Two Rivers Isle a proper story
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#1
All Welcome 
Rolling for success in catching anything this whole thread, but she's not a fisher so I'm only going to accept 4 as a win. 1

It'd make sense to go north, toward the coast, if she wanted to escape the locusts' ruin— and Cypher does, because their destruction of all things green seems to have scared the herds off for days if not weeks. But she also knows that while the bugs weren't like to be there, there wasn't like to be much else, either. So, the Blackthorn-Phase has been making her way southward. Lucky, too, because she's thirsty and not five minutes ago she spotted the tell-tale glimmer of water up ahead. As she approaches the riverbank, sees the shine of scales moving under the water's surface, she realizes she hasn't seen much in the way of small game.

Fish and fowl seem to have benefited most from the swarm of bugs, able to feed on those tiny crunchy corpses. Cypher's one to prefer red meat, herself, and she's no hungrier than usual— but if her journey thus far has been any indication of what's to come, she better take what she can get. She exhales, golden eyes skeptical as she peers into the water and wonders how she's supposed to hunt fish.
gods ain’t gonna help you, son
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#2
Some god must have damned this place, Cash thinks to himself. He’s not that worried, wandering deeper into the stricken territories, calmly observing the devastated foliage and taking note of the game tracks leading very much away. That’s the reason, though, that he’s not worried. As a loner, there was nothing tying him down—with no pack or place to call his own, he was welcome to follow them if the hunger got bad enough. So for now he’s something of a grim observer. He’s passed several areas claimed by packs, so he knows that this place is thick with wolves trying to cut out a living from this little parcel of earth. In a twisted way, he thinks it might be interested to watch everything start to go to hell.
 
For the most part he’s been wandering along waterways. He’d had similar thoughts—the water and the fish were the ones least affected by the destruction of all of the greenery, so there’d be more luck catching fish for a while than trying to find some land-game still not quite wised up to what was going on in this neck of the woods. It’d led him even further west, wading across the shallowest part of a stream, though the frigid water still bit all the way up towards his belly. After that he’d taken some time to hunker down and try to warm up, partially dozing, thinking about how long it’d been since he ate and trying to figure out what the plan was going to be for that.
 
The wind changes. Cash’s face twitches slightly as it brings the scent of another wolf. Interesting. He gets up, stretching, feeling some of the vertebrae in his spine crack before he walks towards.
 
He’s not stealthy in his approach—the damp ground and the twigs and branches snapping underpaw are enough to give himself a way. He gives the younger girl a quick look, following her line of sight to the water. She looks… perplexed, so he puts two and two together.
 
“I’ve heard if you sing to ‘em real nice, it’ll charm them outta the water.” Cash’s voice is deep, with a hint of rustic humor. “Either that, or you can do it the old fashioned way.”
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#3
She hasn't been looking at the water long before the snaps of twigs threaten to break her attention. Cypher's not worried; were it a bear, the sound would've heavier, and a mountain cat would've been on her before she'd have time to do anything but gape. Whatever it is, it's bold but not threatening. Not yet, anyway, and so she's focused on finding a fish slow enough for her to catch. It's only when the musk reaches her that she looks up, golden eyes resting on the stranger's rustic features.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks to her, the twang of it taking nothing away from it's depths. She finds it comforting— familiar, even. Her dad's from way down south originally, or so he'd told her, and the way this fellow speaks reminds her of his subtle drawl. Cypher's adopted the relaxed canter, but she's born and raised in the north and her own dialect has little of the soul. "I wasn't made for singing," she tells him easily, "or fishing, but seems like you might've been. Mind showing me a thing or two?"
gods ain’t gonna help you, son
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Bold was certainly a word for it. Others called it stupid. Cash tends to think he exists somewhere between—he did have a kind of self-assured ease that put others off, confused them long enough for him to begin to work the situation to his advantage. Brutes found it annoying, offputting, and it made them more irritated and easy to work up into a lather (then easier to deal with in their rage). Those a little more inclined to the more civilized routes of life typically got caught up in the sway. It was something he learned a long time ago in life: act like you completely controlled a situation and you could trick others into thinking it. Sometimes you could even trick yourself
 
He sidles up alongside her, peering into the water. Truth be told, he wasn’t much of a fisherman either. He’d caught a few in his life, sure, but it was largely because one burned a lot less energy sitting in one spot, waiting for the prey to come to them rather than the other way ‘round. He couldn’t get anywhere close to calling himself an expert, though.
 
Her response elicits a gravely chuckle from him. “Don’t know ‘bout being made for anything. The trick is, in life, more you do somethin’, the more it becomes you.”
 
In the good ways and the bad.
 
He takes a deep breath, sighing through his teeth. “Can’t lie to you, though. I don’t have much experience in this regard either.” He studies the fish, though, watching their movements against the steady stream. There were some patterns, though they were broken as soon as they formed. It wouldn’t be easy by any stretch of the imagination. Still better off than tryin’ to scrounge up some skinny rabbit from these desolated forests, though. “Guess it’s similar to regular huntin’, though. Watch, wait. Try to guess where it’ll be next, then make sure you’re there to meet it.”
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#5
She's comfortable as he sidles up next to her; he's nothing but relaxed, and she can't find it in her to suspect him of turning on her. Things are bad here, sure, but they're not quite so dire as that. For a moment, they're both staring into the river, both trying to work out how to catch one of these slippery devils. But he chuckles, and Cypher draws her gaze from the water to look at him. He's rugged, and she can see his chipped teeth when he speaks. Somehow, it's charming.

Cypher here was made for the chase, and she's certain that chasing fish is nothing like chasing a ripe old elk. Somehow, she thinks, I'd guess there's one chance and one chance only. If she were a fish, and something came splashing into her habitat, she'd swim away and not return for a while. And wolves weren't made for swimming, of that she was certain, no matter this fellow's philosophy.

"Well," she says. "Here goes nothin'."

Her golden-orange eyes scan the river a final time, and after a heartbeat, she lunges. To her surprise, she latches on to something. When her head comes up, though, she feels something wet and slimy slap against her muzzle. She's not used to this; the fish falls back to the water when she loosens her grip. Cypher's a little stunned, not quite sure what happened.

"Well."
gods ain’t gonna help you, son
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#6
Cash lived in a moment. This moment was peaceful. The world around them was nothin’ but dust and bare bark, but at least the water still had its clarity and the fish still had their lives. Thinking about nothing but the here and now allowed him to act in the way that he did; he seemed carefree and nonchalant because he didn’t hold onto any worries or concerns, easy as that. But the one little issue with the way Cash lived his life was, the moment that the chips were down and things started to get dire, he could change for the worst in an instant. People didn’t usually see it coming; that chipped-tooth smile seemed so genuine in its geniality. Because it was… until the second that it wasn’t.
 
He doesn’t feel any kind of tension here, though. He could go for something to eat, sure, but he’s not outright starving yet. He’s better off staving away boredom by giving this girl a few tips on how best to sort fish out of their natural habitat. He wouldn’t say his advice was the best in the world, but he was interested to see how it was used; he sat back a little and watched her give the osprey’s game another sporting try.
 
Her head darts into the water, and Cash’s brows lift considerably when he sees her return with something shining and writhing clasped between her jaws. Not strongly enough, though, it seems. The fish manages to give her the slip, falling back into the water before disappearing. He’s still and silent for a moment, stunned, before a low grumble sounds from his chest. It crescendos a bit, resolving into what can be discerned as a gravely chuckle. After a moment his jaws part and it becomes a full laugh.
 
“Don’t know who was more surprised,” he says, casting her a look with a crooked smile and amused eyes, “you or the fish.” He chuckles again. “I guess I managed to neglect mentionin’ the most important part: once you got it, you bite down.” It was dry, sure, but the humor was there. Honestly, he hadn’t expected her to actually catch one of the damn things, though people could surprise you sometimes. It’s just too bad they didn’t have anything to show for it.
NOTICE: due to school, i will be incredibly scarce
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#7
It was bondafide dumb luck that she had caught the fish, and the universe had balanced itself immediately thereafter. She's disappointed, sure, but she's no worse off than expected. Her ears go back, and she feels an odd heat fill them as the male makes a low rumble. She thinks it's a growl at first, and she's about to get offended, but the sound works into a crescendo until she can distinguish it as laughter. That almost offends her, too, because she'd like to see him give it a go— but it's only a moment before she's laughing, too.

"Well, shit, honey," Cypher says, between laughter. "You gotta be more direct."

She peers down at the water and the fish are gone. It stands to reason that they'd have fled after such an assault, but Cypher had a small hope the one she'd caught might've been injured or belly up. Her luck had been spent on catching it in the first place. Her shoulders roll in a shrug, and the she-wolf politely steps back away from the male to give her head a good shake.

"I'm Cypher, by the way," she tells him.

"Cy for short."

She exchanges a few more shallow pleasantries with the fellow, and perhaps they fish some more, but their efforts prove to be unsuccessful and they eventually part ways.