Fishing

Lea walked out of the woods, her bloodied knuckles wrapped tightly around the grip of her rapier, and pistol stuffed into the belt wrapped loosely around her waist. The sound of rushing water was what was drawing her, and the sight of the river was the first thing she had seen in some time that put her at ease. She scanned the area to make sure that there were no more beasts coming for her, and set up a fire to ensure that none would approach. The bright light, intense heat, and choking smoke that rose from it was sure to keep any intruders at bay, while the thick scarf wrapped around her face just under her eyes protected her from it.

When the fire was done, she stuck the end of her rapier into the dirt just a few feet away from the flames. She was unconcerned with the risk of losing sharpness - she carried more than enough supplies to keep it sharp for a lifetime of heavy use. And she had more important things to worry about. It took a good while, but she created a makeshift fishing pole from branches and old string she carried on her, a bent nail and bits of meat for hook and bait. And finally done, she sat down on the edge of the river and cast.

The quiet was rare and serene. It reminded Lea of the old days, before her world had been torn asunder and any meaning it had had taken away from her. Back in the good old days when all it took to get by was a little know how and a good spirit. Now it took that and a lust for blood. One that she still didn't quite have.

But she didn't have to think about that as she waited for the fish to bite. She didn't have to think about anything. She just had to wait and react. So she thought about how she would cook her food when she caught it, and how long she would make it lost. She would savor its flavor, eat it perhaps over the course of an hour. And if she could catch more than one... She would live like a queen for days to come.

It was a long time before the first bite came, but she had nothing but time. She was stronger than when last she had done this, and the moment she felt the nibble on her line, she ripped the pole back hard and sent her fish flying into the air, landing on the dirt behind her. She leaped on it ravenously, tearing the hook out of its mouth and striking it hard in the face, crushing its brain and killing it instantly.

It was over the fire and cooking within a minute, and she was back at the water, line cast out once more. This would be a good night.