Next to a suburban neighborhood, down an embankment and through a forest was a rather muscular maned wolf who went by the name of Laurie. He sat in a tattered camping chair he dragged to the river he was currently fishing in. His fishing rod sat in a punctured hole in the cup holder of the chair with its line already casted… for a while.

“Gotcha!” Laurie had jolted awake, but his mind was still foggy. He takes a few seconds to register that he had dreamt of catching a fish. “…Oh.”