Two Rivers Isle a proper story

She's comfortable as he sidles up next to her; he's nothing but relaxed, and she can't find it in her to suspect him of turning on her. Things are bad here, sure, but they're not quite so dire as that. For a moment, they're both staring into the river, both trying to work out how to catch one of these slippery devils. But he chuckles, and Cypher draws her gaze from the water to look at him. He's rugged, and she can see his chipped teeth when he speaks. Somehow, it's charming.

Cypher here was made for the chase, and she's certain that chasing fish is nothing like chasing a ripe old elk. Somehow, she thinks, I'd guess there's one chance and one chance only. If she were a fish, and something came splashing into her habitat, she'd swim away and not return for a while. And wolves weren't made for swimming, of that she was certain, no matter this fellow's philosophy.

"Well," she says. "Here goes nothin'."

Her golden-orange eyes scan the river a final time, and after a heartbeat, she lunges. To her surprise, she latches on to something. When her head comes up, though, she feels something wet and slimy slap against her muzzle. She's not used to this; the fish falls back to the water when she loosens her grip. Cypher's a little stunned, not quite sure what happened.

"Well."