ORIGIN - alone on a friday night

A shoal of fish—some nondescript Lesser breed, despite its fair size—wound their way down the lazy river. They dodged the bed's stones in nimble twists of a fin or tail, barely making an extra splash. Silvery scales glinted in unison with the water's surface. Only those with a set of well-rested and keen eyes would be able to easily snare one. The meaty hand coming to meet an unfortunate individual did not fulfill that first adjective.

It glanced off a slick side, and its owner nearly overbalanced and fell into the river. Scrabbling limbs flung the fish to the side, exposing it in the shallowest part. Gills flared as it gasped for air and thrashed to get back into the water.

Orthoclase-Alpha grunted sharply as it raised its hand again, barely catching the fish mid-flop. Claws barely skimmed it, but the slamming motion was enough to stun it. The monstrous hybrid then picked it up, set it in its mouth, bit hard enough to have it breathe its last, and plodded out of the river.

Swaying back onto dry land, it spat the Lesser out and just... stared at it.

It might have been described before as being "[a] fair size," but that had not been in comparison to its predator. The thing maybe measured a foot and a half from end to end, and couldn't have been more than fifteen pounds—not at all a suitable meal.

... nor something for Alpha contemplate if it had the wherewithal to eat. All it'd take was one snap of the jaws, but it was hesitating over an empty stomach clawing at itself. Claws fidgeted and tore at the earth, and it threw one glance over its shoulder—scanning the "horizon"—before settling itself onto its rear end and continuing to tunnel-vision on the fish.

Dull-glowing quills lay absolutely still while it was in a strange mental limbo of psyching itself up to eat it and worrying about the aftermath and why couldn't it keep anything down? There was hardly a sign of life while it sat there.

@Attikias

Sounds of intense splashing had caught Attikias's attention. He'd wandered out here in half-curiosity, wanting to see if anything had happened while he was gone, but he'd grown distracted by simply taking in how beautiful Cepheus was.

Don't get him wrong, he liked Eridanus. It had nothing on the palace forest, though, and he nearly imagined it would be nice for his family to move here. But, it'd be a lot, and they'd established themselves in the jungle, and the jungle itself was a bit more safer than the sparse trees here.

No matter. Back to the noise, Attikias had meandered his way as Alpha continued to stare at the fish, stopping once the beast was in view. Was that Alpha? Attikias squinted from a distance before jogging to stand a bit closer. He wasn't in its personal bubble, per say, but he was close enough to watch.

... What was it doing? Adjusting his satchel that hung from his shoulder, Attikias cleared his throat, stepping in closer. "Uhh- hey, are you okay?" The beast looked... Desolate. Didn't it like fruit? Attikias swallowed nervously as he glanced to the fish, laying there, dead. "Um- if you're not in the mood for fish, I can make you some bananas or something."

As much as he was uneasy around it, it'd be better to care for it rather than let it look so depressed.

@Orthoclase-Alpha

The ligaments of its neck popped as it swung its skull upwards. Viridescent eyes fixed hard on Attikias, and it stumbled up to its feet. It practically puffed up, then—plastering on the façade of composure and low-simmering, monstrous fury. The exhaustion was almost immediate, but it stuck to it—

—and backed away from the fish.

Its head tilted maybe two or three degrees down, eyes tracking further; they locked onto the fish. In a brilliant moment of fight-or-flight response, Alpha lurched forward and snared a fin (much like a cat lunges out of hiding from underneath a couch to steal food.) A toss of the head, and it'd swallowed the Lesser.

The nausea was instantaneous.

But, it gathered itself up, as best as it could; it shuffled its shoulders, poorly simulating the aggressive rattle of quills. Claws flexed, and it unintentionally took the defensive squaring-up-and-seeming-large position. All four eyes—dull and sunken—narrowed to slits.

"'m fine," it spat, hoping there was enough bite behind it.

There probably wasn't; not with it looking torn between standing its ground and fleeing at the drop of a hat.

@Attikias