Totoka River be the hunter and the hunted

it was just like the moment he stepped well out of easy range of going back to decent cover that the snowstorm started up again. it was annoying and he was beyond annoyed about it, but the necessity of food was one that couldn't pass up.
at least the wind wasn't entirely howling down in his face—at least not yet— but for the longest time as he followed the river between the mountains the whole thing acted like some gigantic asshole wind tunnel hellbent on fucking him up just for existing.
needless to say, almost, lakhos was fairly dishelved by the time he had ventured out into the shallows of the stream to try his hand at fishing again. he was loathe to admit it and probably wouldn't so long as he lived, but the knowledge imparted to him by the stutterbox girl lingered.
and surprisingly, as he approached an area he thought teeming with fish, it seemed to be working. if they couldn't see his shadow, he imagined he could be still enough for long enough to actually attempt to catch them. or one of them, even.
just as the storm started to pick up again with its icy gales, he snared a fish from the moving waters with a note of surprise spilling out around it. the fish was putting up a fight between his jaws, almost comically too large to be held by such a scrawny yearling like him.
it wriggled, throwing him off balance and leaving him to stagger towards the shore. he had an idea of what to do with it—he threw it into a snow bank and put that sucker on ice. sort of. it didn't stop it from flailing around uselessly as it bled out and started suffocating, but it didn't have enough heft or ability to fling itself back into the water.
"easy peasy," he said to himself.
it didn't get the chance to die on its own though—lakhos put it to a swift end and hoisted it back up once again. time to find somewhere to go eat this chow while it was still fresh.

@Corvo