Duck Lake We can be like Jack and Sally if you want

It sounded like a lot more work than she expected. His instructions were clear enough (and a bit brutal, she thought) but then he moved to show her; his motions were fluid as if he'd been doing this all his life, and soon he was joining her along the dry shore with a fish in tow. It was small, as malnourished as anything from the land, and made her immediately skeptical of the lake's true value. In the coming weeks the snow would come and the fish would freeze - or vanish - and Ibis didn't think she could burn all those calories for such a small payout. Then again, food was food, she was desperate.

I'll try -- she softly says, trying not to raise her voice too high. Then she began to wade in to the water. It was quite brisk, bitterly so, and the fur along the girl's narrow spine raised in surprise. Soon enough her limbs were numbed to it. It wasn't as bad as wading through mud, she thought - but still, being wet wasn't something that the nymph particularly enjoyed. She carefully paced along the slick river stones of the bottom, and then paused, watching for -- shadows, was it?

No, there was a flash of silver against the darkness of a murky swath; so quick that Ibis almost doubted herself too long. She lunged, felt the sharp cold of the water against her snout and immediately huffed in reaction, raising her face out of the water immediately, and the dark shapes of the fish zoomed off a great distance to where the water was too deep for her tiny self. Ibis sputtered a bit, the water dribbling off of her chin. She felt like a complete fool and withdrew frantically from the shallows - shaking off with a huff of frustration upon the shore.

Oh god, I suck! I wasn't expecting the water to be so cold. The girl lamented and looked pathetically to the stranger, looking all the skinnier where the water slicked her coat down.