“The fish view you as a presence outside their own world,” he said, tearing the small fish off of the knife and throwing it into the water. She almost reached in to grab it, wondering for what reason the Fisherman would waste a prospective meal. But watching the body, watching its death soak within the waters, she understood as other, larger fish began to swarm near. He then handed her his spear. “In order to kill them, you must first make them accept your presence. To view you not as an intruder, but as something that was always there to begin with.”
