Gossamer headed out to the great river without too much of a plan. All she knew was that she needed to go for a walk and wrap her head around her situation. She had much to do in order to be worthy of the rank of lieutenant and she found herself filled with a bit of jealousy at Briar and Kotori. They made it seem so easy. They were both so confident. She knew Ophelia would know how she was feeling, maybe her larger sister could offer her some solace if not counsel. Aris might be the black sheep of the family but she had a certain amount of confidence and direction that was also worthy of envy. She had lofty goals. Gossamer just felt inadequate.

Dagrún stalked along the edge of the Rio Grande, looking for either an opponent or a good fishing hole. She was on break and didn't really know what to do with herself. Fishing seemed like a good option, if she could just find a nice inlet or area where the river drifted farther into the shore. As it was she would be fishing in deep, wide open water and that wouldn't do. Sperla had been working on a means for her to fish more effectively. The little kestrel was skilled at nabbing minnows and small fish out of the water. She had a thin string on which there was a hook and bait but they still had yet to master it. For now Dag would rely on her claws.

Gossamer sighed heavily. She found a patch of green grass, nestled beneath a gnarled tree and she settled inside the little nook to think and watch the river flow on by. She wasn't sitting there for long when she spied a pretty femme walking the edge of the river. It took her a moment but she recognized the girl as Dagrún of Fireside. She squinted. She'd heard that Fireside had been up to know good, marking a bear head to look like her father's and tossing it across the border. She was out of the loop of the conflict but knew to be wary. She stayed where she was for the moment, just watching.

Dagrún paused as she found a small, circular inlet where a portion of the river flowed into the shore then spun back out. Within the stiller waters she could see a number of fish and it was shallow enough that she could walk right in. With a grin Dag quietly entered the water. Step by step she went deeper, watching as the fish scattered. The water was cool but far warmer than it would've been if it were winter. As she stood there, still, the fish soon regained confidence and began to swim around her. She watched them for awhile, her jaws hovering above the water. These were small fresh water fish. Some day she'd try her paw fishing at the salmon run.

Gossamer watched the Fireside wolf quietly, taking in her lithe form. The other yearling was attractive, she'd give the girl that. Gossy looked away suddenly feeling ashamed. What was she doing? Feeling a pull toward a potential enemy was not something her parents would be proud of. She glanced shyly again at Dagrún as Ásta's words echoed in her mind.

Shame was not an unfamiliar feeling for the young Fatalis. She felt ashamed for leaving the family after her mother's death. Shame in losing to a decrepit, old pirate. Ásta warned her not to cling to much to her feelings of shame or going out of her way to right them, explaining that shame was her internalizing other's beliefs about who she should be. She needed to reconnect with herself. But what did that even mean?

Dagrún was intently focused on her fishing, watching the fish swim round and round. When a particularly plump one passed nearly in front of her face her jaws lanced down snagging a small bluegill. Well, that worked for her! With a grin she pranced out of the water, using her claws to slit the gils and bleed it out quickly. She shook the water from her pelt and immediately started digging in even though the fish was still twitching. She was hungry and nothing was going to sway her from her meal. Sperla landed in a nearby tree, a small fish in her beak that she also started to work at.

Gossamer continued to watch the other yearling as she struggled to sort not only through what she was seeing but also what she was feeling. She watched the athletic girl dive her head into the water with the grace of a heron, emerging with a fish secure in her jaws. She felt tremendous guilt that she was sitting here doing basically nothing. Her siblings were probably actually being productive, working toward the greater good of the Armada. She was sitting here having lewd thoughts about a potential enemy.

Ásta would say that guilt was proof that she was living life in other people's expectations of what she should do. But didn't those expectations have merit? If everyone in the Armada did whatever they pleased whenever they felt like it the whole pack would fall apart.