Whitefish River Gotta move on

Holo had waited as long as he could for his mate, he had wandered as far as he'd dared in search of her. The only conclusion he could make is that she wasn't returning. He had called for her so many times that his voice had grown hoarse. He was devastated and his body was beginning to deteriorate since their time apart, but he knew his life had to continue, with or without her. He had been following the river from the otter creek. A place that no longer brought him joy. One that only brought him bitterness and heartbreak. He had gone a great distance north, a forest lie to north, west, and east of him. He could smell packs in the area but grief stricken as he was, he couldn't bring himself to approach them.

With a half-hearted sigh he stepped into the shallow water and scanned the river for a quick meal. It wasn't long before a few small fish passed before him. He didn't bother with these, they wouldn't even put a dent in his malnutrition. His stomach growled with a vicious fury as a much larger fish began to approach. He readied himself, planting himself firmly in the river.