Wanting to empty his head a little bit more than usual, Fenris went over to the bridge to start fishing. Hopping onto the guardrail, he sat down and took a good look around.
Unlike his favorite (only) fishing spot at the lake, there were no trees in sight. The plains and the steppes stretched on unobstructed for miles, the view possessing a different sense of majesty—more austere, yet much grander in scale than the lake’s.
Fenris liked it… but he couldn't really relax. The constant chatter of other people was too loud, so he would have to wait until less people were coming to the area in order for him to fully enjoy the view.
However, perhaps it was actually a good thing that Fenris couldn't completely space out, since another fisherman on the bridge called out to him.
“You there, don't sit on the ledge like that!” The dark green scalekin shouted.
Fenris, perplexed after not finding anyone else nearby, pointed to himself.
“Me…?” he asked.
“Who else would I be talking to?”
Fenris took another look around.
“... Dunno?” He tilted his head.
“... Just get off of there for now.”
———
Once Fenris’s feet were firmly on the ground, the scalekin explained the reason for his scolding.
“The bass ‘round here are pretty feisty, so you’ll get pulled into the water if you're sitting like that,” he said as he went back to his own fishing.
Another fisher was suddenly yanked into the water by the fish on their line.
“... Weren't they standing?” Fenris asked.
“... You're less likely to get pulled into the water if you're standing, got it?”
“I see.” His ears flattened. Swimming was hard.
“Good, looks like you understand… Now then—” The scalekin’s eyes sharpened, locking onto Fenris’s fishing rod. “Do you happen to know a guy named Belphegor?”
“Oh…!” Fenris enthusiastically nodded, his tail wagging in amazement at the scalekin’s deduction. “How did you know…?”
“‘Cause he’s the only one who would hand-make all of that gear,” they snickered. “Not that I blame him. Most of the stuff he makes is better than what you can get on the market.”
“Huh…” Fenris looked at his rod. It did feel comfortable in his hands, but he couldn't tell if that was what the scalekin was talking about.
“That said—” they smirked as a fish pulled on their line. “No matter how good your gear is, what really matters is your skill!”
The scalekin slowly pulled the fish in, expertly maintaining a balance between yielding and fighting it to bring it closer and closer until they were finally able to pull the huge bass out. Wiping their brow (despite the fact that scalekin were physically incapable of sweating), they looked at Fenris with a smug expression that said, ‘whaddya think of that?’
“I see.” Fenris replied as he expressionlessly cast out his own line.
Immediately getting a bite, he yanked on the line with his full strength, launching the even-larger fish through the air and into his arms. “... Did I do it right?”
… Outrageous. The scalekin felt blood rush to his head.
“Say,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “What’s your name?”
“Fenris.”
“Well, Fenris, pal—why don't we have a little... contest? To see who can catch more fish?”
“?? Okay.” Fenris said, not really understanding what was going on.
“Well then…” The scalekin took a deep breath. “Upon my name as Bass Pro Tour Fishing—let us see who is the greater fisher!”
And so, Fenris began his legendary battle (?) against the renowned fishing master, Bass Pro Tour Fishing.
———
Bass Pro Tour Fishing made Belphegor his rival after being beaten in a competition between them. Fenris, being equipped with Belphegor's fishing gear, is basically Bel's disciple—hence Bass Pro Tour's frustration at being one-up'ed.
Wanting to empty his head a little bit more than usual, Fenris went over to the bridge to start fishing. Hopping onto the guardrail, he sat down and took a good look around.
Unlike his favorite (only) fishing spot at the lake, there were no trees in sight. The plains and the steppes stretched on unobstructed for miles, the view possessing a different sense of majesty—more austere, yet much grander in scale than the lake’s.
Fenris liked it… but he couldn't really relax. The constant chatter of other people was too loud, so he would have to wait until less people were coming to the area in order for him to fully enjoy the view.
However, perhaps it was actually a good thing that Fenris couldn't completely space out, since another fisherman on the bridge called out to him.
“You there, don't sit on the ledge like that!” The dark green scalekin shouted.
Fenris, perplexed after not finding anyone else nearby, pointed to himself.
“Me…?” he asked.
“Who else would I be talking to?”
Fenris took another look around.
“... Dunno?” He tilted his head.
“... Just get off of there for now.”
———
Once Fenris’s feet were firmly on the ground, the scalekin explained the reason for his scolding.
“The bass ‘round here are pretty feisty, so you’ll get pulled into the water if you're sitting like that,” he said as he went back to his own fishing.
Another fisher was suddenly yanked into the water by the fish on their line.
“... Weren't they standing?” Fenris asked.
“... You're less likely to get pulled into the water if you're standing, got it?”
“I see.” His ears flattened. Swimming was hard.
“Good, looks like you understand… Now then—” The scalekin’s eyes sharpened, locking onto Fenris’s fishing rod. “Do you happen to know a guy named Belphegor?”
“Oh…!” Fenris enthusiastically nodded, his tail wagging in amazement at the scalekin’s deduction. “How did you know…?”
“‘Cause he’s the only one who would hand-make all of that gear,” they snickered. “Not that I blame him. Most of the stuff he makes is better than what you can get on the market.”
“Huh…” Fenris looked at his rod. It did feel comfortable in his hands, but he couldn't tell if that was what the scalekin was talking about.
“That said—” they smirked as a fish pulled on their line. “No matter how good your gear is, what really matters is your skill!”
The scalekin slowly pulled the fish in, expertly maintaining a balance between yielding and fighting it to bring it closer and closer until they were finally able to pull the huge bass out. Wiping their brow (despite the fact that scalekin were physically incapable of sweating), they looked at Fenris with a smug expression that said, ‘whaddya think of that?’
“I see.” Fenris replied as he expressionlessly cast out his own line.
Immediately getting a bite, he yanked on the line with his full strength, launching the even-larger fish through the air and into his arms. “... Did I do it right?”
… Outrageous. The scalekin felt blood rush to his head.
“Say,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “What’s your name?”
“Fenris.”
“Well, Fenris, pal—why don't we have a little... contest? To see who can catch more fish?”
“?? Okay.” Fenris said, not really understanding what was going on.
“Well then…” The scalekin took a deep breath. “Upon my name as Bass Pro Tour Fishing—let us see who is the greater fisher!”
And so, Fenris began his legendary battle (?) against the renowned fishing master, Bass Pro Tour Fishing.
———
Bass Pro Tour Fishing made Belphegor his rival after being beaten in a competition between them. Fenris, being equipped with Belphegor's fishing gear, is basically Bel's disciple—hence Bass Pro Tour's frustration at being one-up'ed.
