Heron Lake Plateau Good morning sunshine

Choosing to cut and run was always the best option when things went sideways.

Mag knew to keep moving until nightfall. She was a bit irritated that her fishing and foraging had been so rudely interrupted, but by the third hour she had forgotten all about the child, and by evening and the following morning, her goals were refocused.

She was upon the banks of a sprawling lake. The water was placid. If she squinted through the morning mists, she thought she saw lake trout fins cutting the surface from time to time. This would be a good base of operations for the next few days, if she could manage a meal.

Maiken moved with purpose from the pack lands. Today she would find some of the herbs that lay along the shore line of the lake. And maybe some fish. She could always use fish to fill the stores, but they also made wonderful fertilizer for the garden to grow.

Petite paws took up the ground, as warm brown eyes looked to the sky and surrounding area, reveling in the sunshine that dappled her and the landscape. Before long the cold of the winter would break upon them all, and the land would be barren and frozen.

She was not a fan of winter, but she knew no matter how hard it was. There was always spring upon the heels of it.

It smelled better here. That was the primary reason Mag chose to go inland in the first place. Sure the mire could be a bit skunky, or maybe it was the frog water everywhere taking on a musk, but it was better than the rotting seaside by far.

The water here held almost no smell or taste. It was cold and crisp and didn't trick you the way the salted tide did, or could, if you were young enough and daft enough to drink from it.

Mag watched the ripples spread across the water where each fish clipped the open air; she stalked along the landform edge, then stopped, and when she moved again it was to reach out and ( hopefully ) pluck a fish free of the water.

Instead she got a mouthful of the cold, and as she dragged her clenched teeth back, she raked through grasses and reeds. All she could taste was dirt.

Maiken was not a wolf that liked water. It was cold and well wet. It clung to you and weighed you down. perhaps she was so used to being light, that when heavy it caused panic to press upon her chest.

Though there was something to be said of the things that lay in the mire beneath. Those with teeth and fins and dead eyes.

observing with wise eyes she waited and watched. Seeing that teh other wolf caught nothing, she finally did approach.

Would you like help?

The woman spat mud to mud, and then dunked her snout in to the water again, but this time it was without the insistence of catching a fish. She sloshed the water between her gums and the skin of her lips. When she raised again to spit again, there was a dark figure nearby that she had not seen among the trees earlier.

The offer for help was rejected almost immediately. Mag snorted and spat the wad of remaining detritus across the water and then turned to watch it float along a few beats, until a curious fish nibbled at it with a wide mouth and it was gone. Disgusting? Quite.

Yer loud voice'll scare the fish, if'n it hasn't yet. Mag remarked sourly. She knew it was not at all the stranger's fault she'd missed the mark but she wasn't about to admit weakness before another woman. Men, she could handle. They were predictable. Women - she always felt they required a sharper eye upon them.

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Maiken watched this most peculiar woman gargle and snuff at the water. And the stream of spit was most unbecoming, but she said nothing. Merely waited. Patient. She could understand the need, to clean one's mouth after such a poor attempt.

Maiken stared at her, deadpan. I think it lies more in your lack of skill than my loud voice. IF you didn't want help. There's no reason to be a Tispe about it.

Maiken was not one to normally engage in such words and behaviors. However, she was also not one to sit idly by while another insulted and berated, when she had simply offered help.

Narrowed eyes to the swamp witch then back to the water adn she shook her head. Good luck.

Then she turned and walked away, though she kept an ear out and a weather eye on the other to make sure there was no attacking from behind.

Mag's ears flinched back to block out the tone of the rambler; and as she witnessed the stranger leaving after, she had no reason to prevent that.

Many thanks, your absence'll make this task much simpler. She cajoled in a vaguely sing-song voice, turning back to the water to stalk a fish.

This time went a little better than the last. Mag dove at the water and slapped it with her forepaws, trapping something, and then scissored her teeth through the frothed water.

When she drew herself upon the bank after, she held a fish by the cheek.