Gilded Bay Waiting for the tune of some old dying man

She followed willingly, obediently, clearly pleased that she had found a willing companion. Bracing herself against the cold, she followed after, moving swiftly along the slick rocks. It was not so different from navigating icy terrain, or a mountainside during a spring storm.

At the mention of learning something, Muses burst out lauging, tail arching high over her back. "It's that obvious I'm no good at fishing?" She exclaimed, trailing after. Ideally, she would have preferred to run down her prey, but she was in no condition to do such thing. The protruding teats made her feel clumsy and off-balance, and would ache if she ran too quickly or trotted for too long.