a net for two

Corbie studied the net with interest as the stranger explained it. She'd never considered such a thing - had never even eaten fish, actually, so didn't really connect to the idea of actively fishing for them - so it was fascinating to learn about. In retrospect, it worked no differently than a snare, really, except slightly scaled up and in the water. It allowed a lone wolf to gather far more food for less effort than traditional hunting methods, without resorting to working with strangers to take down larger game and sharing it out. There were no large water sources where she lived and would continue to live even if she eventually brought her plans for a pack to life, so it might not have the greatest utility for her, but knowledge was knowledge. It was never really wasted. She wanted to see how well it worked, so she stayed and watched the tide move closer and closer to the trap. "Do you wait until the tide goes back out to collect them? What do you do if something too large gets stuck in them?"

The appearance of an extremely subservient looking wolf crawling up to them through the sand provoked immediate concern in Corbie. Not for herself, because she could take care of herself even if the odd wolf turned out to be dangerous, but for the wolf itself. Something seemed wrong with the wolf. She was no healer to be able to figure it out and treat it, but if she'd come across an animal acting so strangely she'd have avoided it rather than hunt it. A brief frown crossed her features at the name the fisher-wolf provided for him. Seven? That was a number, not a name. Stranger names out there, yes, but it spoke to dehumanizing (dewolfanizing?) the strange wolf. And the fact that the fisher knew his name and seemed to be so casual about his behavior was... concerning. "Hello," she said gently to the wolf, Seven. "My name is Corbie. You two know each other?" The question was directed at both Seven and the fisher.