Whitefish River 'Cause if I could see your face once more, I could die as a happy man I'm sure

The bearish male releases a low hum in thought—observing is fair. She is interested enough that she wants to see how it’s done, and that leaves Eve happy to show his skills. Fishing is a matter of patience, however, so it’s possible that he wouldn’t be lucky this time.

“Right, uhm, let me know if you have any questions,” the Count says with a smile. He shifts his weight, adjusting his attention from the white Page to the river surrounding him. Once he finds a position that he likes, he lays in wait—mismatched eyes flickering while he otherwise remains as still as possible.

The fish eventually get curious, swimming back along the river and trusting that the wolf isn’t a hungry predator. A sizable one catches his attention. The bear is quick to move, herding it closer into the shallows, splashing all the way until he finally reaches close enough to snap his jaws and pull up from the water’s surface with his prize in grasp.