just a late night snack

He held the fish still for her so that she could take the blow - impressed, a little, that she did not shy away from the act. Not really. He followed her back to the shore, careful to hold the now-dead fish above the sand so that none of the nasty, gritty particles would collect on the wet scales. He'd place it down on some rocks in a moment. That voice in his head kept his attention on the fae, and he dipped his head at her words - appreciating the formality. He doubted he would ever collect but it was never a bad thing, he had heard, to be owed a favour from one of their kind. His armoured head dipped to her in farewell before he moved in the opposite direction, searching for a non-sandy spot where he could enjoy his meal.

art by littlewillow-art at deviantart.com