What’s in That Clear Blue Water?

Just one other for now, thanks! Open to any in Vanderfell

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The air above was still cold, though the forests that flushed the mountain's summit had begun to clear of snow and ice. With warmer days inbound, there was promise for comfort and ease into spring's approach. Runar made a habit of checking Ullrcraig Run frequently, both for travelers and to watch the herds as spring came into bloom.

Today was no different as the High King followed the stream down from the mountains to the base. The slight trickle sound of water guided him as he walked, the glint of a few fish beneath its surface catching his eye. It seemed that slowly more and more creatures were waking from their winter slumber. Father had always been more keen on fishing. He wasn't as good as the last king, but he had found an art in it. The real challenge was keeping his mouth shut long enough for the fish to trust the waters near him. The mountain man paused, his large form looming over shallow waters.

Perhaps today he'd test his luck.
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The world had been quiet lately. Where the winds whispered to her songs, it was silent, absent of the usual clutter of chaos amidst the air. Why, she couldn't discern but the calling of something hung heavy around her neck, weighing everything else down. A stray wind swept a familiar scent just beyond small steps before dancing back through the intertwining forests behind her. Curious, but mostly too nosy for her own good, she sought out the company until the recognizable figure came into view.

“What Runar is doing?” She'd ask as she grew closer, her words light against the drawl of the river. In truth, it was not often Twyla frequented these parts of Vanderfell. It was carelessness, she realized—the otherwise easy persuasion that kept her within the walls of both the mountains and Tearspine. That, and she did not so much like fish. Choosing to visit the smaller rivers as opposed to the elevated pieces of territory was rare and futile.

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Runar's ears twitched in many directions as Twyla approached, though his focus remained in front of him, shadow looming closer to the clear water until a voice rose behind him. “Shhhh.” Twyla's voice hadn't been loud enough to warrant a shush, but truthfully, it was for himself. A glimmer of silver danced before his nose, the smooth scales glistening in the light of the sun, reflecting its light right back into the sky. It was then that he lunged, jaws snapping into the cool water as teeth met flesh.

His usual boisterous laugh was muffled by the fish flailing between his jaws as Runar quickly pulled his head from the water. Water pulled at his cheeks, splattering the ground underfoot while he finished and was sure to quickly clamp at the head, securing his kill. Only then did he turn to drop the fish in the space between him and his company and properly address Twyla, “Runar is fishing! Usually not very well, but gods smile today.” And so did he.
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