Totoka River you say if you could fly, you’d never come back down
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Ooc — Van
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He figured she was mocking him somehow, but was able to largely ignore the thought because anything less than being physically antagonizing wasn't a problem in his eyes. His yellow gaze followed her now into the creek's bed, watching as the water rippled and lulled around her sleek frame; it molded around her as if she were a part of it, and from that moment on Haunter's dreams of the ocean (aka his "wet dreams") were then occasionally riddled with a dark, svelte sea-wolf of mysterious origins and minty-green eyes.

He followed her after a moment, his long legs which were swift and graceful on land now becoming weighted and foreign to the rest of his body. He splashed but was aware enough of fishing mechanics to know better than to let that occur again, so he began to coordinate the movements of his limbs to be slower and therefore more stealthy, as he came to stand at the dark female's side.

Water lapped her chest, but was only scraping Haunter's belly. He ventured further and remembered her advice as he patiently waited for the clueless prey to beginning waning his way once more. Eventually two or three swiveled in his direction, and when they came within a foot of him (which was generally close enough to successfully snag a rabbit from) he lunged for them. Unused to the viscosity of water when compared to thin air, he crashed into the stream and returned drenched but empty-mouthed.

He shook his massive head and made a low, irritated noise in the back of his throat. He tossed a rather accusatory glance at his "teacher".
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