Harry Hunter naturally followed Isabella Weaver, taking the basket for her, and walked with her into the forest.
David, now the top bodyguard, had to follow to prevent any unexpected incidents.
The forest was lush and green, with clear streams flowing down from the mountain, filled with shimmering small fish.
"Hey, there are fish! Honey, there are fish!"
"You're not allowed to keep them; we already have big fish and small fish at home."
"But these are medium-sized fish."
"No more fish of any kind." Otherwise, if a fish dies, she'd be upset again, and now he had to ensure the survival of those few in the tank every day, which is hard enough. There can't be more, or he'd be exhausted.
"Alright, I won't keep them, but can I catch a few to fry and eat?"
Harry nodded, "David, catch the fish, Young Madam wants to eat them."
No matter how skilled David was, it wasn't realistically possible to catch slippery little silver fish by hand in the stream, so he called Jace to bring tools.
