond. Now, the girl could be her eyes and ears outside this sphere... and Hydra hoped for more than that, though time would tell if Ara would meet those expectations. First, to make sure Ara was as capable as she believed.

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Another day to fish, another day to master such technique. Ara would remember her mothers words and take note of their more fined edges. She licked the wound lightly, the bleeding had already stopped for it was only a surface cut. It was better to attempt a more low-blow, a place where weakened just as wolves were — to the stomach. Maybe during that time her mother could see her hunt well instead of this poorly done one, that was left in a minor shame.

At least moved on from the topic, she sat and licked her paw lightly, swipping it behind her ear, "I have noticed many loners around the territories," thinking about the cove and Ripperwood, "but I have not met any."

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