After Muerda had walked for some while she came across water. It was fresh beautiful water. Her green eyes staring at the water not sure what to do. Surely there was fish in there for food but she wasn't one who cared for fish much. Whispering softly to herself "Oh hvordan jeg har savnet den søte vann.". It was her native tongue. No one knew about it because Muerda thought it would be weird for others to know. Her language had been Norwegian, something she did not come across often. Saying these words soft and swift with a light accent. Not like the usual thick accents.
Breaking into a fast trot Muerda headed straight for the water. The smell of fish was strong but that didn't stop her. Coming up to the bank she took a few laps of the water. It was cold and refreshing. Tilting her head up she noticed the sky was dark. In her mind this meant a storm would soon appear whether it be in hours, days or weeks she was sure a storm would come. Maybe not a big one, just a storm.
Walking into the water a bit she was determined to get a fish just to satisfy her hunger. Muerda hadn't ate in about five or six days. Slowly she watched some fish swim by they seemed to be Coho Salmon. Trying to be fast Muerda would splash her muzzle in and try to bite a fish. After her fifth time at trying she simply gave up.
She hadn't liked fished any ways so there was no need to get frustrated, but she did anyways. "Pokker fisk. Jeg håper dere alle dør.". Getting out of the water she sunk down into the grass just to enjoy the view of everything. Later on she would fix her hunger.