Rays of sunlight filtered through the boughs and branches of the forest, a gently breeze slowly rocking the canopy of leaves that lined the wide river Ora. Springtime in the Serenian river lands was absolutely beautiful, a sight to behold. It was also ripe time for fishing.
If one followed the eastern riverbank upstream about fifty leagues north of Arca, they'd eventually come across Painu the ferryman's dock and his wattle and daub house next to the shore. The home wasn't a pretty structure, but it did it's job with its thatch roof and mud-covered walls. The dock was pretty standard, if a bit small; wood masts with a planked surface and some rope to tie down the otter-kin's raft with. There was nothing terribly fancy about the entire set up, but for someone alone in the woods, it was home.
It was about noon when Painu's last trip across the river for the morning had finished, with the riverdog's raft finally hitched to the moor with a knot that would impress even the most knowledgeable of sailors. Even though he still had provisions in the box on his raft, he preferred to leave those for any weary travelers who might happen by from the path later in the day, leaving the otter to pull his own food from the calm current under his feet... Not that he minded!
Twitching his whiskers, he disappeared into his home, reemerging a few minutes with a long piece of river cane in one paw and a basket in the other. Plopping down on dock, he pulled out of the basket a length of twine, a hook, and a cork bottle-stopper from his last bottle of mead. A few knots and cuts of the knife later, he had a serviceable fishing pole. While he could have easily dived down into the river and nabbed any old fish, he wasn't in any rush; if someone came by needing to cross the river, he's just take the fishing rod with him. For the moment, though, Painu just sat on the docks, humming an old sea shanty as his cork bobber idly rocked in the current, his tail thumping the beat.
