Whitefish River If that’s all/everything/more

The male had accepted her invitation and approached, but not without first having retrieved his previous catch. She'd done her best to ignore it for the time being, deciding that there were far more pressing matters at hand. Her plan was not the greatest, having been thrown together in a matter of mere moments, but even still, she felt as if it was better than doing nothing. She had a chance at getting away, and that was all that really mattered. So when he'd then dropped the creature to the ground, she'd done her best to keep her eyes from drifting towards it, staying focused on his face instead. Inwardly, she really did pity the lifeless flame, but knew she could do nothing to fix it. Already had its soul gone away, and never would she be able to lure it back into his body. She wished to have never of crossed paths with the man, even after his apology had been issued.

Nevertheless, she'd nodded, accepting his words for what they were, but making no comment on them. Towards the water's surface had she then looked, nodding towards it, even, so that the male might follow her gaze. "Watch them," she'd instructed. "When one is near to you, strike into the river so that you may catch it." A demonstration was not given, only words. If he were to do as instructed right then, she would break away from him once his head was submerged in the water and make an attempt at slipping away. Whether or not she'd be successful was presently unknown, for she knew not how quick the male was, or even if he'd give fishing a shot. If he, instead, did not attempt to catch one, she would remain still for a while longer, biding her time.