Stavanger Bay waterslide

Although she had convinced herself she was content without setting foot on the island, she still found herself drawn to it. It was a curious thing, this curiosity! But she had no mind to examine it. Instead, she was busy looking into the water.

There were many fish to look at, which she liked very much. She loved the way they grouped together, their many colors, their dazzling scales, their shiny little eyes. It must be so different, to be a fish. It was so different already just to be herself. Did every wolf feel this way?

Sunlight washed over the beach, hot and heavy against the young hunter’s thick coat. The waves that pushed against the shore were tempting. He knew that he could cool himself in the waters if he ventured out far enough. With a swim, he could gather enough fish to feed himself and the others he’d lost track of.

Squinting against the glint of the sun against the water, Swordfish caught sight of a stranger on the edge of the sea. She appeared to be staring intently into the blue depths. From a distance, he could only assume that she was attempting to catch something. As the boy drew closer, he wuffed a melancholy greeting to see if the fisher could be persuaded to catch him something too.

It was just like her to be so dialed-in on something that she did not realize another had approached. She caught wind of him maybe two beats before his greeting, and although his presence electrified her, the fish seemed to be unbothered.

She acknowledged him with an inviting wag of her tail, the wet edge of her nose quivering to take in his scent. Although her energy was unmatched, she would meet his gaze, unwavering. If he wanted something, she was unaware. He would have to be more direct in order to bag his meal.

The stranger was pleasant with her body language. She didn’t appear to be bothered that he’d intruded on… whatever it was she was doing. Swordfish followed the sway of her tail and took it as an invitation to draw nearer. His heavy-lidded stare shifted to the waters where he saw the glimmer of fish scales caught in sunlight.

Ya fishin? he asked her in a monotonous drawl.

Pulling his gaze from the prey, Swordfish looked over her shape with some small interest. She did not carry the scent of a pack on her. He wondered if she’d just washed in, carried by the waves and crashed against the shore.

No, she said with a gentle shake of her head. Looking.

An eternity passes, at least in her mind, where she looks at him the way he looks at her. She notices his lean frame and realizes, painfully belated, what he was after. She perked like an exclamation point. Want fish? Um — can be fishing, if you want. It was something she was good at, and she always liked to have a chance to be good at something.

Not fishing, just looking.

Swordfish deflated slightly, aware that he would not be able to schmooze a free meal from this pretty stranger. Her eyes were bright on him. Her expression unreadable. The young man stirred, thinking of Suzu and wondering if he had made a horrible mistake. While his mind crumbled, he stood awkwardly across from the stranger.

As soon as she brightened, offering to fish, Swordfish returned to the present and his eyes lifted to her features. She seemed so eager. He wondered if he had ever been so bright and bubbly as this. It didn’t feel like it.

How ‘bout we try together… his monotonous drawl came.