The bunny was still chewing on a half-eaten carrot when they came upon the stream, bubbling softly in the distance.

Sloane felt it first, the way the ground seemed to soften with each step, giving way a little from the signs of water. The moss here was a lot thicker, spongy and glossy with water, clinging to the surrounding stones and roots. The trees parted to a thinning bush with dew thick on the branches and moisture heavy in the air.

The stream itself was small, a silvery ribbon created from winding glacial melt that tumbled through shale and dark stone. The water was so clear it seemed almost like glass, light glinting over its surface like wavering gemstones. But it was the movement within that immediately caught her eye, had her grumbling belly growling only louder.

A dart of silver, and then another.

Fish.

“We can sell this,” the words escaped her almost immediately. Her eyes were still trained on the small creatures, no longer than her hand, that danced through the current, darting up and down. Even Riven seemed pleased, quietly munching with large eyes instead of dropping another snarky comment.

The fish were quick, scales flaring with the sunlight as they twisted through the pools like slivers of ice. They slipped into a hollow spot, a natural basin that scooped into the land where ferns and cattails grew thick upon a bed of riverweeds. It would be difficult to catch them, but Sloane had caught tons of fish in the second year of the apocalypse.

She could do it again with enough patience and time.

The burn of Riven’s fear was what had her turning to look at him, his sweet scent curdling with a pinch of acid. His anxiety now twisted from his throat, and the bunny’s ears were alert and standing. “This looks like a place we might find feral. It looks like a spot they’d come to.”

“It was hidden,” she said. “Don’t you want the meat?”

He shut up then, eyes growing wider and shaky. The carrot was still between his lips, still being chewed. The evidence of her abilities had him just a tad more appreciative of her newfound talent, and she could see it growing in his eyes.

She threw him another bone. “Just keep a lookout for me, I know you will be able to hear them if they come.”

“Fine,” he accepted, nose quivering, loudly swallowing. “I haven’t had fish in ages.”

She stepped into the banks then, fingers poised above the stream’s surface. The water lapped at her ankles, pure ice crawling through her bones, but she did not flinch. It was muscle memory that had her growing stiff and careful, moving quietly from years as a hunter in the sands.

The fish flickered, tension twitching through lithe bodies. They were skittish, but she was patient, too patient when her palms dipped. She did not have a moment to be surprised when the fish seemed to dart away almost immediately. A shatter of silver fins disappearing into the stream.

Fuck.

This was going to take awhile.

Her curse was already on the tip of her tongue, swept from her throat with a soft cry. Riven’s answering hiss was coupled with a groan of frustration. But she stilled then. Because instead of darting away, some of those stupid fish were coming back towards her. They seemed curious, drawn. And she froze when one small body brushed against her thumb, another swimming into her touch lazily as if it did not see her.

No struggle.

No panic.

They were attracted to her fucking hands like idiots.

The first fish folded into her waiting palms like it belonged there. And without thinking, she snatched it up into the air and flung it hard against the rocks. It slapped wetly against the stone, flailing hard, water splashing all over. And Riven yelped, fumbling to catch it, twisting it tight in his grip. They exchanged glances then, wide-eyed, breath lodged in their throats.

That wasn’t just instinct.

That wasn’t just skill.

That was almost like magic.

Riven’s face was filled with pure disbelief, as if she’d just plucked meat from the sky and handed it to him with her hands. His lips were parted, jaw hanging open into the most stupidly comedic expression she’d ever seen on his face.

And Sloane, still crouched in the water, still stunned, barked out a breathless laugh.

Read ahead on

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/tinyeyecat

Inkitt Subscription: https://www.inkitt.com/tinyeyecat