Whitefish River So start me up and watch me go.

there was a beauty with fishing. it required patience, a skill saarthal had always admired but never obtained. it required speed and quick strength and the ability to manoeuvre one's ja — bullshit, my thoughts are such bullshit. maybe, you only ever needed luck. everything seemed to be related to luck. something i don't fuckinggg have. in any case, that hardly mattered. her thoughts were done entertaining her because there was a girl. seemed cute. and saarthal was bored. perfect. she watched as the fish darted away from the stranger's jaw and cocked an eyebrow at the mild profanity slipping from the girl's lips. huh, let's strengthen that. "fuck," saarthal emerged, a quicksilver smile breaking past onto her mouth. "bad luck, dude. they're real quick, those fish."