Creepy Crawlers of the Sea

Anatoliy Russo · 01-01-2012, 08:14 PM

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Set sometime in the afternoon near the shore.

Unfortunately for the pack he called home, Anatoliy was not there that day to handle any matters, nor could he keep his beloved company. Well, the man was not in demand but he still liked to be reachable by anyone who needed him. However, this was a mission of utmost importance to him. He had to do it and it was a matter only he would deal with. While plenty of others were better at foraging and scavenging compared to his skills, but he was the only one who knew what it was to look for. He wanted crab and lobster cages to find and replicate for the pack. Any additional source of food during the summer months would not go amiss, nor would anything to bolster the stock during winter's months of plenty game. Plus it would keep the Russo busy in a pack he had no business in other than supporting his Luna, his Anann. As much as he felt like an outsider to the pack of warriors, he still wanted to help in any way he could. And Anatoliy was only good at a few things, and most of those revolved around the sea and her bounties.

The boat was safely stored in a shack by the sea on the land's territory, so it was safe from greedy hearts and sticky fingers. But the man took his fishing gear as well as lengths of rope. He sought to find lobster traps to copy later on, and the rope was to secure them together on his return trip. The fishing line and bait was for a break during the day and a way to get an easy meal while he searched old sea-side piers and homes. It was going to be hard, especially since Anatoliy didn't expect much. Oh, he should have taken a few samples from Lunenberg before he and Anann left the kingdom. Hitting himself for his lack of foresight, the Russo sat himself at a pier and looked out at the rolling expanse of water. He could make out the other side of the bay, a dark mass across the water. He knew it was Inferni land, from what Silas had told him months and months ago. Anatoliy could go no further, and this was the best he could do.

Sighing in resignation, the Russo secured a length of fishing line to the rotting pier. He wished he had a bell or something so he could know if he hooked a fish or not. Despite that, he secured several hooks to the line with fat worms on the hooks to lure the fish. Hopefully a few fish would bite. If he was lucky, all five hooks would have some sea fish attached. A meal of roasted fish sounded wonderful, but the man had to look while he waited. Leaving the pier behind, he headed toward the nearest sea-side shack, eager to find something of use to him and his pack.

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