Aristotle stalked across the forest floor, eyes trained on a tiny shrew skittering through the greenery. The ground was cold against his paw pads, a faint ache in the back of his mind. It was early morning, the sky having shed tears along the land in the form of dew clinging to blades of grass. His focus was set on the shrew, however, pupils drawn into slits of green. One step, two steps, he was slowly drawing closer to his prey, oh-so close to having a plump and delicious meal.
Until his paw landed on a twig. The shrew, now alerted, shot up in attention, beady eyes falling on the white tom before it darted away. Aristotle groaned, cursing himself for not being aware of his surroundings. He rolled his eyes and gave chase toward the shrew, determined to catch the prey he had spent the last half hour (not that he could tell time, for that was a two-leg concept, but still) stalking. His paws beat against the grass and dirt below with a soft thump every step, the sheer size of his paws making it easy to create noise.
As he neared the shrew, the tom bunched his haunches and attempted to run faster- despite it's little legs, the rodent was still far faster than he was. Interesting how that worked.
However, what he didn't notice was that the shrew was headed directly toward a river. A very cold, wet river. Aristotle, too caught up in his days-old hunger, finally launched himself toward the shrew only too be sent hurtling into the river. He flailed his paws wildly, the weight of his fur pulling him underneath the surface. Not to mention that he couldn't swim. And that he really hated water.
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Days like these were when Dante really missed the warmth of his home, with that cozy bed that felt like the softest feathers ever, and the fire that always crackled at a safe distance from him. Ah, what he wouldn't give to have something like that out in the forest! Instead, he burrowed himself deeper into his makeshift nest of leaves and twigs. The soft gurgling of the river nearby relaxed him, sending him into a peaceful daze.
His ear twitched at the rhythmic sound of something on the forest floor. What was that racket? Didn't they realize he was trying to get some rest over here? Dante mumbled something incomprehensible about beauty sleep and nuzzled his face deeper into the undergrowth.
Splash! Dante's head shot up. His sleep-addled brain took a few moments to process before he realized—that was the unmistakable sound of something falling into the river! A small part of him lamented the loss of some valuable sleep time, but the larger, more protective part of him wanted to go and check on things. Just in case.
Dante paused a moment to stretch and shake his head to clear out all of the fuzziness, then bounded over to the source of the noise. Lo and beyond, a flailing mess of white greeted him. "Woah!" he exclaimed, trotting along the riverbank to keep up. "Hey, don't panic, I'll help you out!" Who knew his odd fondness for water would end up being helpful? Without waiting a second longer, Dante plunged into the river. The piercing cold shocked him into stillness, but he recovered and swam to where he could still hear the splashing. He brought his head up above the surface and gasped out, shivering, "T-try g-grabbing onto me!"
Last edited by ameko; January 27th, 2023 at 05:33 PM.
Sputtering as water poured into his agape mouth, Aristotle felt panic seep in. Was he really going to die because of a shrew? It was almost unbelievable how absolutely bogus that type of death was. Was it truly his time to go? Drowning in some river he didn't even know existed until a few seconds ago? Being tripped into said river by what was meant to be his prey? Really, how stupid did he have to be to die like this? Aristotle would grimace and groan to himself if he wasn't preoccupied with the fact that water was quickly replacing the oxygen in his lungs.
As if blessed by whatever deities were watching over him, a dark figure plunged into the water, their voice calling out to the panicked tom. He reached out blindly, his eyes squinting against the burn of river water. Paws connecting to fur, Aristotle did his best to pull the other figure closer, gripping onto them the best he could with how slippery his paws were. Once he felt his grip was slightly more secure, the tom went mostly limp, knowing his full weight would be too difficult for anyone to carry on their own. Ready, he shut his eyes tight and held his breath, attempting to ignore the searing pain in his waterlogged lungs.
Maybe he should've thought this through a little bit more. Then again, Dante was never one for caution. As the white form grabbed onto him, the sudden weight added on top of his current struggle to stay afloat caused Dante to be dragged down into the water. Dante gasped involuntarily then coughed right after, a stream of bubbles flowing from his mouth.
Heavy—was all he could think as his lungs screamed for air and the river surrounding him felt like it was crushing every part of his being. Muscle memory kicked in and Dante tried to tread water like he was used to, although the extra weight made it feel like no matter how hard he tried to resurface, he just couldn't quite break free.
Finally, finally, he just barely managed to get his face above the water. Blinking droplets out of his eyes, Dante frantically looked around for the nearest riverbank. There—he spotted the shoreline close by, but before he could continue on, coughs racked his body and he hacked out water. The weight of that white tom threatened to drag him back down. Cold panic coursed through his body. This current setup was definitely not working out, what with this useless lump of cat clinging to him.
"You're gonna drown us both!" Dante sputtered, before his head dipped back under the surface.
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lio was here ♥
Last edited by ameko; January 27th, 2023 at 11:35 PM.
Aristotle, barely able to hear the other cat due to the blood rushing in his ears, managed to get his paws on the riverbed. Digging his claws in, he caught his footing and let go of the cat below him. And then he... stood up. In the river. That didn't even go up to his shoulders.
Oh.
Hm, interesting. He wasn't drowning at all. As a matter of fact, he wasn't even close to drowning, having panicked for zero reason. Although his eyes and lungs still burned, Aristotle turned his attention to the cat beside him. His ears flattened against his head, mind working to figure out what to do. Should he drag the other out? Should he just go to the shore and wait? Should he just stand there? Would it make the situation worse if he tried to help? He truly didn't know- it was as though he was frozen in place.
The lanky black she-cat was bored. That in and of itself was dangerous, for when Mamba was bored, she intentionally tried to instigate some kind of mischief to entertain herself. Usually hunting was enough to satiate her boredom, and if it wasn't for the fact that she had already caught herself a nice meal, and ate it too, she would have been doing that right now. However, considering she was rather comfortable with the amount of food she had just eaten, she didn't think it was quite worth it. What to do, what to do . . . Oh, what was that? The she-cat stopped in her tracks, ears swiveling as she heard something nearby. It sounded like . . . water splashing? That was odd. It wasn't particularly windy out at the moment, so there should be no reason that the water in the river should be splashing about.
Her curiously roused from the sounds, she trotted over towards the riverbank, where she could make out the words of another cat before she was within eyesight. "You're gonna drown us both!" Oh, now that was interesting. A rather mischievous smirk spread across her face as she continued on, and she came out onto the riverbank as a large white tom climbed halfway onto the riverbank before stopping, looking rather bewildered as he then glanced over at another cat who was floundering in the river.
Mamba found the whole scene utterly hilarious, and a choked laugh escaped her as she tried to hide it, her green eyes fairly glowing with amusement. "You just gonna stand there and let him drown?" She asked the white tom in a jovial voice. She sauntered over and gracefully jumped onto a branch that was overhanging the river. She walked out over the river and looked down at the floundering cat. She dipped down as if to help the poor tom, and she was well within reach to do so if she wanted, but instead she merely laid down on the branch, crossed her forelegs daintily, and looked down at him, her green eyes dancing with a wicked sense of mischief. "Cause I might, it's rather entertaining." She remarked, an upbeat, casual tone in her voice, as if engaging in a completely normal conversation.
Dante had never known relief quite like what he felt when that burden was finally gone. No longer being practically anchored to the riverbed, he fumbled around for a moment before righting himself and resurfacing. Now able to actually tread water, he sucked in some much needed air and reveled in the fact that he was still very much alive. Dante loved water, but not when he was at risk of drowning in it!
Caught up in the joy of breathing, he didn’t notice anything amiss until he blinked the water out of his eyes and saw something shifting in the corner of his vision. He glanced up and realized with a jolt that someone was on the branch above him. Since when had that cat been there?! Dante flailed backwards, splashing water in his wake. “Woah, don’t scare me like that,” he said after he had recovered. Treading water like this was beginning to get exhausting for his already tired limbs, so Dante made his way to the shallower part of the river so he could stand. He noticed that the white cat was near him, but it didn’t quite register in his mind just yet.
He caught his breath before saying, “I know how this looks, but I wasn’t the one who needed saving! That big lug of a cat…” Wait a minute. Dante zeroed back in on the statuesque white tom, narrowing his eyes. He was standing perfectly fine—like he hadn’t been about to drown at all. Dante blinked. “You could stand the wholetime?!”
The appearance of yet another cat could have scared Aristotle out of his fur. He flinched, looking up at the branch where the unfamiliar she-cat had decided to sit. Flattening his ears in embarrassment, Aristotle looked back and forth between the two, still frozen in place. Her words left a sense of discomfort in his chest, knowing that she was apparently entertained by the sight of a cat that was probably drowning.
"Uhh... I..." he began, only for the black tom to resurface and begin speaking, effectively cutting off whatever thought process he had begun to speak aloud. That is, if he had any sort of thought process. He swallowed through the lump in his throat, internally thankful that the cat wasn't drowning because of him. However, with the exclamation, Aristotle looked down at his paws then back to the other tom.
"O-Oh- uhm- maybe?" he responded dumbly, his voice strained, "I, uhm, didn't realize that the river wasn't as deep as I thought it was..."
Decisions of Destiny [Semi-Open]
