[ Growing up in Mississippi, Rogue remembers watching people fish on the river, with rods and reels and all the assorted accoutrements. What she's watching now is very different - these people are fishing not out of sport, but for their livelihoods. It's likely that most if not all of them are following in their ancestors' footsteps, having learned the craft from the previous generation. This is the sort of thing that was lost in her world, stripped away by the war that tore humanity to pieces, and she finds such comfort in that level of tradition continuing to exist in this little corner of the universe.
The sudden voice pulls her attention away, her mind having been so fully focused on the picturesque scene before them. It's not startling though, her instincts attuned to the connection between them despite this being their first meeting. Turning toward him, the smile she wears may not be visible, but it can certainly be felt. ]
Hey there, sugar. You thinking of trying your hand at it when they come back?
[ She's seen a few of the others go out in the boats; why not him? ]
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The sudden voice pulls her attention away, her mind having been so fully focused on the picturesque scene before them. It's not startling though, her instincts attuned to the connection between them despite this being their first meeting. Turning toward him, the smile she wears may not be visible, but it can certainly be felt. ]
Hey there, sugar. You thinking of trying your hand at it when they come back?
[ She's seen a few of the others go out in the boats; why not him? ]