fins and scales and tasty delights

Although winter had taken hold of Boreas, it was lovely and mild and nothing compared to the endless months of cold she'd known all of her life. A chilly breeze almost felt balmy compared to what she remembered of the frozen wastelands. Fable had set out to look for more bodies of water to discover other varieties of fish. The different textures and varieties that could be found between types of fish was baffling and wonderful - she was determined to taste every kind of morsel she could. The murky smell of the mangroves had beckoned to her. This was a new type of hunting ground such the like she'd never experienced. No open stretches of water greeted her, just half-hidden depths and pools between trees. Their roots stretched deep, digging into the ground like many-fingered hands. Fable wrinkled her nose at the slight smell - it was difficult to pick apart what was detritus and what might be prey, even in the cold. A gentle current washed in and out, disrupting any ice that might form, but some stagnant pools between trees had a thin layer of ice upon them. She pulled up to one such pool, carefully observing the wraith-like shadows that spun beneath the ice. Fish? Foe? Fable wasn't quite sure.