Greatwater Lake It's not ours to break

Out of the corner of her eye the Stormthorn had longingly gazed after the plump catfish and the trail of swirling lakeland debris it had disturbed in its wake. Yet it was gone now, and all that remained was the painfully lost opportunity. Pallas would have sourly dismissed the male and was about to do so when he unexpectedly offered an apology. The shewolf was not entirely convinced it wasn't sardonic, but the mention of a possible meal caused her ears to perk forward in interest. His smile was not mirrored -- instead, her gaze seemed to pointedly stamp 'Return To Sender'. On stiff limbs she slid upward, shaking the bogwater from her sodden pelt. "Where?"