one step of a million

It was a bit rude to offer a half-eaten fish to someone. Especially when it was bloody, almost done and drooled on. The girl seemed grateful for the assistance, moving closer. She was a pale thing, a wisp really. Seemed like she was a vagabond like Wren. There was no interest in leaning to fish though. While the girl was there and accounted for, her interest was not in learning. It was making sure she was fed.

The young woman shrugged it off. She already offered and there was no harm. Sybil gave her name though. "Wren" she added, moving away from the half-eaten fish and to the edge of the water. She did little else different. Tapping the surface of the waves, the dumb fish came back. Attracted by sound, ripples, despite there being blood in the water. One. Two. Now! She flashed a limb out, hooking a fish and dragging it up.

But she didn't do all the work. She more or less deposited the flopping beastie in front of Sybil, awaiting a clear chomp to end it's life. That or suffocate on land. Wren backed off, back to her own meal that she placed near the girl. If she wanted to chit-chat, she was here for it.