Morningside Cuesta sky watcher

Traipsing through freshly fallen snow and bitter cold, Vale felt at peace. Having embarked on a whim, she left the stone circle in the night. A trail of footprints left in her wake. She would return of course, but the quiet of the early hours of the morning was better enjoyed without the risk of waking your neighbors.

Under the cover of darkness, she continued her trek. The slope of the cuesta nearly indistinguishable having been padded with snow. It was when her paw pushed snow over its edge that she stopped. Stepping back, Vale settled at the edge with a shiver. Body curling, she pulled her legs tight to her side. She looked out to the snow swept fields below.

She would wait there. Watching as the first rays of light crept over of the horizon. Pastel hues leached from the sky onto the snow. A smile worn upon her lips as the sun started its climb. A sense of tranquility overcame her.

Hope you don’t mind Bjorn dropping in.

Bjorn had been up early, as it was the only way to make use of the few hours of daylight that was present during the winter. He started at the cache, checking the level. The deer he and Moss caught had been a major contribution, and should last for some time, but he didn’t want to take any chances. On his way off of the camp, he came across a track of paw prints in the snow. He dropped his nose to try and catch any hint of who they belonged to. His nose had told him they belonged to a female, but he couldn’t get an exact identity. From there, he made his way towards the mudminnow river to spend the morning fishing, tracking the paw prints at the same time. He reached the river, and the tracks stopped, only to resume on the other side. Curiosity got him and he continued on till he crested the top of a slope, and crowning it was Vale Enid. The tracks belonged to her. He kept a short distance between them, calling out warmly: “Good morning Vale. Another early bird I see.”

not at all!

An ear turned at the crunch of snow and shortly after a familiar voice rose up to meet her. From where she lay, she lifted her head and looked down to the large form of Bjorn.

Good morning to you too! She called out with a friendly smile. It depends on the day.

Leaning back, she pointed with her nose to the rising sun.

Why are you up so early? Watching the sunrise, yourself?

“Ah. I see.” He replied, “Not all mornings are this perfect.”

She leaded back, pointing her muzzle to the sunrise, and with this, he too lifted his muzzle. The sun slowly crept over the hills, turning the sky an ever so delicate powder blue, before it would turn to a white later on. The sunlight lit the whole of the valley, as it reflected upon the snow. It truly was beautiful, but he brought his attention back to her question: “No, actually. I was on my way to go fishing. Early mornings are best cause the fish are just waking up and looking for breakfast.” “The sunrise is a bonus though. How about you? Any plans once the sun rises?”

Vale tipped her head towards him. You still fish in this weather?

Vale understood that water still flowed beneath ice when frozen over and that not all bodies of water froze to begin with. But wasn't it still freezing? Wouldn't fish be startled away by breaking ice? Her expression did not hide her befuddlement.

Her attention shifted to question he presented to her. She hadn't acted in accordance to a routine or plan. Merely a whim and one that accomplished what she set out to do. As simple as the goal was, in truth. An innate desire to wander sated, if only temporarily.

No, I've not planned much else. Apart from returning home once I'm too cold to stay out.

“I do indeed.” He replied proudly, “It’s called ice fishing, ironically. I go to places with fast moving water, because it doesn’t freeze as easily.” He’d explain, “And if one gets lucky, you’ll find a fish or two frozen. Then you just let it thaw or break the ice.”

She then answered his question, and she replied with a no. “Hm. Well, if you do indeed have nothing else to do, you’re free to come along.” And if she didn’t, that would be fine, even though he did enjoy her company.

Vale picked herself up from the ground. Snow clinging to her belly as she rose to her paws. She leveled her gaze to Bjorn and paused. Pondering. Then she smiled to the larger man with a nod.

It's worth learning something new, right?

Her day was free, and if she could help, she wouldn't mind the frozen water...Not as much, anyway. She shook out her pelt and stepped towards him.

She accepted, stood up from the snow, level her gaze with his and shook the snow off her pelt.

He returned her smile as she spoke and stepped towards him: “Always. We’ll head back west, just to the Mudminnow River. If we have any luck, we can snag a catfish.” He said with a wink, and began to trot in that direction, regularly making sure Vale wasn’t too far behind and he too ahead. 

They trekked through the snow, but Bjorn’s large size, paws and strong legs left a good trail to follow, flattening out the white sea.

Bjorn carved a trail through the snow, leaving Vale to follow in his large footsteps. Her eyes moved from watching where her feet fell to the river that cut its way through the snow swept fields. She kept a steady pace behind him.

Do you have any tips for ice fishing I should know? Or I suppose any kind of fishing, really. Fish wasn't really a part of our diet back home.

It made her mind drift. Was fish a staple food for most wolves? Her head tilted slightly as she watched Bjorn's back. He certainly seemed to favor it.

They continued on, trekking trough the sea of snow. A question came from Vale, and he turned his head back momentarily to respond: “Not many. Just to always be careful on or even near the ice. It’s not easy to gauge the thickness from sight. Besides that, patience, as with all types of fishing.” 

Finally, they had made it to Mud Minnow River. He had dug away some of the snow to make a couple of sitting spots. Once that was done, he carefully edged up to the river’s edge, the ice was beginning to melt with the temperatures on the rise. He stepped away from the river, grabbed a decently sized rock, and chucked it onto the ice, immediately making a hole in the thin icy surface. Then, he waited, watching the hole.

“This is where things get slowed down. Just gotta watch and wait.”

Moving into the flattened space Bjorn made, Vale lowered herself down onto her belly. A brisk shiver racing down her spine as some of the ice water splashed onto her face. Wiping a paw over her muzzle her eyes focused on the hole.

Patience, huh? Vale was capable of waiting for a lot of things in life. She even found it easier, most days.

This wasn't one of them.

She pulled her paws under her body and stretched out her chin across the ground. Staring at the water as though a fish would manifest if she looked hard enough.

What do you look for to know if a fish is there?

He watched Vale get settled, then settled his gaze in the back upon the hole. He quite enjoyed this little venture, having someone to talk to, teach what he knew. “Ah, you’ll see a shadow, and if you’re lucky and the sun comes out, you’ll see their scales shimmer.”

Just as he finished his sentence, his eyes shot quickly to a dark shape in the water, and before you could blink, he reached a paw in and scooped up a…. Stick. Seriously?! He couldn’t help but chuckle as he brought the stick up and set it on the snowy ground. 

“Well, you see, this is a common mistake.” “It just takes some time, and a fish will come along eventually.”

She chuckled as Bjorn deftly produced a stick. Gently teasing as he discarded it, Too bad we aren't beavers. That would have made a lovely snack.

Her eyes wandered to the sky. Pastel hues of red and orange lingered in the clouds with the recent daybreak, but the sun continued to climb. Perhaps if they waited long enough Bjorn would be able to demonstrate the flashing scales. Was it easy to discern it from the rippling water or a reflection off the ice?

Vale clicked her tongue and focused on the water. It could be seen moving below in the clear sections of the ice. Bubbling softly under the ice sheets before babbling freely in the hole Bjorn made.

It is a test of patience. And a test of faith in hoping that a fish would come along. But it wasn't much different than other forms of hunting, wasn't it? The difference was staying still or being in motion.

Are there types of fish you particularly like over others? Or kinds you shouldn't eat?

He could only chuckle in reply to her teasing. “Some lucky beaver would be glad to have it. I’m sure.” The two of them sat, quietly focusing on the water. The bubbling of the stream was calming, and the red and orange hues of the sky turning the ice the same colors. As the sun continued to rise, it shone on the now glimmering ice, and soon, a fish would swim by. Right before, he turned his head back to Vale, whose coat was beautifully bathed in the orange light, and all he could do, almost unconsciously stare, in a kind way. He then answered her question, and a good one it was: “I grew up eating salmon, mostly, some trout. But this place, this place seems like prime catfish habitat. As for fish that one cannot eat, I am not sure.”

Just then, a glimmer and shifting of sediment caught his attention, and swiftly snapping his muzzle down into the water, he proudly brought up a plump catfish, roughly 3 pounds, if wolves understood weight and measurements.

He set it down between he and Vale. “Prime specimen I would suppose.”

Her questions answered, Vale tilted her head at his musings. Catfish? Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the running water. What made this river ideal over other waterways? Her mouth parted to inquire further when Bjorn dove for the water a second time. This dive proving more fruitful than a wayward stick.

Vale found her paws and followed him. Ears cupped forward as the creature writhed and flailed about before meeting its end between his teeth. When it was displayed upon the ground she began to investigate. Looking over the animal's fins, the broad mouth, and of course the whiskers! She leaned closed to nose the fish before recoiling, a paw running along her nose to wipe away the fresh coating of slime.

They must be slippery! She barked out, now reaching out her paw to touch the fish's body. That's a lot of slime. Looks nice and fat though.

Vale inspected the catfish like a very curious creature, and he couldn’t help the amused look on his face. She took in every detail, fins, mouth and whiskers. When she reached to boop it with her nose, she quickly recoiled, and a hearty laugh just came naturally.

“Very! Yes, it will make a fine meal, should be enough to fill the stomachs of two wolves, easily.” She continued to touch it, this time with her paw. 

He stood, getting ready to head back to the stone circle. Before he scooped the catfish back in his jaw, he took a moment to speak again, “Well then, Vale, shall we head home? And if it please you, we can split the fish between the two of us.”

Shall we make way for a fade? I’ve quite enjoyed this thread. :3

Yes we can fade! Thank you for the thread!

Bjorn moved to reclaim the catfish and Vale withdrew a step as not to impede him. She took the chance to roll her shoulders. Restoring blood flow to her limbs with a stretch. The chill had set in during their idle time spent besides the river. With no complaints on returning home, Vale nodded her agreement. The mention of sharing the fish seemed to flip a switch, reminding her of the dull pang lacing her gut.

If you're okay with sharing, I wouldn't mind giving catfish a try!

Her tail would sweep gently behind her, ready to return to Kvarsheim once more.

She accepted his invitation, and he was glad. “Then it shall be done.” He replied, and turned to head home beside Vale, falling in step right beside her. 

The two had a very productive day and as the morning sun rose higher, the budding warmth of a nearing spring would come. 

Of course. Your very welcome. :D