Redhawk Caldera rosebowl

His face showed his surprise. While he was a decent hunter, he hadn't expected to have guessed why fish was best caught in the morning or evening. It made sense- he, too, moved slower when he was tired. She waded into the waters, spoke of swimming, and mentioned the island. He was well familiar with the area, though there were certain memories about the Plateau that he tried to suppress. Wading too deep into water still reminded him of the time he'd nearly drowned, and how he'd been willing to wade in too deep. He remained on the shore. 

She was fishing, now, watching the waters, so he remained quiet, allowing her time to fish, watching her movements to see exactly what techniques she used so that he might learn for himself.