Greatwater Lake wrapped them in "I don't owe you a damn thing"

The druid was a conundrum of composure. Collected, still as the pools hidden amongst the cherries, graceful - so much so that it belied the aspects of her that were unrefined: the primordial prowl in her gait, that glint of wilderness in her soul. 

Such did she demonstrate as she watched Donovan join her, slipping into the water with a poise his own, a manner of movement that was altogether predatory and ursine as she'd mistaken him to be. Frozen as the winterlands, intense orbs of stormy blizzard watching through the deepening dark. 

The girl shot her fellow halfling a grin of encouragement as he carried his catch to the shore, the expression soon giving way to perplexion. Not only had she been mistaken, but he wished to give her his fish, even knowing he was hungry? She was but a wanderess with no connection to him. 

"Zat is yers," the sylph murmured, gaze flickering between the fish and Donovan, as her head cocked - regarding him curiously. 

With a tiny shake of her pale crown, the woman turned to the water. It unsettled her, the thought of accepting his hard-won meal. 

It took a few long moments, seeing as the fish had scattered, but at last, a shadow flickered in the water after much patience. Lunging, the midwife resurfaced with a small fish to call her own. 

Awenfen joined the male on the banks, sodden and made ever smaller by the water's weight. A proud, if soaked, smile beamed around her hold on the fish as she trotted up to him.