Lost Creek Hollow fishay fishay

It's a suckerfish," he explained. "It's a bottom feeder. They are not as shy as other fish, like trout, so they are easier to catch. Good eating, too." If you asked him, at least. The blue-nosed wolf had never met a fish he did not like, and even enjoyed them sun-cured into a dry, chewy jerky-like meat.

He observed as she stepped forward to take her turn. Her form was quiet, her steps quiet, and she took care not to cast her shadow across the pool. The spooked fish were absent for several moments, before they resumed their lazy schooling patterns. He could not help but swish his tail with anticipation as he leaned forward, ears lifted, watching to see if she would be successful. The fish drew near, and she lunged for one, but came up with a bit of wood instead of dinner. He stared for a moment, pursing his lips as he tried not to laugh, but mirth was plain as day on his face and in his twinkling eyes.

"It's okay," he snort-chuckled, still trying to contain his laughter, but it was no use. He crackled up giggling. He had to shake his head to regain his composure. "I'm sorry, it takes time to learn to fish. To make matters worse, the water plays tricks. The fish are never exactly where they appear to be, but you sort of learn to aim as you go." Clearing his throat, he offered a comment on his first experiences. "I fell in too, when I first started, and I caught all manner of things but fish. But I kept at it until I figured it out. That is how you cheat," he winked.