The day progressed steadily as Kael Veyra sat on Echo's deck under the high midday sun. The sea lay calm around him. His stomach growled, so he reached into his sack and pulled out a coil of string and a bent hook he had found at Driftend's docks. "Time to eat," he said as he tied the string with clumsy fingers. The knot slipped twice before it held. He cast the line over the side, watching the hook sink into the water, then settled back with his gray eyes fixed on the surface.
The gentle motion of the skiff kept a steady rhythm, but the line remained slack, moving slowly in the water. Kael frowned and tugged at it, only to have the string tangle in his hand with loops and knots. "Come on," he muttered, unravelling the mess with a scowl. He had seen his father fish with quick, sure casts that always brought in a catch, but this method was awkward and raw, and he felt the pressure of the task alone.
Time passed as the sun beat down and sweat formed on his brow. He adjusted his grip and cast the line again. This time the hook sank deeper. "Better," he said with a small smile, waiting with the string held tight between his fingers. He leaned forward, holding his breath, hoping for a bite.
A sudden tug on the line made his heart race. "Got you," he announced, pulling hard despite the string cutting into his palm. The water broke, and a small fish, gray and sleek, thrashed briefly before Kael hauled it aboard. Its scales reflected the light as it flopped on the deck. He laughed with rough satisfaction and pinned it with his knee, then grabbed his rusty knife.
"Stay still," he ordered the fish in a firm voice as he made a quick, careful cut. The fish went limp, and its innards spilled onto the wood. Kael grimaced at the sharp smell. He cut away the head and tossed it overboard, then held up the body, noting its pale, slick flesh. "Not much," he said, but inside he felt a flicker of pride.
He sat back, wiped the knife on his coat, and began eating the raw fish. It was tough and salty, with a faint bitterness that made him chew slowly. "Better than nothing," he muttered as he forced down each bite. He ate half the fish and saved the rest, then leaned against the mast and cleaned his fingers.
After finishing, Kael recast the line. "Not bad," he said softly, speaking more to himself than to the water. The memory of Roger's laugh; bold and free, drifted through his mind. He nodded slightly as he regarded the fish as a small win, a step forward in the world that Roger's words had promised.
He then cast the line again, allowing the hook to sink deeper, and sat back as the day stretched ahead, his hands steady with the satisfaction of his catch.