Whitefish River all I need is to be struck

It wasn’t a bad question. Why? She did have the same time each day as everyone else, yet while some swam freely, she isolated herself for the sole purpose of being pessimistic. Well, at least she’d been given a topic for tonight’s brooding session. Dulce tried to think of an answer, but found herself without anything but a shrug of her shoulders. 

Then, quicker than Dulce would have thought possible, the girl set off for the water once more, this time resurfacing with a prize. She watched, awe-stricken, as the crawfish was dropped and effortlessly dispatched. Maybe you are good, Dulce said, eyes lighting with curiousity, Where are your people? It didn’t make sense to her that someone so young should be out on their own, despite her own similar experience. On one hand, she hoped that the child had a home to return to, but on the other, she wished that she didn’t.