Big Salmon Lake A thousand years

She cut a fine figure against the lake, with the morning light coming from above and being reflect from below. Valiant had watched her daughter do this many times over during their trip, and he could see that she'd been taught very well by her mother — but it was different, when it was Raindrop. She was more graceful, more refined. Careful and steady and fast when she struck at the water, and then not too graceful at all.

Valiant tried and failed to suppress a grin as she carried the flopping thing to shore. He was able to wrestle it into a tiny smirk by the time she finally dropped the slimy, lifeless carcass.

"Expertly done," he said — and he meant it, but it had still been very funny. As for the offer? He let out another huffy little laugh.

"We'll need more," he said, wading into the lake himself.

Performance anxiety gripped him all at once, in a way that he'd rarely ever felt throughout his life. He stared hard at the water, waiting for a fish to —

He dove. Got a mouthful of muck with his fish, and a nose full of water. And, to add insult to injury, his was smaller than hers.

Valiant brought it to shore and dropped it near hers, still flopping weakly on the hide.

He sneezed.

"You might be better at this than me," he admitted, though it was likely pointing out the obvious by that point.