Fish fry!
#8
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<3 no problem at all!


Denver was watching the fire closely where he sat, and when the Russian woman warned him not to make it too large, he sat back to let it be. Pale eyes stared into the flames, enjoying the warmth. Floppy ear twitched at the sound of the splash, and his head turned instinctively to look, despite knowing it was just the gross fish head she'd tossed. He nodded in agreement, hoping that she would indeed catch many more fish this evening. She was skilled at this, he could tell, and was glad to be able to enjoy a prepared meal. Denver knew, of course, how to toss a hunk of meat over a fire, but little more than that. Most of the time, he chose to ate smaller, more frequent meals to avoid having to go into any of the messy details of larger game.


He couldn't help but chuckle at her suggestion, glancing towards her as she deftly fileted the meat. Him, a sailor? Oh, no. He was far too comfortable on land to spend any unnecessary length of time on or in the water. "No, definitely not a sailor," he said with a laugh. "I just, er..." he paused, the words catching in his throat. He shook his head. "I can't swim too well, that's all," he said with a shrug. He wouldn't admit that the water made him anxious and nervous, or that it was one of his few weaknesses. Instead, he stared at the flames, prodding a log back into place with his foot.


The doggish Family member observed in silence as she prepared the fish and set it over the fire, listening too as she spoke of it's preparation. Denver loved the taste of smoked foods, and licked his lips at the thought. "Smoked is just fine by me." As she sat beside him, Denver studied the meat as it began to smoke, the scent filling his nostrils and making him salivate hungrily.


Her father, she mentioned, and his pale gaze flickered to her, watching as he face fell, full of sadness. Denver didn't know her name, he realized, and couldn't really sympathize with her either. Once, he had been close with his parents. But they had betrayed him; his sisters were more loved. He didn't think about them anymore. "I'm sorry," he said, unsure, "where is he?"


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