Whitefish River that's a lot of fish

Yukimi didn't know how things hit the fan so fast.

In the beginning, Yuki had approached a woman, complementing her pelt and talking about the flora from her home. Simple, right? Yet within the span of a couple minutes, there were four of them – and it wasn't on a positive note, either.

The autumn hued man who stood within the banks said nothing; only staring and assessing the two women. His sharp, citrine gaze slightly intimidated her, and Yuki subconsciously made the effort to avoid it. First, looking at Lenina, silently questioning if she knew who this was – and judging by her reaction, she didn't. The snowbird's brows furrowed anxiously, with the lack of knowledge of exactly what was going on – but decided to go with the flow to help calm the situation. 

She turned to the man, smiled and greeted him……well, she was about to greet him, until player four joined the field.

Made of sand and red clay, and speaking in a strange accent she couldn't pinpoint. He was large and stocky like his red counterpoint, and he was also….telling them to leave?

Well, that wasn't very nice. What happened to hello? How are you?

More importantly though, what had she put herself in the middle of?

H-Hey, wait!

When the man within the stream finally spoke, his words were heated with a feral anger that surprised Yuki. The yearling sensed some kind of conflict here, maybe even a fight, and couldn't help but try to step in between the space of the two. She was unsure of what she could say to stop it, but she never knew unless she tried – right? 

Yet just because she didn't want a fight to happen, didn't mean the man's words didn't rub her the wrong way. So she turned to him – With all due respect sir, she began, I'm also confused on why we have to leave, I don't smell a claim here at all.