INFATUATION MEANS EVACUATION ☆ spear fishing

[dallas.]

Spearfishing. Fucking spearfishing? Dallas wasn't sure where the hell Miller had pulled this task from, but he hadn't been happy when he had heard it. Not only was he shit at hunting or fishing of any kind, but the canine had never even attempted spearfishing ever before. Still, it wasn't as if it was the most complex thing in the world, so he could get a handle on it. Or rather, he had to get a handle on it. It wasn't as if he could just not do the task. So, the canine had set out to gather the supplies that Miller had suggested, scouring the junkyard while trying his damnedest not to tear up at the unpleasant smells that came with it. Thankfully for him, before long he was able to find an old, sharp, rusted hook, which seemed to be large enough to serve as a pretty good sharp end of the spear. Through a bit more scouring, Dallas was also able to find what looked to have once been part of a walking stick to serve as the handle. After a little bit more searching – this time around the significantly less stinky town – Dal was able to find the last part he needed, a bit of twine to tie it all together. Sure, when it was done, Dallas's spear didn't look like the most high end or high tech thing in the world, but it was functional, and that was all it needed to be. Confident he could at least attempt to catch something now, the canine grasped the spear up in his mouth, and trotted off towards the docks Miller had suggested.

When he arrived, Dallas tried his best to remember what he had heard before about hunting fish. You didn't want to lean forward too much, since if your shadow was over the water, it would spook the fish. You also needed to be quiet, and very, very patient. All of these things were directly against how Dal was as a person, but he really didn't want a repeat of that whole hunting incident, so he was going to legitimately try this time. Perching himself at the edge of the dock, Dal looked on from above, grateful that he was somewhat able to make out the shapes of fish in the murky water. He made especially sure to angle his shadow away from the water, and settled in, clenching the spear tightly between his paws as he got comfortable. It might be a while before something got close. Before long, Dal began to feel border with the position, digging his claws absently in and out of the handle of the spear as he waited for a fish to get close enough. As his eyelids began to droop, he heavily considered just saying fuck it to the entire thing, but then... a large fish got in close. Before he could process what he was doing, the famine shot forward, slamming the spear down on the creature below. And... he was actually successful. A grin split over his muzzle as he lifted the spear up, seeing a very large green scaled fish skewered on the hook, still faintly twitching. His side was absolutely fucking killing him from darting forward like that, but he still found himself mumbling, "Hell yeah. Take that, you fuckin' fish."