As in:
When they reached the rendezvous point via a graceful, spiraling landing on their Osprey, Solomon and Winsley were unnerved to see that Godfrey H. had not come alone. Rather, he was accompanied by a half dozen juvenile large mouth bass who swam in formation behind the large fish, like the first three rows of a bowling rack.
By the very definition of the circumstances, this was going to be a trust-building exercise. Fully prepared for this, Winsley had promised the Osprey a generous tip if he would perch at the top of a white pine from where he could throw his shadow down upon the meeting site. If he were to see a bass eating a frog, he was instructed to make the swoop and administer talons to the offending fish. He would be well compensated for this, he was assured, and would be allowed eat whatever part of the bass that was not immediately intertwined with the frog.
Neither she nor Solomon had counted on seeing so many fish, though, and this required Winsley to do the introductions, as she was the braver of the two frogs and this was, after all, her idea. Solomon was so afraid of becoming bass food that he was shaking and could not have spoken except to scream.
“What’s up with the posse?” Winsley asked as soon as she’d introduced herself and Solomon.
“Grandchildren,” Godfrey H. replied, popping loose a couple bubbles as he spoke. “I told them they could meet some real frogs if they behaved themselves.”
The way he said it was very disarming. Winsley had imagined what it would be like to be attacked by bass, and this was not that. She was sure. This was a bass she could do business with.
Before he could even ask, she presented him with a sample basket of night-crawler/cricket rocha. His eyes opened and he smiled, as much as a bass could smile, then cradled the package with his right pectoral fin. He then gently bit two pieces off and pooched them out of his mouth in the direction of his grand-brood. The young fish did the rest, carefully making sure each got a similar-sized portion. When they finished they immediately rearranged themselves in formation behind their grandfather.
“We think it’s delicious,” Godfrey H. said, pushing the empty basket back to Winsley with his magnificently large upper lip. “What can we do for you?”
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