Qeya River subsistence

Angler walked along the riverbank, eyes on the struggling salmon, watching as their fat and bright bodies frantically flung against the current. He peered into the water, watching as their powerful bodies thrashed around, propelling forward to find nooks to lay eggs and egged nooks to spray at. Through the clear water's he could even see where these eggs were, and following the massive males led him straight to the eggs.

Not wanting to pass on an easy and highly rich meal, Angler meanders into the water. One male had just got done covering some eggs with gravel , the nest resting behind a large rock that slowed the stream. Angler did make a lazy attempt to get the failed father with a charge forward, but the fish fell back and changed directions.

Content in his loss, he came up and uncovered the eggs, his muzzle dipping below the surface and pushing the layers of river pebbles out of the way to reveal bright orange roe. He lapped them up, breaking their gooey hold, some of the prize falling down stream, but missing a few morsels of the abundant and easy to get catch was nothing for him.

The sated wolf looks up and around, and his eye catches on a small wolf sitting higher up stream. he could not see the eyes, but he was sure the wolf had spotted him walk in. He paused, waiting for an acknowledgement, ready to burst. Stealing from a salmon run was a punishable offense on may of the river's he'd been to this season.