Whitefish River tired blue boy walks my way

the fish was soon dropped from her maw, suddenly aware, with the instinctual gut feeling that all wild things have, that she was being watched. the bass dropped from her maw, landing dully on the earth, and she turned swiftly and silently to observe this threat. it was only halfway through her spin that she remembered that she was with others now, and not on her own. then, if anything had approached silents, its intent was hardly good. but here, here was different. 

storm-cloud gaze found quickly the behemoth of a male that approached, running up and down the body quickly before falling to rest of the golden orbs. 'No" she answered in affirmative response, ancient accent still clinging to her words. "I am Aglæca . Nomad, until now." she offered, watching him still, and while her words were few, her gaze was hardly closed off. This, it seemed, would be her leader - the first in a long, long time.