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Gladio felt like he'd chosen well; Noct would have loved fishing in the spot. Granted, Noct would have loved fishing pretty much anywhere, but it was quiet and peaceful and nicely removed from everywhere else, so he would have approved. Most of the good fishing would probably be done tomorrow morning, but there might still be a few bites as evening settled around them, after they'd set up camp and gotten their poles. Hopefully at leas tenough for Iggy to fry up something good for their dinner. But it wasn't really about the fishing, anyway, a sentiment that Prompto offered up in due time.
( This is nice.... )
They might all have to figure out a few things, really, although there was always the chance that it didn't mean anything at all. It could also mean...everything, and there was no way of knowing. But, at the very least, at least they would momentarily be spared having to think on it too much just then, as Prompto felt a harsh tug at the end of his line, let out a surprised yelp, and quickly got up to brace himself in trying to reel the fish in. Swept up and occupied by the sudden excitement and the fine art of backseat fishing and bickering, they were able to pull up the impressive bass, which then passed Ignis' inspection, and a unilateral decision was made, one much easier to answer than the question that would now be worming its way through their brains: they were quickly losing light, and it was time to eat.
[[ mostly establishy, but absolutely open if anyone wants to get in touch with any bros via phone, or hell, even crash the campsite, if you wanted! ]]
( This is nice.... )
They might all have to figure out a few things, really, although there was always the chance that it didn't mean anything at all. It could also mean...everything, and there was no way of knowing. But, at the very least, at least they would momentarily be spared having to think on it too much just then, as Prompto felt a harsh tug at the end of his line, let out a surprised yelp, and quickly got up to brace himself in trying to reel the fish in. Swept up and occupied by the sudden excitement and the fine art of backseat fishing and bickering, they were able to pull up the impressive bass, which then passed Ignis' inspection, and a unilateral decision was made, one much easier to answer than the question that would now be worming its way through their brains: they were quickly losing light, and it was time to eat.
[[ mostly establishy, but absolutely open if anyone wants to get in touch with any bros via phone, or hell, even crash the campsite, if you wanted! ]]
