The summer had officially begun, and as the heat settled in, I found myself with more problems than just bugs making noise.
—
### Whoosh, whoosh.
### Zzzz-zzzz.
### Ee-yo, ee-yo.
The forest during summer was deafening. Every tree seemed to be hosting a choir of cicadas, grasshoppers, and beetles. Their racket was so loud it felt like my ears might melt right off. Seriously, these dudes didn’t just “sing;” they yapped. If anything, they sounded more like a pack of rabid raccoons trying to start a brawl rather than a harmonious insect ensemble.
But as annoying as the bugs were, my biggest issue wasn’t the noise—it was the merciless sun. d*mn that ball of fire in the sky.
“d*mn, it’s hot.”
I stood in the shallow edge of a pond, letting the cool water soak my paws. The chill of the water was a welcome reprieve from the scorching heat that seared my fur like a pan-fried pancake. Seriously, why did I even have this fur? Sure, it kept me warm during the winter, but now? Now it was just a giant, itchy blanket glued to my skin.
“If only I were human again, I could just strip down and enjoy life,” I murmured to myself. Yeah, nostalgia for being human hit hard in moments like this. But alas, no matter how much I wished, I couldn’t shed my fur like a shirt.
“Maybe I should invent a fan,” I thought. “You know, just a simple contraption with blades spinning around… powered by, uh…” My understanding of electricity wasn’t exactly top-tier, but I had a vague sense that motors were involved. Still, figuring out how to build one? That was a bridge too far for my current skillset.
“But maybe this guy could pull it off,” I muttered, glancing over at Leaf the Raccoon. He was kicking his legs in the water while humming some random ditty about aliens invading a vegetable kingdom. Yeah, you read that right—aliens and vegetables. Only Leaf could come up with something so… creative.
“You look happy,” I observed dryly, noting how he seemed completely unaffected by the heat. Probably because his thin bunny skin dress kept him cool as a cucumber.
“Oh, it’s all about vibes, dude!” Leaf grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth. His tanned skin glistened in the sunlight, reminding me of an adventurous bug collector on a summer day. “You’ve got to embrace the chaos!”
“Right,” I mumbled. “Embracing chaos seems like a fine idea if you’re not drowning in sweat.”
As he splashed happily, tiny droplets of water flew up and splattered onto my fur. Irritating. But instead of flipping out, I decided to play it cool. Sort of. “Hey, Leaf, you know, if you keep kicking so hard, all the fish are gonna scatter.”
“Nah, don’t worry. My super-magical lure makes sure even the fish who’ve never tasted Wasabi are running straight into my net!” he exclaimed confidently, holding up a long stick tied to a strand of spider silk. At the end of the thread hung a white strand that shimmered faintly in the sun. “Raquel’s web is the ultimate bait! Trust me.”
“Raquel?” I asked.
“That mysterious spider from the West,” Leaf replied, grinning. “She gave me this silk as part of a ‘friendship agreement.'”
Ah yes, friendship agreements. Because nothing says trust like using someone’s web to catch dinner.
—
I sighed, glancing at the empty water around us. “We’ve been here for half the day, and we haven’t caught a single thing. If you keep scaring off the fish with your splashing, we’re never gonna catch anything.”
Leaf waved me off with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Patience, my friend! The universe works in mysterious ways. This is the calm before the storm, or the big bite, or whatever. Trust the process.”
“Or maybe it’s called Gambler’s Fallacy,” I countered, rolling my eyes. “Just because you failed last time doesn’t mean this time will be different.”
“Gambler’s…what now?” Leaf tilted his head quizzically.
“Forget it,” I muttered, deciding it was fruitless to educate him on behavioral economics at this point.
I submerged my tail into the water, testing out an idea. “Maybe tails can be used for fishing too, right? Like how Mao did it during the monsoon.”
Mao, the giant feline who had once taught me the art of fishing, flashed in my mind. Using her tail as bait had proven surprisingly effective. “Could I do the same?”
Submerging my tail felt great. Cold water wrapped around the fur, almost like nature’s own air conditioning. But then… something tugged.
“Hey, Leaf! Watch your fishing line!” I called out, noticing the strand of spider silk was twisted around my tail. Rookie mistake? Maybe.
“Uh, I’m redoing the bait. Added a beetle this time,” Leaf said distractedly, not looking up from his work.
“A beetle? Fine, but don’t blame me if it messes me up,” I grumbled, pulling my tail slightly. But oh no, something was definitely caught.
“Wait… what the heck?”
Something down there wasn’t letting go. In fact, it seemed determined to drag me under.
—
### Splash!
—
“What in the world?!”
I dug my claws into the earth, refusing to be pulled into the unknown depths by whatever had decided my tail was worthy prey. The water surged violently as whatever it was beneath the surface refused to let go.
“So not cool, mystery creature! Not cool at all!” I shouted, trying to pull myself forward with my front paws. Leaf noticed the commotion and joined in, helping me pull.
“Is this some kind of giant fish?!” Leaf exclaimed, wide-eyed. “Because no one warned me about giant fish!”
“Just keep pulling!” I growled, putting all my strength into it. My tail might be strong, but dragging whatever this thing was from the depths was no small feat.
“Almost there!” Leaf cheered, though his grin faltered as the water started to churn even harder. Clearly, this fish wasn’t just big. It was… determined.
With a final heave, we managed to yank the creature onto dry land. And there, flailing in the dirt, was the biggest fish I’d ever seen—a monstrous creature at least three times my size. Its massive jaws clicked as it gasped for air, its body gleaming with scales sharp enough to cut glass.
“PIIIIIISSHHH!” it squealed, its breathing sounding like a bike tire losing air.
“Whoa,” Leaf whispered, his eyes wide with awe. “Is that… the Pond Lord?!”
“Pond Lord?!” I echoed, staring at the fish now flopping uselessly on the ground. Apparently, yes, this was indeed the Pond Lord. Or at least, that’s what Leaf claimed.
“Man, this tail thing is really paying off,” I muttered, inspecting my handiwork. The tail, which had previously only been good for scaring smaller animals or breaking sticks, had just captured a legendary aquatic overlord.
“Alright, Pond Lord,” I said, raising my tail like a weapon. “Time to teach you some manners.”
With one swift motion, I swung my tail downwards, smashing it into the Pond Lord’s head with enough force to silence its squawks instantly. The resulting thud echoed across the forest floor.
“Whoa,” Leaf muttered, gawking at the unconscious fish. “Pond Lord Tartar Titanica just got KO’d by you. I mean, I knew your tail was strong, but whoa.”
“Guess it’s true after all,” I said, patting my tail affectionately. “The more tricks you have, the better.”
—
That evening, we dragged the Pond Lord back to our hideout, where the Witch Eve awaited. Upon seeing the massive fish, her eyes lit up like Christmas lights.
“This will work perfectly for the potion!” she exclaimed. “With this, we should be able to craft the rare medicine needed to cure your curses.”
“Curses?” I asked, suddenly remembering why we’d gone fishing in the first place. Between Leaf’s unwanted stealth skills and my newfound chaos inducer skill, both of us were hoping for a little upgrade.
“Let’s hope this works,” I muttered, watching as Eve carefully prepared the ingredients. The world may have been strange, but at least one thing was clear: change was always possible—even for someone cursed with chaos-inducing fur and a killer tail.
