the fish in the river- oh, sorry, i mean creek...

His eyes flickered towards her for a moment, noting her impatience. The wolves here were not like those of Nihon. Back home, they were taught patience, to wait for the right moment to strike. It was not a trait the people here taught their children, it seemed. Kizuato focused back on the fish, noting that it was slowly moving closer...and closer....and closer... and then..

The samurai darted forward, aiming above the fish's position, since the water changed the appearance of the fish, making it look lower than it appeared. The ronin brought his head back up, a wriggling fish held tightly in his jaws. He bit down harder, killing the aquatic creature and dropping it by the white cloud. "Fisshu."