Whitefish River Temptation Heat Beats Like a Drum

Alaric moved swiftly through the territories. There were abundant packs here and about. He could make an easy living around here if they were all as welcoming as moonglow for traders and story tellers. It was with that thought that he found himself near a river.

He lay his pack down and with sharp jabs, he stomped on the ice and broke it. Then he watched for fish. He was hungry. And fish was always good. A soft little ditty he sang under his breath. His voice a warm baritone.

Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Take me to the river, drop me in the water, water
I don't know why I love her like I do.

Song credit is Tom Jones take me to the river @Maven

A voice. A singing voice. Something new that the woman would encounter.

It was peculiar, really. None of the mountain sang. They hollered in times of battle, of course— but not like this.

From afar, her piercing gaze watched. The stranger hunted for fish. A skill she had learned in her own way. But she watched them intently, hoping to learn the way they knew.

He finished the song with a flourish, his voice reaching the notes. And he smiled as he saw the shadows of the fish and then with swiftness born of hunting all on his own. He snaked his head down. Jaws aiming for the front of the fish's shadow.

He grasped it and jerked his head back, a small hiss between teeth where the fish sat at the chill that colored his face and eyes. He crunched down and tossed the large fish to the dirt, where he held it down with a paw.

Then his eyes went back to the ice again, narrower. He was fighting chill now and he wanted one more and then be done.

One fish had been caught, but the hunter sought more.

Slowly, she slunk closer, head shaking as he went to dive his head in again. Keep hunting, you body freeze. He may have already known, but his ambition for more fish blinded him. 

Now beside him, her eyes grazed the water. Use paw. Trap against ice. 

In demonstration, she waited for the right moment. Then, when time, her paw flew into the water and slammed a wriggling body against the ice below. When her claws had dug in as far as they could go, she pulled until it flung from the water, flopping vigorously against the ice.

She did not turn to kill it, instead waiting for it to die on its own.

Alaric turned and met her gaze and gave a small smile. I was only after one more. After all, I couldn't share if I didn't catch another.

He smiled at her. Well you have quite some skills. I'm Alaric by the way. What brings such a lovely lady as yourself this way?

He grasped his fish and moved a little ways away letting the other for her to grasp. He then waited patiently to see if she had anything else to say. 

He dipped his muzzle down. Speaking with an easy and carefree grace. I'm a trader, healer and story teller.

A smile lit upon their expression.

Maven scoffed. Don't sweet talk. That seemed to be what they were doing, anyway.

Know many skills. Fishing one. But not favorite. If it wasn't evident enough, combat was more-so her comfort zone.

Trader. Healer. Storyteller.

Many things she was not.

What you doing out here?

ote]

Alaric placed a paw at his heart, and smiled again. Eyes lighting up. Very well.

Alaric weaved his tail behind him, and looked to the ice covered water. I don't mind fishing all that much. I prefer chasing down rabbits thought. They are my choice of food.

He blinked and nodded. Though of course I prefer story telling, and healing to hunting and fishing.

Alaric shifted. Just traveling for now.

The man went on to speak more of his skills and preferences. Things she did not ask to know. Yet he went on anyway. 

Traveler want home? Straight to the point. Her way of conversation, rather than idle babble.

She clearly was uninterested in anything about him, and that threw up red flags for him. Granted, yes he was used to a sort of indifference, but usually when he received that, the skills that he carried were not considered a benefit to the wolf in question. And it made no sense to stay and trade his wares, or himself. But he also knew better than to burn bridges.

So he shifted his entire being. As a chameleon he was able to fit in anywhere. So he changed his tone and his stance to neutrality and his tone to one of straight to the point.

I have just arrived, but yes I am getting the lay of the land to pick a territory to make my home in.