Wheeling Gull Isle a turkey in a turtle's shell

Perdition saw the boy's embarrassment, and was embarrassed in turn, though for what reason he wasn't sure. He cleared his throat and stared pointedly away, hoping this awkward feeling in his chest that made him want to flee would diminish.

Mo told him that he could rest while he hunted for him, and Perdition only felt more awkward. He was nothing but a burden here, barely able to move some days, overcome by pain; his concentration lapsed as well as his hearing...

'—but, the only fish I've ever seen are very small.'

Speaking of a lapse in conversation...

He snapped his head up, realizing that he'd missed some of what the boy had said. "Fish... yes. Um..." He glanced away, trying to think of something constructive to say. He wasn't sure if he'd ever hunted fish... He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to focus. "Fish are startled easily, and unlike prey on the ground, past a certain point, you cannot follow to chase them. You cannot swim and hunt at the same time. Stay in the shallows where you can stand and wait. Patience is key. Be as still as you can. Become like a stone and the fish will come to you. Then you must strike quickly or all hope is lost."

All hope is lost? Was he teaching the boy to fish or to fight? Clearing his throat again, he nodded once to Mo and tried to smile, but it only came out as a grimace, like always.