Whitebark Stream If you ain't six feet underground, you're living it up on top

the huntress waits patiently while the woman hunts, tail lashing when she pulls an unwilling victim from the stream, making quick work of it. "good catch!" comes her easy praise, stepping near. she'd not missed how she'd used her injured paw in the hunt, an interesting adaption. she settles onto her haunches beside the woman, gaze shifting over the shallows a moment before returning to the girl. it'll take a while for the fish to draw near once more, having caused such an obvious disturbance in the shallows. "where'd you learn to fish like that?" she asks, shifting as she regards the younger girl.