The weather was pleasant in the forest region surrounding a lake. The sky was a light shade of blue with a few wispy clouds scattered about, and of course the sun beaming in all of its glory. A small amount of wind brushed through the leaves and stirred up gentle waves in the water.
Beneath the treetops it was much shadier, though easily just as tranquil. Birds were chirping, bugs were buzzing. For now, nothing really stood in the way of a Wyverian on his quest as he walked through the forest, humming a tune to himself.
The little veggie elder wore clothing like any civilized person would, though it certainly showed its age with how worn down it was. He had a small backpack on him, and what looked like a quiver holding various long handle tools.
Something odd he had in his possession was what looked like a large barrel without a top and made out of animal hides, which he carried over his head with both arms. If he were to stand inside of it, its rim would be beneath his shoulders and he'd be able to turn relatively easily. This vessel was going to be his means of getting across the lake.
In the middle of the lake was a small island that was probably only thirty yards in diameter. This was where a Rathian had chosen to set up her nest recently. She must have chosen the spot for the protection of her eggs, which were invaluable for some many reasons. The eggs were the Wyverian's target, and a little bit of water wasn't going to deter him.
From his shore to that of the island, there was about a thousand yards of water to traverse, give or take largely. Both ways too, unfortunately. He knew that the water was inhabited by all kinds of creatures, including Epioth and Ludroth. Those would probably leave him alone, and there shouldn't really have been anything else in there that was large.
The Wyverian came out of the shade of the trees and onto a sandy beach on the water. A couple of Aptonoth, and adult and child, were there as well, casually drinking. The adult looked over at him as he approached the water, but ignored him thereafter and resumed drinking. The Wyverian lied his vessel on its side in the water so he could crawl in, and then pushed him and the little boat upright. After a few hops further into the water, he was floating and drifting. He slid his little paddle out of his quiver, and soon enough was pulling himself along to the island.
Because of the nature of his boat, each stroke of his paddle caused him to spin. In order to keep himself going in a straight line, he had to alternate sides often. As he made his way through the lake, he contemplated a dual oar system, using the hips of an animal perhaps. Hell, an actual boat like a canoe would have been ideal, or better yet a sail of some kind, but such things were beyond his construction skills. For now, he was content with the fact that there just weren't any leaks.
Stuff like weeds and small fish started to become very common as he traveled deeper into the lake. He thought he saw a group of Epioth cruising the bottom. No Ludroth luckily. The sky was clear of the Rathian, and he expected her to take a few more hours to return. He was making reasonable time, so he'd be in and out before she even started on her way back.
His paddle bumped into something on one of his strokes, causing the elder to look back and see what it was. The biggest Spear Tuna he'd ever seen in his ancient life. From tip to tail, it must have been seven feet long, the spear being close to two. It probably weighed between two and three hundred pounds. What he would give to have its skeleton mounted on his wall, it would look so much better than his four and a half footer. Alas, he was not in the position to wrangle the behemoth, nor did he have the equipment. Transporting it would be impossible with the egg, and that was more important.
He stared with his mouth open for a moment in admiration and upset. Eventually, the enormous fish wandered away, stirring up some waves and leaving the veggie elder to his business and disappointment. He contemplated returning another day for the fish, though that would require a lot of planning and preparation. He entertained the idea as he continued towards the island, about two thirds of the way there.
Suddenly him and his boat were thrown up several inches, and there was a ripping sound beneath him. He looked down, and saw a giant spike poking out of the floor of his vessel. If it were maybe fifteen degrees closer to vertical, it would have made a shish kabob out of his manhood.
The Wyverian let out a shriek of terror and anger. This was a big problem. A very, very big problem. A hole was just put in his boat and a fish that weighed twice as much as he did was trying to kill him, and the damn thing had a spear for a nose.
The fish pulled out and then disappeared into the murky water. Panicking, the Wyverian started paddling rapidly to the island, constantly looking out for the menacing tuna. Several moments passed without any detection, and then he saw it again in the distance.
It came from the front, just beneath the water surface, headed directly for him. It would run him through just beneath his chest. It would probably take a few, agonizing, stabs to kill him, all things considered. Maybe only a couple if it hit his heart or brain on the second go.
At the last moment, the Wyverian stepped off to the side and pressed himself up against the wall. The impact threw the boat backwards, almost knocking it over entirely, creating a large wave on the other side. The needle was mere inches from the Wyverian's body and over halfway across the boat. Thinking quickly, he seized the spearhead by the base, and then held on tight as the fish began thrashing about. Water started splashing everywhere and pouring into his boat, and the Spear Tuna showed no signs of tiring. Losing his grip, the Wyverian tried to reinforce his hold by getting on top of the nose. Struggling in the cramped space of his boat, he jumped up and put his chest on it, still only holding on by his hands.
Suddenly he fell and his boat completely capsized. He sank a few feet before getting oriented and then struggled to rise because of the weight of his equipment. After only a few seconds though he succeeded and gasped for air. Still in a panic, he looked around to see where the fish had gone or where it was coming from. He couldn't see it, but he did see his turned over boat close by. Upon closer inspection, he saw a shaft lying inside of it. The snapped off spearhead, only a little over a foot in length.
Not taking time to admire his accomplishment, the Wyverian swam over to his boat, collected the spearhead and threw it into his quiver, and then did the same with his oar that was floating nearby. The Spear Tuna would leave him alone now, but he still wanted to get out of the water before something like a Ludroth came along. He grabbed his boat and started kicking, fortunately only having a little of the way left to go.