Am I being foolish?

To be just as much as Warden was probably a tall order. The boy was headstrong, he was a lot. He could be even more, though most days he didn’t want to risk exhausting his mother too much. She tried her best, dad too. Being too much for them wouldn’t reflect well, and was perhaps the only thing that would convince Warden to minimize himself.

Oh shoot, she’d found the fish. Warden shifted to stand next to Triss, looking intently down into the water. He stands tall, trying to focus as much as he can on the fish. “Then we take our nets and—“ Warden realizes just now. They have no nets. This isn’t like the fishing in the Armada, where they simply tangled up the fish in the nets (listen that’s his perception of it, at least) and caught them easy as pie.

“Shoot, we don’t have nets.” He deflates, a bit. “Maybe it’s the same if we just grab them?” The boy questions, now far less sure he could convincingly guess at exactly how fishing worked. Maybe he could play it off well enough. He could try. That, and she’s distracted him now, with talks of packs. “I’ve never been to Insomnia before. Or any other pack actually. Is it nice there?” Right, he’d follow this train of thought, still happily standing in the cold water.