Qeya River subsistence

Angler followed the pup's point to the tower of ice near by, it was an imposing force on the landscape he found himself glancing to often with his time here.

"It's nice to meet you Veteran. My name is Angler Roewater, I was in that tribe but I'm a lone wolf now." He nudged the fish.

"Go on and eat, or carry it off home, I'm full." He had had his fill of salmon and had topped off a mild hunger with the roe he dug up earlier.

"Now about meeting your parents..." He paused. An invitation to a pack? This, well it's what he'd been looking for, but he had to slow down. Tailing a pup home was a bad sign, he remembered adult wolves following pups to his birth pack and how they had a sleazey air about them, trying to use the innocence of a child to wiggle into a pack, probably after burning bridges at an old one. A wandering wolf was hard to trust, and many saw through the facade of a child.

No, if Angler joined, he needed an adult to invite him. And besides, it looked chivalrous to turn down a child.

"I'm afraid I'll have to say no. Perhaps if we cross paths again? I'm still deciding if I want to make my way down south or not, I'll be heading to the coast soon to gauge how far south I want to head. If I don't head down, I'll come back and ask for an adult."