DoA Trappers: Chowderhead | Tatlitli, (Vozgall)

Fishing entry for Tatlitli aq696

Adventure December 2023 for Vozgall if113

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"No," said Tatlitli.

 

"Which part are you rejecting, exactly?" asked Vozgall, trying not to laugh and only mostly succeeding. 

 

"All."

 

The pair were seated on a pier, far enough from the bulk of the festivities that only the loudest cheers and whistles could be heard in the distance. Much closer was the sound of lapping water and the beady-eyed seagulls hopping and croaking and blatantly trying to steal Tatlitli's fish.

 

"Lies," Tatlitli declared. With a bob of her angler bulb she gestured at herself and her assortment of fishing supplies. "No way they made this chore into a game for pups."

 

Vozgall couldn't bear it any longer, and cackled at Tatlitli's bafflement.

 

Tatlitli had a rickety fishing pole clamped between her bulky forefins, cut from a young tree to be nice and springy, and shaved of all twigs and leaves. The line ran through two crude hooks on the pole itself back to an equally crude reel currently pinched in Tatlitli's thick claws. 

 

"All lies," Tatlitli repeated, which showed just how baffled Tatlitli really was. She was loathe to repeat herself, ever. "What - and you don't even get any fish! What's the point?"

 

Vozgall's cackles grew into guffaws. She shook with her mirth, and slapped the pier with a paw.

 

"Hey, quit scaring the fish!"

 

Wheezing, Vozgall finally pulled herself back together. "The point - heh! - the point is that it's a game. You go fishing to win a prize--"

 

"That is not fishing. Can't be fishing without any fish," Tatlitli grumbled. 

 

"But that's the fun of the game! You don't know what the prize will be. Maybe it could be a fish, even! Or maybe a little plushie, like the one I got." Vozgall held aloft the prize in question: an adorable tiny sky-blue udin with stitches for scales and needled felt for horns.

 

Tatlitli barely glanced at the thing. "No," she muttered, with a shake of her head and a bob of her bulb, which flashed briefly brighter to emphasize the abject refusal of such blasphemy as a festival-booth fishing game that didn't even have the basic common decency to dispense actual fish.

 

Vozgall snickered. "Well, you may not approve, but the hatchlings can't get enough of it! That's how I ended up with Alaya here. I got swept up in a flurry of hatchlings, one thing led to another, and here she is, name and all! I tried to give her to one of the hatchlings, but they wouldn't have it. Youngsters can be so odd!"

 

"Now that is true," Tatlitli agreed. 

 

The end of the fishing pole bobbed. The line had gone taut. Tatlitli snorted and began to reel it in, small sections at a time. The line, she had told Vozgall, was quite fragile. Reeling in a fish was not so simple as turning the crank until the fish popped out of the water. As with swimming, one had to flow with the currents. Fighting against them would always be a losing battle.

 

Vozgall had nodded along and pretended like she knew what Tatlitli was talking about. But she was an air-breather and a land-dweller, through and through, and she was all too happy to leave the swimming to those more aquatically-inclined than herself.

 

Though she'd never attain Tatlitli's level of expertise, Vozgall was glad for every opportunity to observe. As with all masters of a craft, Tatlitli worked with an unmistakable surety, making small adjustments here and there to how she held the pole, reeling and pausing and reeling, all while staring stoically into the distance. Tatlitli would be an expert fisher even if she were completely blind, and it wasn't just magic that made that a fact.

 

Less than a moment after the fish popped out of the water, Tatlitli had it culled, taken off the line, and tossed into a water-worn wooden basket. Vozgall waved a seagull away, and marveled at such skill. "You've really got the knack for this. I suppose that's why it's so embarrassing."

 

"Wh - embarrassing? What?" Tatlitli looked up from where she was fiddling a fresh bite of bait onto the hook. 

 

"Why, that I'm better than you are at the fishing game! After all," Vozgall waggled Alaya the udin plushie, grinning, "I won the grand prize!"

 

"Better than - you - fishing - that - now see here! You threw a bit of rope behind a curtain, and some booth merchant dragon hooked that thing on for you - and that is not fishing, you finless, dolphin-mouthed, chowder-headed barnacle!"

 

Vozgall laughed so hard, she accidentally dropped poor Alaya into a puddle.