She's waiting like an iceburg
#5
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There was an area a little closer to the whelp that she could fish from, maybe...one that wasn't quite as deep. She sank down into the water, starting back across the river. The current was pulling at her harder this time, and her limbs were already tired; she was pulled away from him a little bit, and ended up coming ashore much farther downstream. Once her paws touched the sand she was walking toward the younger one, tail held at a friendly, comfortable position.

She could answer his question now that she was getting her breath back, and did so, sitting down a few feet away from him. People had personal boundaries; she had no desire to get too close. I think they're confused. There are a few rocks down there, I think, and the fish don't know what to do. The rocks are almost sticking out of the water--maybe they think they need to jump over to get through" She looked back to that section of the river, where the silver was still flashing in the sun. "I'm not sure if they really want to be eaten...but why not take advantage of it? Your parents would be happy if you brought something as big as a carp or salmon home with you--and they won't know how easy it was to get them"
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