The sun was setting over the western horizon, painting the sky in a vibrant slurry of red, orange and purple. Thick clouds boiled upwards in a declaration of defiance of the waning summer light, promising torrential rain and possibly even a thunderstorm later in the evening.
The summer season was in full swing in the northern hemisphere of Mobius. But more specifically, the Azure Lake Zone, home of one Advrik the Wolf, better known as Rik or even Rookie if one were part of the Resistance Army. Living a life of solitude in the hills surrounding the vast blue lake in which the zone got its name, the lone wolf spends his days fishing, both for sport and to keep his belly full.
That is when he isn’t setting the hook on adventures that have quite literally taken him to other universes.
The cool air emanating off the nearby waterfall did little to combat the late-day humidity. The sweat caused his fur to stick to his forehead and the back of his neck, splashing outward with each impact of the hammer as it connected with the top of the fence post, driving it deeper and deeper into the ground.
“Phew, and only six more to go,” the wolf declared, wiping his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. He had, at long last, decided to build a forever home in the land of his birth. Not quite in town where he actually grew up, but within running distance when he needed supplies.
His den was modest in size, dug into one of the many rolling hills that made up the northernmost area of Azure Lake, at the base of a small waterfall that led into one of his favorite trout streams.
A south-facing window carved out of the cliffside overlooked the zone, the giant lake at the center of it and the mountain pass that led out and away. Sure, the view didn’t have the same level of impact that his family home had way up there on the literal mountainside town of Azulburg, but it was a view he could claim as his very own now.
Piled up longways across the front of the hillside den, just to the right of the rounded doorway, was a pile of fencing supplies. Splitrailing corner posts, midway posts and the rails themselves. Enough to create a rustic outline for what would eventually become his yard.
Jingle, jingle…
Tiny bells jangled from the tip of a nearby fishing rod, propped up by a Y-shaped stick stuck into the ground. No sooner had the bells jingled did the wolf dropped what he was doing and dashed across the grassy terrain to retrieve his rod and set the hook!
He pulled back in the opposite direction the line was pulling in, creating tension and ensuring that whatever had taken the bait wasn’t going to shake itself loose without a fight. The reel ground as the line was pulled off the reel by the mystery fish, causing the drag to screech.
“Aw yeah, this is happening! I knew there had to be something lurking in that pool!”
The waterfall up the ways, some seventy-five feet or so away from the hill his den had been dug out of, fell only about a quarter of that length. It flowed fast enough from smaller underground rivers that flowed downwards from higher up. The water flowed downward, creating a small stream that eventually merged with the greater lake the zone was known for, leaving in its wake a stream that was perfect for trout and panfish, with the occasional deeper pool that could occasionally house catfish and carp.
After a few steady minutes of fighting, the fish began to show shins of exhaustion as the line went slack. Rik took the opportunity and reeled, pulling the fishy fiend towards the surface and revealing its identity: A decent-sized Black Bullhead catfish!
With its last burst of energy, the catfish flapped its thick tail, slapping the surface of the water as it made one last attempt at diving back to safer, darker waters.
Finally, the sun had descended beyond the horizon and the sky, replaced now by the infinite stretch of space, half-obscured by the rising cumulonimbus clouds from earlier. A late-night thunderstorm was all but assured.
Rik drizzled some more soy sauce onto the roasting catfish fillet, held at just the proper distance from the hot coals contained within the makeshift fire pit. The fishy smell mingled with the scent of various herbs and seasonings that he’d sprinkled onto the meat.
He leaned back against the grassy hillside that doubled as the exterior wall to his home, savoring the aroma and relishing in the cooling air that promised turbulent weather later. He’d had slept outside tonight otherwise, knowing the air conditioning unit wouldn’t be installed until the solar panels went up on the cliffs above tomorrow morning. He could only hope that the storm would stick around the rest of the night, keeping the humidity at bay so he could sleep with his windows open(of which his house could only have two).
Yes, life on Mobius had been sweet recently, but there was always some cataclysmic event unfurling or a nasty villain waiting around the corner to stir up some trouble for Mobians everywhere.
But hey, at least they had Sonic the Hedgehog—and now the Restoration—to bail them out of any potential trouble. And to be perfectly honest, Rik wasn’t averse to taking up arms again, either. A feeling he hadn’t felt since the fall of the Egg Empire.
The egg timer’s alarm sounded, snapping the wolf out of his reverie. Dinner was done, and he couldn’t wait to dig in.
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