Whitefish River she's a bad mama jama

A somewhat uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them as they continued on with their patrol. Had Dulce known, she wouldn't have said anything; now that she had, she knew better than to do it again. It goes without saying that she was grateful for Evergreen's change of subject. I know that, she replied with a sly grin, I don't fit in places either. There weren't a lot of wolves like her; content to live life on their own, without the mostly unwanted company of others. It was the smaller part of why she'd been alone for so long.

Hunting was the one trade that Dulce hadn't thought of, so of course it was one of the ones that Evergreen chose to claim. She gave a silent curse (and did the wolf version of the "Darnit!" snap) in her head, replying, I could have guessed guardian, but not fisher. You're so big, don't you scare the fish? It was difficult to imagine him gracefully diving into a pool of salmon without each one of them zipping away.