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Oliver had never asked where the canoe came from. It was old and dusty, languishing in a Life division store room for as long as he could remember. A good 16 footer, with a red fibreglass hull, and wood gunwales. Three cedar paddles were tucked along it's rounded side. It looked as though it hadn't been touched for years.

As an exceptionally healthy young man, he had no trouble hoisting the boat up onto his shoulders like he had seen his father do so many years ago. The Life intermediate was by no means a pro at canoeing, but he had grown up in a small, riverside town, and it was a skill that had been instilled in him at an early age. He had learned to paddle in the calm water with his father back before the accident, when weekend trips were still a regular thing. All that had stopped when his mother died though. Lots of things had stopped…

Thoughts of the past were no longer as painful as they used to be. Trying to get the canoe out of the store room had hurt more, when bumping the front of the canoe near the door upset it's perch on his shoulders, and caused the whole thing to slip and fall onto Oliver's head with a loud thump. He had almost gone down under it. That had not been his best moment… But ten minutes later he had carried the thing out to the beach with no further mishaps. Then with the paddles and some 'essential tools' loaded, he was ready hop in and set out.

The sun was bright, the wind was calm... a good day to see if any skills remained after seven years.

Oliver's calm gaze was interrupted by a familiar voice, and he flailed away from the sudden sound. One foot splashed lightly in the waves, and the boy leapt away from that as well, tripping over his own feet and landing on his backside in the sand.

"N-no!" He stammered, scrambling to his feet with the help of the beached canoe next to him. "I-I mean, y-yes! Um..."

Oliver blinked up at Claude with a nervous expression, as though unsure which answer she wanted to hear. It sounded like she disapproved from the way her question was phrased, but there were so many ways to disapprove. Did she not think he could manage a canoe? Did she think the waves were too much? Or the water was too cold?

"D-did you... uh... want to come too?" He finally asked timidly.

He hadn't worried about the titans... not until Claude asked at least.

"N-no, I d-don't want to go out too far. But there are some more shallow areas around here..." He scratched the scar across his nose and looked down at the boat rather than meet Claude's eyes. "I think it might, um, be easier... to uh, catch samples... i-if I'm on the water," he stammered nervously.

Although once it had been one of the worst things about his division, being bullied into going down to the beaches to try and catch little monstrous creatures, Oliver had slowly become more skilled at retrieving the samples. Over the past few months he had discovered many places where the rocky coastal shelf kept the more frightful monsters at a distance. This particular beach was one of those locations, but although he often came out armed with sticks and rope and bait, the less-titanous precursors could be hard to catch when he was stuck on the rocks.

If Oliver was confident enough to try paddling out across the shallower areas of the rocky coastline, it had to mean any increased risk was negligible. Although now that Claude had planted the idea in his mind, he was starting to worry.

Although Claude didn't say as much, she seemed to evaluate the situation and come to a conclusion for herself. In a way Oliver was relieved to have the company. It was safer to do your boating with someone else.

He waited as the woman began hauling the canoe into the water, and gave her time to hop in before pushing the back end off and stepping in himself. The canoe swayed, and crunched lightly in the sand as he put his full weight inside. Already it was bringing back memories. He kneeled on the bottom of the canoe, resting his butt against the wooden and wicker seat instead of sitting on top, and pulled out one of the paddles. As it all came back to him, he wondered if it would have been possible to forget the feeling at all.

Oliver used the tip of the paddle to push off, and then they were fully afloat in the water.

"Which side do you paddle on?" He asked, already beginning to sound a bit more confident. He dipped his own paddle into the water, and the canoe wiggled through the waves until he got the feel for a straight stroke.

"Um... out by those rocks, I think," Oliver replied, adjusting his stroke so the boat pointed towards the area in question. It was a cluster of rocky spikes that rose out of the water, only a few metres out from the shore itself. Close enough to see, but far enough that the creatures swimming nearby were completely uncatchable.

He matched Claude's stroke, and they were able to move rather quickly through the water. She wasn't very talkative, but the sounds of water around the boat were distantly familiar, and so much easier to respond to. He didn't have to stammer out a single word.

"Um... I d-don't know," Oliver admitted, pausing in his paddling to think about this one for a minute. It wasn't crucial that they stay in one place, but it would make it easier to lure in little creatures. As they got closer, he could already see dark shapes swimming around, flitting away from his paddle as it slipped through the water.

Mentally he took stock of what supplies he had brought with him for the excursion. There was some extra rope in his bag, they could tie the boat off on the rocks if drifting wasn't an option. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Claude, is there a rope attached to the front of the boat?" He asked, perking up somewhat. He thought he had seen one, a coiled ball of yellow nylon rope tucked up at the very front while he had been carrying the canoe.

All he really needed were one or two samples, it wouldn't be that bad even if he was mistaken. With that in mind, he leaned forward to grab some of his supplies. There were two large buckets next to his backpack, but although both buckets had a lid, there was nothing inside when he cracked them open.

It was more than alright, the kid's eyes practically sparkled with awe. Claude must have been a pirate and a cowboy to manage a toss that accurate. It was a feat far beyond Oliver's own clumsy capacities, which meant she would be showered with amazement whether he was aware of the child-like admiration or not.

He nodded, giving the silent question a silent answer, had his expression alone not made things clear. Then he busied himself once again with the preparations. Dipping one of the two buckets into the water below, Oliver nearly fell over the side as he hauled it back up. The boat swayed, but his centre of balance was good, and somehow he pulled the heavy load over the gunwale and split the water between both buckets. It looked like it should have been too heavy for the meek teen, but the weight didn't seem to bother him.

"Okay..." Oliver finally sighed to himself as he examined their work. Claude had secured them to the rocks, he had buckets ready, now they just had to catch something.

Then he pulled a small bag of chips from the backpack, cracked it open, and offered it to Claude as though forgetting entirely why they were out there.

Oliver stuffed a chip into his mouth with a loud and happy crunch. "Uhm..." Thankfully he took a second to chew and swallow before trying to reply. "Anything, really. The lab staff isn't very picky... And I can't always catch the first thing I find."

He took another chip out of the bag, but instead of tossing it into his mouth he crunched it in his hand, and then sprinkled the pieces into the water next to the boat.

"I think... this will bring some things over," he muttered, leaning over the side to watch the floating pieces. His focus was on the gentle waves, but he reached into the bag with one distracted hand to remove a simple aquarium net. One large enough to easily catch a fish the size of his hand. "Blood is usually the best to lure them, but I don't like doing it that way. It gets kinda gross..."

At first there were only a couple small fish rising to take the bait. Then a small, dark fish with tentacles where it's mouth was supposed to be. Oliver waited still and quiet.