Scientists have good reason for dismissing the idea of a Drizzile in Lake Axewell, which to them sounds even more absurd than the notion of a relic population of Lapras in Union Cave which appears only on Fridays. It is true that Galar's wilderness has a remarkably diverse collection of pokemon, and even possible that some long-lived rare beast or god still hides deep within the woods. But Lake Axewell in particular has been thoroughly charted, and Drizzile's camouflage is not so good as to hide a precious Sobble population for a century right under humanity's nose.
Yet it says something about the mystique of the Drizzile that tourists still flock there, aided by the odd misidentified water pokemon or miscolored patch of water, and often ignoring the even rarer pokemon that gives the lake its name. And feral Drizzile have been known to survive for long periods in freshwater bodies – albeit ones they leave far unfriendlier to human presence than even the heart of the wild area. Galar's old legends speak of children who ranged too close to a lake or river and drowned, only for their spirits to return as lonely Sobble; interestingly, it is Drizzile, not Inteleon, cast as the villain in these tales.
Cryptozoologists are not actually wrong that a feral Drizzile survives in Galar, but they grossly overestimate its antiquity, and in any case are looking in the wrong place. As of this writing, one lurks beneath Circhester Bay, abandoned by its trainer after one too many defeats. He lives far too deep to be touched by a water bike, although he occasionally shoots jets of water to pop their tires, or moves around ice floes to make their riders crash, and is neither stupid or friendly enough to bite onto a fishing rod.
