I picked up my stringer and box and started on the journey home. I sat there on the now dark water's edge in awe - looking at my frayed line. I went down into the abyss with it, dying to see this fish out of its element and in mine when, as if God himself had cursed this fish, it looked at me and in a blink of an eye - BIT through my spider-line like it was 2lb test!! With a splash in my face I saw a flicker as this missle accelerated into the deep along with my lure. I grabbed for my net - a net that was now making me nervous with its now miniscule stature in comparison. the dorsal was sharp and the fish was long and lean.
something that seemed like it was aching to get a look at ME! Our eyes met and I felt a chill run down my back as I finally beheld the slick engineered looked of this fish. On the repeat motion I finally saw something right beneath the surface. I stood up and pointed the pole at the waterline and drew my arms up and back using raw force to pull the behemoth up and then compensated on the re-draw with a reeling hand so fast - I think I wore out the bearings of my old Penn. The line was taught and my pole looked dangerously angled towards water and I knew I had to act quickly. Yes this was something far more sinister. even the 17 pounder I had caught earlier was a breeze to land compared to this. it clearly was not the typical snapper or catfish. I was surprised at the intensity of this one. I struggled to control the getaway - releasing just a bit of slack and giving the beast some time to show me it's mettle. I used figure eights and small jerks to simulate injury and as the lure approached the drop off point near the waterfall - the all too familiar heart-snap and adrenaline rush HIT me as I now had - FISH ON Left station less the bobber looked like a beacon of light in a black glassy void and sensing I had perplexed the taker I picked up the reeling - this time fast. There was a swirl of water around my bobber and although it was getting darker by the minute I distinctively knew something was interested and I stopped reeling. The cast was long - a country mile - and I was taking my time reelin it in as I looked back on the day's catch and how good a fish fry sounded for dinner when I noticed something. The mosquitoes were thick and I was weary from the sun's power that day but I decided to cast just one more time before Retiring.
It approached that time of day when the sun hit the tree line and every fisherman knows that it's magic hour - the time when legends are made. Comment by 103315On a lazy weekend in Orgrimmar I found myself putting a few brews back and tossin' a line.
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