Totoka River intention, retention, it's all in your head

the river was a nice discovery. like everything else, he had stumbled across it in a moment where the world felt incredibly overwhelming. tired of feasting on scraps and after a well learned lesson about why one should not drink saltwater, finding a fresh water source was a godsend.
not that lakhos believed in god or gods. he wasn’t the slightest bit spiritualistic. but if there were some gods out there, he was certainly thanking them. fresh water would do him good and fresh water was a source of finding food relatively easily… most of the time.
when he had slaked his thirst, he begun the arduous task of fishing. the fish were pretty easy to spot, but catching them? the audience laughed with more gusto than deserving for a really bad sitcom where the main character was weeping internally. could he have actually cried, lakhos may have when the fifth fish in half an hour had literally leapt between his open mouth and freedom.
the sharp click! of his teeth hurt. his feet were cold and wet.
rage replaced sorrow pretty easily, his nostrils flared with a huff as he started from square one again. he grumbled, he paced, and finally stilled to let the running waters bring him a stupid prize. the coywolf would have ate shoe leather if it came washing downstream but out here in the wilderness, he had about as much luck of that happening as he did finding a garbage can with a cheeseburger wrapper to lick.
lakhos, now the statue, stood waiting.
but where the fuck did the fish go??

@Haoming