the zen of autumn fishing

Theodoric Martin · 10-17-2010, 03:15 AM

[html]

ooc... private for Sanuye; set at the Adagio Creek
(wc: 377)

After a tenday in AniWaya, the packlands were beginning to feel like home. Still, Theodoric expected it would be some time before he could wander the woodland trails with the same carefree abandon with which he had navigated the streets of Edinburg. Negotiating street corners and finding one’s the way through woodlands were tasks with completely different natures; but fortunately Theodoric found that he was not one to easily lose his way. It helped, of course, that the weeks on the road had left him with a little residual wanderlust; this ensured that a long walk through the territory was included somewhere in his daily routine.

Today, Theo found himself with an idle afternoon. He had just returned home after a visit to the stables, where he’d brought treats for his ponies Duncan and Suthen. The duo may or may not have been happy to see him – it was always hard to tell with equines – but they nibbled on the apple slices he brought with alacrity. Although Liliana had taken over the bulk of the ponies’ care, Theodoric still took the time to groom them both thoroughly. This was as much for his benefit as theirs.

He had intended to work at one of his looms after visiting the stables, but for some ineffable reason, Theodoric found the quiet of his hut unbearable. The Gatlvska possessed a great deal of discipline, and he could have forced himself to remain at his work. He would have been unhappy, however, wasting away a perfectly exquisite fall afternoon indoors. Plenty of time for sitting later, when the winter winds blew.

A half-hour later, Theodoric was on the banks of the Adagio Creek, wrestling with a large stick nearly as tall as he was, a length of line, and a fishhook. He had acquired the hooks from a sailor he’d befriended on the Atlantic crossing. Theo had become a decent fisherman, but still struggled to properly thread and weight the fishhooks. Odd, that the weaver would be having problems with what was, essentially, a piece of string. ”Aha!” he finally exclaimed, triumphant. The line was tightly tied to both hook and pole. Now to find a bit of bait, a comfortable spot to wait, and maybe – if he was lucky – dinner.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?