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It began, the herculean struggle between man and beast, the test of patience and timing, of placement and cunning, a contest of wills as much as of strength. Prey and predator were united by hunger as well as happenstance: the fish, to nibble at bait without surrendering its life, and the man, to seize his prize before the lure dissipated.
Overcome by the moment, defiant against the fates and the world, he spent of himself recklessly, drawing forth every iota of power to bend lake and denizens to his will. His instincts pierced the waters like a great refulgent eye, and the tantalizing gleam and dance of his bait was as a thing of gold, made precious and inescapable by the will of his spirit.
"I-is all this really necessary?" Letrizia shouted, barely audible over the circle of winds that whipped around him, an intemperate halo.
"Go Hunger! Feed us, yay!!" Gisena cheered, bouncing lightly in place. She'd come over to witness the spectacle, pausing her ominous work on Verschlengorge's missile array. Hair and dress alike fluttered crazily in the wind; he wasn't sure how she could see.
There. A sharp tug and jerk on his line, sudden force as if to pull the rod from his hand.
A big one.
