Word Count → 455
Neela found herself with a small smile on her face as Wayne responded, though this time a genuine one. Neela had long known that her mood was directly linked to how busy she kept herself and in terms of cheering herself up a friendly conversation, especially about a subject that she enjoyed like fishing, was almost as good as dancing.
Neela didn’t audibly respond to Wayne's statement, instead just giving him a smile, growing ever wider, and a grateful nod at his graceful acceptance of her apology before she started fishing about in her largest belt pouch, speaking as she did so. "A bit of lunch sounds good to me, don’t think my pa- HAH! Didn't get my finger that time did ya, ya little bastard?" Neela had interrupted herself to gloat at the fishhook she had pulled out of her pouch. Neela's fingers were filled with small scars and calluses from constantly pricking and impaling her fingers on those hooks in her pouch.
With a cough Neela remembered she was talking to somebody and quickly coughed, setting the hook down on her knee before continuing, "Ahem. Anyway with the amount of stuff I'll be catching once I start trawling with my boat I doubt the pack will starve for a few fish we manage to catch," Neela's ear flicked to the side and her free hand darted out, deftly hooking one of the cooking fish from the fire and throwing it over to Wayne. "There, a little taste to get ya motivated. And you can be my test dummy in case it turns out they taste horrible or something" Neela finished the last sentence with a wink and a grin, feeling much better compared to her earlier state for the small conversation.
After a few more seconds Neela's hand emerged from the pouch again, this time holding a leather finger guard similar to hers and roll of line. The guard was built for a bigger finger than hers, it had been Julian's and was marked so by a small J inked onto it. The sight brought a small jolt of sorrow to Neela but she quickly brushed it away, the emotion only visible in her eyes for a split second as she stared at the guard before handing it, along with the line and hook, over to Wayne. "You hook the line here," She gestured to a small groove in the guard, "And then just flick it in. Got some bait here if you want it, though these fish seem pretty stupid." She was referring to the fact that her last fish had been caught with no bait; she had simply been throwing the hook into the river idly, not expecting to catch anything.
