December 6, 2004
Lark tries to teach herself to spearfish.
Sitting on the side of the river, Lark moved her legs through the water. While she moved her legs back and forth she stared at her feet through the water. A bundle of ropes were lying beside her and her hair was dripping with water. She had been fishing with her trusty net once again, and though she enjoyed the water greatly, she felt that she'd been sticking to one medium for too long.
She moved her eyes to the net and pulled half of it up a bit in an annoyed manner and sighed, as if saying, 'Look at it, what am I supposed to do with that? Yes, sure I can 'fish' with it, but there are other things to fish with, I know there are.' Rolling her eyes and letting out another sigh, she put her hand next to her and bent her back slightly, balancing on the edge of the river. She was a good enough swimmer but she hadn't done much of it lately until recently.
Lately she'd been feeling quite useless. She'd lost the inspiration for her songs and felt there was something she had to do. Seeing her tribe mates grow and learn new things; it was almost as if she was left behind, her skills were here and she wouldn't be able to change or learn anymore. Well she'd show them wrong, that was for sure! She could learn just like everyone else; even better, she'd teach herself!
With a determined look on her face she stood up, splashing water all over the spot she had been sitting at and grabbed her leathers. She put her clothes on as she strode toward the holt and toward her den. Running into her lifemate Foxears didn't make her slow down even a notch. She walked on in pure determination, not even noticing her him.
"Woah! Where are you going so quickly?" Foxears remarked as he grinned and followed Lark to their den. A smile from ear-to-ear came over his face but was soon brushed off as he saw the song shaper's look. 'No fun for me, I'm beginning to think.'
"I'm not going anywhere," Lark answered in a steady tone as she ducked into the den. "And don't you forget that!" She stormed out of the den with her spear in hand. Foxears was left behind alone, feeling rather confused.
The determined look hadn't wavered as she walked through the holt, and every elf that saw her and took any notice of her couldn't help grinning, but that didn't stop her.
She made her way back to the river; she'd walked the way so many times by now that she could probably walk it in her sleep if she had to. She flopped down beside the net that she had left there and looked at the water thoughtfully.
Scanning the water silently she drew a deep breath and stood up, removing her leathers. 'No need to get those wet,' she thought to herself and grabbed her spear off the ground.
With a grace that was her own completely, Lark dove into the water, getting used to the temperature again just as she had mere moments ago. Her hair hadn't even dried before she had gone back in the water, which was a small comfort because at least that kept her slightly chilly.
She seemed to float in the water as it flowed past, moving her legs to stay in the same place in the current of the river. One thing she knew was when you started something new you should never start rashly but take your time and so she did. She'd seen Firemoss and Duskwater do it many times before; it didn't seem so hard, it really didn't. She had to be able to at least catch one fish that night, right?
The spear still in her hand, she scanned the surface of the water for any life, any life whatsoever, but she couldn't seem to find a single fish that was willing to swim high enough for her too see and catch. 'No problem, I'll just go down myself then; Firemoss does it all the time, it can't be that hard. I'm determined; I can do this. Yes, sure I can.' Giving herself a little pep-talk Lark smiled and squinted her eyes slightly for any sign of a fish, any fish at all.
As moments passed by she gave up on scanning for the fish, drew a deep breath and dove under water, spear in hand.
Underwater the pale moonlight caught patches of light on the rocks at the bottom of the river. The waves above her made ripples and dark spots between the concentrations of light but overall there was enough light to be able to glance through the water with ease. She spotted a small group of fish up ahead in the stream. A small smile crossed her lips and she tightened her right hand, the hand that was holding her spear.
'Come on fishy-fishy,' she thought to herself with a sly smile as they sped down the stream. The song shaper threw her spear at them - she'd seen the other spearfishers do it eights and eights of times, it had to work. Although the spear had a nice speed and went to its target in a nice arc, it missed the target, which had just swam by, and was taken by the stream. Being made mainly of wood, the spear floated on the water and with the speed of the river floated downward.
"Aah! Oh no you don't!" Lark called out as she dove into the water.
'That's my favourite spear, too! It's not going to be much of a fishing attempt if I loose my spear in the first try!' With strong strokes she tried to catch up with the spear that, in turn, got stuck on some roots that had found their way from the shore into the clear water so they could absorb moisture better.
Lark had been so caught up in trying to gain as much speed as she could that she didn't even notice the spear stuck between the roots until she swam right past it.
"Whoa!" she exclaimed, gulping down the mouthful of water that had, at the same time, streamed in.
Coughing, she stopped herself on a few rocks and took hold of the shore with one hand, holding the other to her mouth as she coughed loudly.
Any animal that was around had most likely fled by now from the incredible noise she was making. Good for her that none were near the river that night or else it would have been easy for everyone to spy on her attempts to teach herself spearfishing. And what a ludicrous attempt it had been so far.
Still coughing, Lark leaned on the shore. The spear was only a few hand lengths upstream from her, still balancing nicely on the roots where it ended up, seemingly mocking her. Or at least so Lark thought. With a deep frown she glared at the spear.
"Stupid wooden stick," she muttered.
When she finally caught her breath again she waded through the water on the shallowest part of the river, not breaking her stride, or her glare at the spear. With a strong movement she jerked the spear from the roots.
Well, that was the plan.
Some of the roots were still stuck on the spear and as she jerked it up she pulled them with her. With a low growl she pulled the roots off the spear and sat down on the shore panting, her brows hanging low and menacing.
Lark sat on the shore, the water dripping off her glinting in the moonlight; her boiling blood calming down. Contemplating her technique, she let a sigh escape her lips. 'It's no use throwing, the river current will just take it as if it were hers. But then what do I do? I've seen them swimming before; swimming I can do. But won't the fish notice you?' Setting her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand she looked at the seemingly gentle streaming water of the river. 'Well fish, better watch out, there's a new fisher here and I'm not stopping until I catch you, or the daystar rises, whichever comes first.' With that thought the song shaper stood up, spear in hand and chin high. Now she was ready. Now she'd succeed.
Or so she thought.
Sure enough, the swimming went easily for her; she had done it a great many times before. Swimming with a spear after a single fish was different, though. If she were the one sitting on the shore watching her own fruitless efforts she would have claimed it to be a waste of time and effort. Yet this was one strong-headed learner and she had set out to learn this, for that reason alone she'd keep going.
The first school of fish had scattered as soon as she had tried to come near them. Not quick enough to pick one to follow, she glanced left and right and by that time they were already too far gone to follow. 'Drat!' she cursed to herself as she went up for some air.
The second attempt wasn't as bad.
This time she chased a single fish that swam off course. She lost sight of the fish after a few moments, but at least this time she had chased one.
The look of determination that had been clear in her features before took over again as she swam upstream and downstream, chasing fish after fish after fish.
Slowly the daystar started rising. The swimming song shaper had so far failed in catching a single fish. The look of determination was replaced with a look of irritation instead.
She hadn't been able to help but growl or scream every time she failed at catching a single fish.
With a gasp she came to the surface again for air and had to squint her eyes as she was met by the light of the rising daystar. She grumbled to herself and wasn't willing to even admit to herself what she knew was true.
With a cranky look on her face she swam to the shore and pulled herself up on it. As she sat on the shore she glared at the water as if it was her worst enemy.
'I didn't even catch one,' she thought to herself, admitting what she didn't want to know.
Still with the look of crankiness on her face she got dressed and walked back to the holt as she mumbled to herself.
"I'm going to be needing help."