Detective Wolf and the Flatwoods Fighter

Viewing the harpoon gun and compass as equally useful, Wolf scooped them up and lowered himself to the depths. As the purple paint surrounded him like some eldritch snake about to devour its prey, Wolf saw the painting. The paint melting off of it made the contrast intensify to an extreme level. it looked almost like it was painted by a different person entirely. For a moment, Wolf thought it was a third painting. But then he saw the wooden oak, and knew that it was the original. Before he could grab onto it, he noticed a catfish race towards him, mouth gaped. He ducked and felt the pressure as the catfish sped by. Looking back at the speeding creature, he saw it spin back around to face him. Its beady eyes focused on the painting. and he cursed to himself. The catfish was wider than he was. A sound came up from above. Wolf turned to the underside of the boat. it was rocking, and heavily. Something was wrong. Wolf needed to make a choice. Would he go back to the boat, to help the sailor, or kill the catfish to secure the painting