Swiftcurrent Creek Vivec

fishing had become commonplace to mahler; first his time upon the coast and his stay at the creek had taught him a good deal. it was a trout laid against the dirt while the musiker uncovered the cache. the summer would soon be at an end, and the man suspected winter would come upon its heels, perhaps earlier than expected.
he could not know how he pictured such things, but reacted to it as any godly beast might: fattening oneself on riches to provide strength for the journey ahead. he pressed down the mound of loam over the trout, turned to backscratch over it with long strokes; mahler's hard lilac stare alit upon a figure pressing through the wood, small and yet unfamiliar to a degree.