Darras gives over the line easily enough. Yseult has proved herself clever with fishing, as she is clever with nearly all things. His gaze lingers on her a moment longer, a faint furrow to his brow. She's looking at the water now. She might be able to see him out of her periphery anyways, or sense his look.

"There's a fish on the line, nearly. Wait a moment longer and we'll have one more, and isn't that better."