Whitefish River here 2 china

I'm being vague because I'm not sure what's going to happen in my thread with Katrina. Set today.

After his encounter earlier that morning with a dark chocolate she-wolf, Skyfall had headed upstream where he could find a good fishing spot for lunch. Soon he would have to join a pack, but for the moment he was happy exploring these lands as a loner. There seemed to be only two packs so far, or at least only two mixtures of scents that were predominant here. The others were all individuals, wolves like himself that spent their time as loners. It wasn't (exactly, entirely) his fault that he had been kicked out of his pack. It would take him some time to find the right pack to call his own.

For now, however, Skyfall was going to concentrate on finding lunch. He had fished a few times before, but he was not an expert by any means. At only ten months old, the ashen boy was far from good at anything. Only his thick fur concealed the fact that he was nearing skeletal at this point. The lucky catches of disabled squirrels, birds, and mice had kept him alive this long. Thankfully his coat was still as long and lustrous as ever, though some of its shine was beginning to fade. Soon he'd have to bathe and ingratiate himself with a pack. He'd fish in the meantime, and waded knee-deep into a calm section of the river, keeping his eyes peeled for the bright, flashing silver fins of his next meal.

Thanks for starting! :D

She was hungry. She was always hungry. The lucky days in which she managed to snag a mouse or catch a squirrel unawares were few and far between, and no amount of scattered morsels could satisfy the deep hunger that plagued her after her long journey here. The endless discomfort and restlessness made her agitated and irritable, and she often found her temper short and her patience thin for no apparent reason.

Hunting in these lands was so different from what she was accustomed to. She had grown up in the barren, unforgiving north, where vast herds of caribou and bison roamed the open tundras. Game was large, slow, and heavy, and the entire pack participated in taking it down. It was easy to run down a meal on the open flatlands outside of their forests. They feasted until they were fat and lethargic. Here, however, everything was different. Dark, dense woods, thick, tangly scrubs and hollows, deep ravines, steep mountain slopes, soaring cliffs, and countless other obstacles made hunting far more convoluted and difficult. She had to learn how to do it all over again, it seemed. She had to be stealthier, faster, better. She had to think abstractly, be clever, and outfox (outwolf?) her quarry.

Much as she hated to say it, she needed a pack.

She padded alongside the rocky shore of the river near the forest where she and Antares were staying until they figured out exactly what they wanted to do. There was no way they'd be able to make it on their own when winter came, but for now, they had time to while away the warm summer days in careless (if hungry) freedom. The lower half of her body was wet, and vibrant eyes scanned the rushing surface of the river in search of the telltale glint of fish scales gleaming in the sunlight. For the moment, she saw nothing. As she rounded a bend in the river, she saw another wolf a little further up the shore, wading about in the river seemingly in search of fish himself. Her curiosity piqued, she paused where she stood, the cool water lapping at her toes, and watched him.

The trick, he learned, was to stand still and let the fish, with their tiny brains and minuscule memories, think he was part of the river all along. As he stood stock still, he heard the lapping of the river against someone else's legs, but didn't care move to look. The fish had already begun to feel comfortable around him, as if he were a big, oddly shaped rock. Lowering his head slowly, yet steadily, Skyfall eventually struck out like lightning, and emerged from the cool waters with a fish clasped between his teeth. It wasn't a huge fish, but it was big enough for him.

Turning to look toward the stranger, Skyfall saw a white female was studying him in turn. With a twitch of his head, he flung the fish to the shore and turned back to the water. He'd catch her a fish, too, and then they could share a meal together, maybe. He wouldn't be offended if she decided to take her fish and leave; after all, he was a stranger to her, and Skyfall knew that he didn't trust strangers until they had proven themselves. But she seemed genuinely curious in him right now. What did she want? But instead of concentrating on these questions, he turned back to the river and resumed his calm stillness. The water flowed around his legs as he stood there. The tide wasn't deep in the area he had chosen, which was good. He couldn't wade the river entirely; it was too wide and too deep in some parts. But the shallows in which he stood now was a perfect fishing spot.

Only moments later his jaws flashed down into the water, and he came up with yet another catch. Moving back onto the bank, he set the second fish near the first, and beckoned to the female with a soft bark. "Come eat, and maybe I'll show you my secret techniques." Technically, he didn't have any secrets, but the snowy female didn't know that.

At some point, the young grey wolf noticed her presence and regarded her with a curious look. He continued fishing a moment later, and Sigrún remained where she was, watching him work. The way he hunted the elusive fish was fascinating; for the longest time, he was as still and silent as a mountain, standing motionless for so long that a casual observer might have lost interest and looked away after a while. But then, in an explosion of movement, his head shot into the water like a silver lance and he quickly resurfaced with a fat, glistening fish clutched in his jaws. Sigrún couldn't help the grin that crept over her features as she watched. He made it look so easy that it was almost amusing to watch.

Much to her surprise, he caught a second fish and invited her to eat with him. Her smile was replaced by a more serious, wary expression. She was not accustomed to other wolves sharing their spoils with her. Where she had come from, each wolf fought for his fair share, and he ate when it was his turn -- not a moment before. Wolves certainly never went out of their way to accommodate strangers and invite them to share in their lunch. Sigrún was confused and, fearing trickery, very nearly considered turning around and leaving. But the empty growling and contorting of her stomach reminded her that she was very hungry, and the sight of the fish wriggling angrily on the bank made her lips tingle with saliva.

After a moment's hesitation, she walked slowly toward him, her frozen-seawater eyes following him watchfully. She wasn't afraid of him, of course. He may have been taller than she, but he was younger and presumably less experienced. She was confident that she could take him in a fight. But she had no desire to resort to that. It was her nature to question the motives of those she did not trust. Lowering her head, she sniffed the fish and then gingerly took it in her mouth. Carrying it between her teeth, she moved a few paces away and then set it down between her front feet. "Thank you," she said, still eyeing the young male. "I am not used to being offered food by those who do not know me. What is your name?"

When he offered her a fish, she seemed taken aback by his offer. She didn't seem affronted or offended, she was simply cautious. Skyfall didn't blame her; if a complete stranger had offered him food, he would've had to think twice before taking it. Skyfall grabbed one and took a step back before falling on his belly and beginning to eat. After a moment, the female timidly stepped forward, grabbed the second fish, and retreated a few steps back.

"You're welcome," he replied between mouthfuls of fish, turning his silvery eyes toward her. He understood her concerns about being offered food by a stranger, but instead of replying immediately he simply shrugged one slim shoulder. After a pause he finally spoke, "Skyfall. My mother taught me to share with those in need, and you look just as hungry as me." Beneath his fur, his ribs strained against his skin. He planned to remain in this valley through fall and winter, to gain weight and strength, and to find a pack to pledge himself to.

The white female didn't smell of any pack, so maybe their paths had been meant to cross.

Though he was young, Sigrún was impressed with the boy's response. Her own mother certainly hadn't taught her anything like that when she was younger. Everything Salene had taught her had focused first and foremost on what was best for the clan and for her own self-preservation. Salene hadn't been a selfish wolf by any means -- rather, she was one of the most selfless wolves Sigrún had ever known -- but with the pale queen, the pack always came before the individual. Before meeting this young wolf here today, Sigrún might never have thought to go to the trouble to feed another. Perhaps, in future situations, the notion might cross her mind, however.

The silver male had asserted that she looked just as hungry as he did, and she nodded as she settled down with the fish between her forepaws. "I am," she agreed, before biting into the fat, succulent fish. Warm juices flowed into her mouth, along with the tangy, ever-decadent taste of fresh blood, and the meat was soft and tender. Scales stuck in her throat and became wedged in her teeth, but she paid them no mind for now. Her empty belly welcomed the food with gusto, and she ate ravenously, saying little as she did.

She was curious and yet also weary, which was understandable. She snatched the fish from the ground and retreated a few steps from him, to eat her food in relative safety. He wouldn't charge her or attempt to take the fish by any means; he had his own right here. But Skyfall also knew that this was pure instinct working in her actions--she didn't know him and he had just given her food. If he were vindictive at all, he would have played some trick on her just then.

But he wasn't, and he wouldn't. Skyfall continued to eat his own fish, relishing the feeling of the meat sliding down his throat into his belly. It wasn't much, but the fatty oils within the fish would help replenish not only his energy stores, but also some luster to his dull coat. It would do wonders for his skin and nails, for his eyesight and even his musk. They ate in silence for many minutes, and when Skyfall was finally done with his fish, he cast the bones aside to bury later and turned to study the young woman across from him. "Better?" he inquired simply.

They ate in a companionable, if somewhat awkward, silence. Minutes elapsed as the two cleaned the carcasses of their fish; Sigrún picked each bone clean, chewing and gnawing along the knobby backbone and between the prickly ribs. She coughed sharply as a thin rib bone scratched at her throat on the way down but continued to eat, unfazed. Fat and juice glistened on her lips and whiskers, and glossy scales littered the ground around her forepaws. Despite the fish's small size, its high-fat, high-protein meat was surprisingly filling. As she gulped down the last morsels of meat and skin, licking her teeth gingerly as she spat out a random scale here and there, her belly felt sated for the first time in many days.

Just as she let out a soft sigh of satisfaction, Skyfall asked, "Better?" She turned her glacial eyes up at him and gave him a small smile, nodding as she replied, "Yes, much better." Her smiled widened and her tail swept across the rocky ground behind her, grateful for the stranger's kindness. "I am Sigrún. I'm new here. Where I am from, hunting is...different. My belly has long been empty." The relief from hunger quieted the feral, aggressive side of her, allowing her softer, friendlier side to show through.

as dark as the winter, as black as her ghastly veil
as cold as her whisper and chilling gown