It started with a splash of water, accompanied by a fierce tug of the bait.

The colonel had decided to kick back for the duration of his boat ride. He had the line cast, the rod sitting on it's feeder rest. The aqua waters were relatively tranquil—the only sound of movement being the quiet swishing of the water beneath the cuddy.

His feet propped against the baitwell, he had cracked open a book, munching on a sandwich half he had brought for his lunch. All was quiet and König's expectations weren't extravagant. Maybe he would catch another trout or carp, or maybe he would get lucky and catch a greyling.

But when the cuddy's rocking began to intensify significantly, a large splash of water and the glint of scales catch his eyes. Before König could react, a cracking sound reaches his ears and all had calmed in a blink of an eye.

As the rocking slows and the water calms, he finds his rod and rest had been broken in half, the other part whisked away, nowhere to be found around the boat. Still recovering from the momentary shock, he looks over the boat, out into the lake.

Another glint of scales.