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.

no worries! (wc: 412)

After the battle to get the line attached to both hook and pole, finding bait was a relatively simple process. Theodoric hummed with satisfaction when he finally settled himself on a comfortable outcropping next to the water’s edge. Below, the creek rolled by clear and steady, the perfect place to try to eke out a little dinner. The new Gatlvska wasn’t a practiced fisherman, and had little hope in actually catching anything this fine afternoon. He enjoyed the process more than anything: the sweet frustration of threading hook and line, the gurgling water slowly smoothing out the river rocks, the shining sun and the lazy birdsong. A fish on the line was the icing on the proverbial cake.

He was very surprised when a curly-haired luperci stepped out of the forest with a fishing pole of her own. She found a spot slightly downstream from his and silently went about her business. Theodoric generally liked having company, but was unsure what to make of her silence. There were many reasons for a woman to ignore a man --she could be stuck up or playing coy; she could be genuinely introverted or merely shy. Generally, he had little interest in deciphering the motives of young women, especially one so bent on ignoring him. Yet Theodoric was a social creature at heart, and he did not want to be labeled as taciturn by his new packmates.

In the end, he decided that the younger fisherwoman was simply shy, and that was a trait he could deal with. He had introverted younger sisters and plenty of shy nieces, after all. So for a while the brown haired, brown-eyed man focused on his line bobbing merrily in the creek’s gentle current and let the sounds of the forest claim the conversation. Theodoric didn’t look up to see if he was being studied, except when a branch in a tree above his head cracked alarmingly. He was about to break the quiet with a witty comment when his fishing pole gave a mighty lurch and nearly fell out of his hands. Theo let out a gleeful "Whoop!" that made him sound much younger than his six years. He hadn’t expected to get a bite so early in the afternoon. Theo flashed a grin at his silent companion, the first real acknowledgement he’d given her since she arrived. Then he focused on his fishing line with renewed interest, and began the delicate battle of bringing the fish to shore.

(wc: 301)

As mentioned previously, Theodoric wasn’t much of a fisherman. He had learned to wrangle with hook, line, and pole; he had even managed to find a few insects for bait. With an upbringing like his, even the waiting wasn’t so bad because he knew the value of patience. Theo’s problem, therefore, was what to do once the fish was finally on the line. He knew the basics: give the fish time to bite down on the hook; pull it in quickly, but not too quickly. Despite the frustration of losing fish, Theodoric did think his trouble was fair: the fish, after all, were fighting for their lives. He would expect no less from a rabbit or deer on a hunt.

This time, the fish had taken the bait but the hook had not lodged securely in its mouth. Theo pulled on the fishing line, the hook popped out, and the fish swam free. (Theo swore it flipped its tail once before it swam away just to sass him). “Drat,” he muttered, in an expletive milder than he felt. That was dinner that just got away. He was in the presence of a young lady, however, and he would mind his manners. Besides, the afternoon was still young. Maybe he would get lucky a second time.

He was casting about for more bait when his silent companion finally addressed him. “And she speaks!” he teased, his Scottish accent distinct in the autumn air, “Why so silent, madam? Your voice is as lovely as your smile.” Theodoric hoped to use humor to set the young woman at ease; he hoped the not-so-subtle flattery would not have the opposite effect instead. He chattered away, hoping to push the conversation forward. “Please, th’ name’s Theodoric. Have you had any luck fishing, miss?”

A dozen apologies for the delay. NaNoWriMo kinda ate my November.
Also, I love how awkward and awesome this thread is! XD (wc: 288)

Theodoric acknowledged that he may have over-done the flattery a little bit. The curly-haired coyote was clearly very shy, and by complimenting her he had only increased her embarrassment. And clearly, she was embarrassed: even with fur, a fellow would have to be blind to not see the blush on her cheeks. Retrospectively, an attitude like his coming from a well-liked uncle is one thing; coming from a complete stranger is another. He sighed softly to himself, a half-breath that was barely audible. Here, there were amends to be made. “I apologize if I spoke out of turn, Miss Sanuye. I meant no harm.” He struggled to pronounce the foreign name correctly, but thought he did a passable job. Theodoric only hoped his apology didn’t embarrass her more.

He brightened in an effort of will to shoo the awkward moment away, as one might sweep dust under a rug. “It is a lovely day for fishing, isn’t it?” A rather bland question, but no topic was a safer icebreaker than the discussion of the weather. Theodoric returned his concentration to finding another insect for bait, both for the purpose of renewing his fishing and to give the blushing younger woman a break from the eye contact a conversation generally brings. He filled the silence while he lifted nearby rocks and half-rotted logs, looking for a likely worm. “Have you had any luck fishing? I got a bite, but clumsy me let the fish get away. It was a nice one, and it took my bait, too…” Theodoric’s strongly accented voice trailed off as he located a chubby grub. The insect was unpleasant to look at, but he hoped that to a fish it would look like dinner.

and again, apologies for the delay D: wc: 321

Apology accepted or not, in the end all was forgiven and the fishing could continue. Theodoric was generally grateful for this. He disliked awkwardness and felt bad that he had been the cause of it. Also, as relaxing as the process of fishing tended to be, Theodoric did hope to bring home a fish or two for the dinner table. For one thing, he enjoyed the taste of fish; for another, he had found a few sweet-smelling late summer herbs that wouldn’t keep much longer. Theodoric had already tested them on yesterday’s hare with some success, but he thought fish would be better. Furthermore, he had an audience now, albeit a slightly unwilling, shy one. The Gatlvska didn’t have a lot of manly pride, but the pride he had dictated that now would be a really good time to successfully catch a whole lot of really big fish. Stylishly.

“I hope so,” he replied, carefully threading the unfortunate grub onto his hook, “There isn’t a whole lot of daylight left.” A couple hours at most, and the temperature would begin to drop sooner. Still, there was time enough, Theodoric thought as he cast the baited line back into the water. He no sooner had settled than he saw Sanuye pull up, a fish clearly on her line. Smiling at her luck, he wedged his pole securely between a rock and a fallen log, and went over to watch. “Nice and easy now,” he muttered more to himself than to her, willing the young woman success in bringing the fish to shore.

The other AniWayan was still fighting with fish and line when Theodoric saw his own fishing rod give a dangerous lurch. Startled, he lunged for the pole and grabbed it just as it began to fall into the stream. From then on, he could spare Sanuye neither an audience nor advice – he had his own small, private battle to fight.