The Wolf's Marine

Fishing

It doesn't take me more than fifteen minutes to get to the lake. There's a secret spot on the lake that is a prime spot.

But you have to park just right so no one can see you. This spot is super secret, I don't want it to be found. So my truck has gotta be hidden.

I drive around the trees that surround the lake. There's a downed tree that blocks an old dirt road. I park the truck right in front of the log.

As soon as I park the truck, I swing my legs out and jump down. I quickly shuffle forward and wrap my arms around the tree.

I lift the tree up, I move it to the side, and set it down.

I go back to my truck and drive it forward twenty feet. I park it and run back and put the tree almost in the same exact position I found it in.

Then I'm back in the truck and driving at a mind blowing speed of five miles an hour down the dirt road.

After another ten minutes of going down this dirt road that winds through this big section of trees, I finally get to the lake.

I park the truck, kill the engine, and hop out. I gather my fishing supplies and a bucket. I then hurriedly head towards the lake. Each breath I take is filled with the beautiful scent of the woods.

I love being out here. It brings back so many memories, mostly of Grandpa taking me fishing here. Others are of me and Mark.

Ah how I loved him. It felt like bliss being with him while fishing. Well, just being around him in general made me feel happy and blissful. Till that fateful day.

I shake my head, tossing all thoughts of that awful man aside.

I finally get to the secret hot spot, and I almost fainted from it's beauty. The sunlight shimmered on the surface of the lake, drawing me to it like a magnet.

Just as I get to the edge of the water, I draw back. Afraid that if I see my reflection I'll have another breakdown.

But I need to fill my bucket with water, so I slowly draw near the water's edge. I look up at the sky as I fill my bucket. Once I feel that my bucket is full I pull it outta the water.

I set my bucket down and sit down on an old fallen log at the edge of the water. I quickly put my new lure on my rod and bait it.

With a flick of my wrist I cast my line out. I sit there enjoying the sounds of nature as I watch my bobber.

After a few minutes my bobber goes under and I reel it in. On the end of my line is a huge sunfish. I have a massive grin on my face as I unhook it and toss it in my bucket.

It doesn't take long for me to catch a few more massive sunnies.

After being there awhile, I noticed there was one sound of nature that didn't quite fit in with the rest.

I turn around to see something that sends chills down my spine.

The wolf growls lowly and stalks forward. I drop my fishing rod and quickly stand up. I then reach for my 9mm. My right hand meets nothing but air. Damn myself for leaving it at home!

I do have one weapon on me. My trusty pocket knife. Well it's not really a pocket knife, it's actually a KA Bar knife. But it's easier to say pocket knife.

My left hand then goes to my knife sheath. In one swift motion my knife is out and ready to cut up some wolf ass.

The wolf stops twenty feet from me and bares its teeth. As it and I have a stare down I realize it looks strangely similar to the wolf in my dream.

Before I realize what's happening, the wolf is running full force towards me. I hardly have time to react before it tackles me.

I struggle under its heavy body. My training kicks it and I send my knife into the wolf's back. It lets out a growl of pain and pulls away from me, taking my knife with it.

I hurriedly stand up while I watch in horror as it shakes my knife out of its back, sending my knife a good 15 feet away.

The wolf growls at me again. "Are you expecting me to be afraid? You don't scare me!" I growl right back at it.

I stand my ground as it circles me, I'm just itching to run forward and grab my knife. But that would give the wolf an opportunity to attack me.

As the wolf and I continue with our stare down I can't help but notice how massive it is. It's easily six feet tall. But since when have wolves got that big? Better question, since when have wolves been living in Jackson?

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when the wolf makes a move that's not circling and I brace myself for attack. But it doesn't happen, instead the wolf takes a few steps back before turning around and disappearing from where it came from.

Taking this as my chance, I lunge forward and grab my knife. I put it back into its sheath but I don't button its top. I might need it again for another fight.

I probably should pack my stuff up and leave though. There's no telling when that wolf might come back.

I hurriedly pack up my tackle before grabbing my bucket and speed walking towards the truck.

At the driver's side of my truck I find a massive
claw marks in the ground. Clearly a warning from the wolf telling me not to come back.

Who's he to tell me where I can and can't fish? I may have been gone for six years, but that doesn't mean this is not my fishing spot. If he wants me gone he'll have to kill me.

(I'm not sure if I gave a number for how long Storm has been gone, and if I have it's been now changed to six.)