One of the things the Warlord had worked on well he had been den bound, was this contraption. The sharpened spares had been tossed gently beside him as spares, sharpened and shaped in a strange way. He had heard of fisherman back in the old Empire, but he had never taken the time to learn. This was either going to go terribly, or wonderfully.

He looked down at the cliff off the gamit Briar, overlooking the Bifrost. It was a decent drop, enough to make his head spin. He had unleashed the first shaped spear into the water, the rope made from roughened fibres sitting beside him, connecting the contraption to the water below. He had pinched some of Riva’s honey, and glued it to the spear with tree sap. Now, he just had to wait, and see if anything came of this little adventure.

The idea had come to him when Io had mentioned the hardships in hunting in the pack. It was true that the herds were out of whack after the volcano, fish might be another decent source of food, if he could figure out a way to bring in a decent hoard. He leaned back on his hunches, and looked up into the sunset as he waited for any sign of a tug on his rope.

"Well doesn't that look interesting." Iolaire had come upon her brother doing some sort of fishing experiment.  She'd heard of other wolves using a line to reel in fish, but she'd never tried it herself. Coming up beside the giant, she peered over the edge and into the water. It didn't look as if he'd had any luck yet. She didn't have the heart to tell him that there were better ways. Ways that didn't test your patience. Maybe if he asked...

Iolaire sat beside her behemoth of a sibling and leaned her small frame against him. "This is nice, don't you think? No responsibilities. Good company. Just some niiiice relaxation." She figured he would have had enough of relaxation, but this was relaxation on his terms. That was different. Iolaire eyed the man and gave him a thump with her thick tail. "For the record, I don't eat fish."

It was a game of patience, and for the most part the Warlord wasn’t a patient creature. The fishing line was anchored into the ground, and left mostly to its self. The warlord watched the sunset, and let time slip him past, and found the activity largely boring. Still, it had been worth a try, and he had especially found working on the parts of it had kept him sane well his injury had slowly healed.

“Boring, for the most part” he corrected his sister. He had heard her light steps, and flicked an ear in her direction when she had come into his view. “Here I thought I had found peace away from nagging healers” his eyes danced, so she would know his words were nothing but jest. “Too bad, i’m serving it for the next ten meals” he promised her.

Iolaire released a dramatic gasp as Sirius made his comment about nagging healers. "And all this time I was under the impression that you enjoyed my company." She tsked and shook her head in mock disapproval. It was enjoyable to joke around with him.  It allowed her to sharpen her sarcastic wit and it was generally pleasant to take advantage of him while he was an invalid.

Sirius spoke of serving fish and the small dame wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Good thing that I'm an adult and I can find my own food. I'd rather eat a bird or a nest of field mice." Those things were up Iolaire's alley. She wasn't exactly large and couldn't take down very big prey. The largest she'd ever killed was a rabbit. She was pretty good at that. Mice were her specialty, however. She learned to hunt them by watching cats and foxes. Then she just melded those two styles together and bam. Mouse hunter extraordinaire.

"How's the leg?" She knew how the leg was, but what else was there to talk about while just sitting semi-quietly next to water? She watched the pole as they spoke, attentive for any sort of wiggling or jerking of the string.