Zeke Ruffgar profile
Jan 10, 2013 5:36:35 GMT -5
Post by Zeke Ruffgar on Jan 10, 2013 5:36:35 GMT -5
Name: Ezekiel "Zeke" Slipstream Ruffgar
Species: River Otter
Gender: Male
Dibbun Weapon:
During his Dibbun years, Zeke's weapon of choice was a miniature sling and pebbles, made personally for him by his "big matey", Skipper himself. As a result, he is almost never seen without it; Zeke has his heart set on joining Skipper's crew, and is convinced that carrying his sling makes him a teensy bit more of an official crew otter. In pillow fights, Zeke has learned to wield the event's namesake; after going without a pillow once, he quickly understood the pillow's diverse capability for offense and defense. Consequently, he prefers to bring his once-white dorm pillow to pillowfights, much to the duress of the good Sisters who re-stuff it.
Adult Weapon:
Rash and hopelessly unprepared, Zeke was poorly equipped when he left the abbey; he only carried a staff fashioned from fallen wood, and was far from proficient with it. After his time on the corsair ship, the otter wised up considerably. His weapons of choice became two katana, taken from a stoat named Korvu and carried strapped across his bare back. Zeke took to two-weapon fighting quite well; its reckless, aggressive nature fit his unstable state much better than the refined single sword or defensive sword and shield. Zeke loved the thrill of battle, the vulnerability of attacking, the only defense being further offense, and thus quickly gained a mastery of his weapons on his trail to vengeance. Even so, the otter persisted in wearing his Dibbun-sling, now more a part of him than a weapon, made useless in combat by its size. Still, he refused to replace it.
Appearance:
As a Dibbun, Zeke was a rather small otterkit. The young otter's fur was a beautiful, soft golden brown, which, along with his big brown eyes, played to the cute little kit's advantage when he wanted to cuddle. As a river otter, Zeke had a lighter, creamy patch on his stomach and underfur, rather than the lighter headfur of a sea otter. His playmates often mocked him for being a bit on the chubbier side as a kit, but he would indignantly exclaim that it was just his fuzzy fur. His little brown tail was his pride and joy, and he could not wait until it was a fully-fledged, powerful otter rudder.
Young Zeke was often found in the customary Dibbun's smock or tunic. However, he much preferred his small green kilt; it was darker fabric and there was much less of it to keep clean. He had something of a childhood vendetta against sandals, forgetting them, losing them, accidentally leaving them at the bottom of the pond or throwing them into the woods on a Dibbun hike. As a result, Zeke spent most of his Dibbunhood barepawed, albeit only on account of his ongoing war with footpawwear. He had a simple belt and pebble pouch, made for him (along with the small sling) by the Skipper of Otters.
As an adult, Zeke quickly compensated for his small, pudgy Dibbunhood, springing up and filling out to be a lithe, brawny otter, on the taller side, his shoulders coming level to his father's chin. He retained his golden brown fur and lighter stomach, although his fur darkened slightly with age, as it is wont to do. He slimmed down further, all excess fat burned away by his time on the slave ship, but adding to his upper body strength. Indeed, others might characterize it as underfed or scrawny, but he preferred to describe himself "lithe and limber." His once-beautiful backfur was now matted and marred by a web of scars, courtesy of the galley whip. His wrists, likewise, are missing some fur, scarred where the oarchains rubbed them raw.
Zeke's dress remained simple in his adult life, wearing only a burgundy half-tunic. This left his upper body bare except for the double bandolier (crossed belts) across his body, complete with backstraps for his katanas. On the slave ship, he hid Skipper's sling by wrapping it around his belt keeping it safe from the searats. His aversion to shoes remained, choosing to travel on his bare, well-calloused paws. In his old age, long after hanging up his swords, the otter adopted a more conservative tunic and jerkin, but insisted on remaining barepawed, grumpily insisting that if his poor old paws could take him this far, he was quite sure they would do all right for whatever lay ahead.
Personality:
As a Dibbun, Zeke had the inherent ability to bring a room to life. His energy could not be contained, and was known to break free at times, like a forgotten pot boiling over. The otterkit was far to young to tame this wildness, and it lead him to have a somewhat rash personality, leaping into situations and then looking after he was already over the cliff. This, in combination with his Dibbun proportions and chubbiness- I mean, fuzzy fur- was a recipe for clumsiness. The Dibbun was something of a klutz, and for some reason, his help was not often wanted; rather, his appearance in the kitchens would be greeted by shrieks of fear from assistant cooks, who hurried to set down their stack of dishes, lest he crash into them and break them all. Consequently, he had plenty of time to apply this energy to... other pursuits. Indeed, it was a well-known fact that where there was trouble, Zeke's mischievous grin was somewhere nearby. His fatal flaw, however, was his honesty. Skipper's crew was only made up of responsible, trustworthy otters, and this fact, in conjunction with the otterkit's poor lying skills, led him to confess his crimes rather than attempt to escape punishment.
As he grew into a young'un, Zeke began to take a turn for the worse. His tendency to cause trouble did not abate, and his energy began to take the form of more delinquent activities, trouble-making, and talking back. He was frustrated by the abbey and its elders, who told him he was too old to misbehave but to young for everything else. As an older youth, he began to feel that he would never be a crew otter, and a burning resentment sparked in him, fueled by this lack of self-confidence. After being scolded for being outside the abbey's walls, Zeke made a particularly rash, self-centered decision and ran away, failing to consider the impact on his parents, his friends, or all who had grown to love him, despite his wild behavior.
The older Zeke was mellowed by his adventures and misadventures, learning from his mistakes. His rash behavior caused danger and put him in harm's way until he learned to contain himself, keeping his energy harnessed. His oarmate on the slave ship, a young mouse named Virgil, taught him self-control, and the idea of a quiet confidence. In times of rage, he could sometimes lose control, falling back into old patterns of impulsive behavior. When he returned to the abbey at long last, he was a changed beast. Part of him had died on that ship, and the carefree, rambunctious otterkit of the past was gone, filled with a hatred of vermin, a longing for vengeance. On odd occasions, however, particularly when playing with the Dibbuns, the mischievous sparkle could be seen in his eyes, as if his face had forgotten it but it still lived inside him. He has learned to measure his words - not in a timid way- speaking with that quiet confidence. After many, many seasons Zeke learned to let go of his hatred, to become happier again, taking up the mantle abbey fisherman, and more importantly, official Dibbun playmate (in his mind). Even still, he spent many dusks and dawns into his old age atop the abbey wall, facing west towards the sea and dreaming of Virgil, of friends and times gone by.
History:
Zeke was born to Tamarel Ruffgar and Laurel Slipstream, river otter residents of Redwall Abbey. Living a normal Dibbun life, Zeke got into his fair share of trouble; if his clumsiness did not cause him to break enough things nor crash into enough elders, he tended to go looking for mischief with D.A.B., stealing pies, avoiding Abbey School, and dodging baths to boot. Although it is common to have parental role models, Zeke instead idolized the Skipper of Otters, as the Dibbun was frustrated that his father chose to be a simple fisherman when there was adventure, honor, and fun to be had. The otterkit pledged to himself to grow up to be exciting, to be in Skipper's crew, and not just a boring ol' fisherman.
As an older youth, his impulsiveness and rambunctious energy led him into almost constant trouble and punishment. Feeling, a bit petulantly, that no one understood him, Zeke ran away from the abbey, thinking that he could prove his bravery and courage elsewhere and then the elders would respect him, then Skipper would see that he was worth it. With a small haversack of stolen food, he set off into Mossflower Woods. Encountering small misadventures along his travel, due to his rash behavior and foolhardiness, he picked his way west, uncertain of what to do with his freedom from elders and abbey. Zeke only realized what a fool he'd been when, one night, he was set upon in his sleep by an inland party of searats, vermin from the corsair ship Terrorwake. Knocked unconscious, he awoke only to be force-marched to the ship and chained to an oar in the galleys. There his world, his definition of work and pain, were redefined as he rubbed his manacled paws bare on an oarshaft, crying of home until the tears were stopped in his throat by the galley whip. It was there that he met Virgil, his oarmate and friend of misfortune. United by their chains and incessant, rhythmic rowing, Virgil took him under his wing, teaching him self-preservation, self-control, and all the ways to avoid the whip without letting the corsairs break his spirit. Seasons were spent rowing, an unclear passage of time spent chained to a stained, warped, splintering bench, surrounded by the stench of salt and sweat, the drum beat, whip crack, and coarse shouting of the corsairs. Virgil fell ill, and eventually passed, becoming dead weight on the oar. Zeke couldn't bear losing him, and fought when the searats tried to take away his body. So, they took Zeke with him, still chained to the fragile mouse, and tossed them overboard. In a raging world of water and waves, Zeke swam desperately, aided by the strength he had built pulling an oar, until he passed out. He awoke on a beach, coughing water for what seemed like hours, washed ashore with the flotsam left in the wake of the Terrorwake. He buried his friend and swore to avenge him. Zeke spent days wandering the shore, but all signs of the Terrorwake were gone, sailed away beyond pursuit.
Zeke wandered aimlessly, bitterness burning away inside him; he could not save Virgil, and now he could not avenge him. He tried to curb these feelings with self-control, but was lost in his anger without his companion. He encountered a mean old stoat by the name of Korvu who attempted to pump him for information, probably planning to seek out Zeke's family before killing him for sport. As an answer, Zeke swung out with the chains he still carried, killing the stoat with a blow to the head. This callous act of violence once would have scared the otter, but not now; they were all vermin, and they all deserved to die. Taking the stoats swords, he traveled across the country, honing his skills while nursing the flames of revenge. At any traveler's mention of a corsair ship, he traveled back to the sea, but never was fast enough to see the ship, to find the Terrorwake. Lost, confused, and purposeless, he wandered until his travels brought him to a familiar sight; Redwall Abbey.
After apologies, hugs, and joyful greetings, Zeke awkwardly worked to reinsert himself in Redwall life. He periodically traveled away, still searching for the searats, but to no avail. They say time heals all wounds, and indeed time helped the otter. He began to see a new truth in Virgil's words, and spent more time at the abbey, trying to let go of his thirst for vengeance. Zeke realized that what Virgil really wanted was for Zeke to be happy, to be at peace, and a mad quest for revenge would not bring that about. He gave up the way of the warrior, hung up his swords, taking again to carrying nothing but Skipper's little sling. The otter, much older and maybe a little wiser, settled down and took the mantle of Abbey Fisherman, although he was always ready to defend Redwall in times of need.
Roleplay Sample:
**A gnat persisted in buzzing by Zeke's left ear, and no amount of swatting could convince it to leave him be. The air was sticky and stagnant with humidity. The hot sun beat down on the otterkit, who was trapped in a rowboat on the Abbey Pond, while his father explained the finer points of fishing. The little otter did not know what he had done to deserve this punishment, imprisonment on a boring boat; something about spending time together. If only I cud go swimmin', maybe bugs wud leave me alone.**
...timing and patience, really, you just have to wait longer than mister grayling and he'll get bored enough to check out that line...
**Zeke tuned back out, eyes drifting over the grounds. The orchard looked so cool and shady, and there was so much open space... this boat was getting cramped. How long did Zeke's father think he could sit still? An' Kiri an' Dennan was gonna have da strawbee eatin' contes' today, too... The otterkit sighed.**
...and so he's probably down there in the weeds, lurking in the shadows... Zeke, did you hear any of that?
**At the mention of his name, Zeke whipped around, anxious to look attentive. In his haste, his elbow clipped the bait box, leaving it teetering on the boat edge. Zeke held his breath, convinced that the slightest air current could tip the box as it teetered... tottered... and... tipped right over the edge!**
Eeep!
**A frightened squeak escaped the otterkit's lips as the box disappeared into the water with a plunk. He saw his father's eyes roll as he sighed in exasperation.**
Don' worry, I gets it!
**And with that, Zeke, leapt over the rowboat's edge in pursuit of the box. A cool, refreshing world exploded around his ears, stinging his eyes as he cut through the water. He could feel the pressure in his ears as he swam about in vague search of the box. Everything seemed slower here, cooler, much nicer than up above. He forgot about the box, taking in his surroundings, when a paw clamped onto his neckfur and he was dragged through the water toward shore, propelled by his father's powerful swimming. As he was hauled up on shore, he shook his head to clear the water off his fur.**
What do you think you were doing, Zeke? It's dangerous in there, especially when we're trying to lure an adult grayling out. You could've been hurt!
But... but I hadta get the baits, I knocked 'em over and ya woulda been mad... **The otterkit's reasoning trailed off as he saw the serious look in his father's eyes.**
Don't you think it would've been smarter to look before you leap? To ask me? You can't just do the first thing you think of, it's not safe, Zeke. Besides, you're more important than a lousy old bait box.
**Zeke smiled tentatively at his father. He could never stay mad at the kit long.**
Ya know what, da'?
What, Zeke?
**Zeke giggled.** I don' think Mista graylin's hungry anymore.
No, I think you took care of that. Besides, he's never going to come out now that your stinky fur was in the water.
**Zeke smiled as his father tousled his headfur.** S'not stinky. I's just inna water, 'amember? **A sudden thought came to him, and the otterkit's eyes lit up.** Since I scared alla fishes, can I go play inna orchard now?
Hahaha, sure, Zeke. Get out of my fur for a while.
Yippeeee! Gangwaaaaay, st'awbees here I come!
**With an excited whoop, the otterkit went bounding across the lawn towards the orchard, careening towards his friends.**
Species: River Otter
Gender: Male
Dibbun Weapon:
During his Dibbun years, Zeke's weapon of choice was a miniature sling and pebbles, made personally for him by his "big matey", Skipper himself. As a result, he is almost never seen without it; Zeke has his heart set on joining Skipper's crew, and is convinced that carrying his sling makes him a teensy bit more of an official crew otter. In pillow fights, Zeke has learned to wield the event's namesake; after going without a pillow once, he quickly understood the pillow's diverse capability for offense and defense. Consequently, he prefers to bring his once-white dorm pillow to pillowfights, much to the duress of the good Sisters who re-stuff it.
Adult Weapon:
Rash and hopelessly unprepared, Zeke was poorly equipped when he left the abbey; he only carried a staff fashioned from fallen wood, and was far from proficient with it. After his time on the corsair ship, the otter wised up considerably. His weapons of choice became two katana, taken from a stoat named Korvu and carried strapped across his bare back. Zeke took to two-weapon fighting quite well; its reckless, aggressive nature fit his unstable state much better than the refined single sword or defensive sword and shield. Zeke loved the thrill of battle, the vulnerability of attacking, the only defense being further offense, and thus quickly gained a mastery of his weapons on his trail to vengeance. Even so, the otter persisted in wearing his Dibbun-sling, now more a part of him than a weapon, made useless in combat by its size. Still, he refused to replace it.
Appearance:
As a Dibbun, Zeke was a rather small otterkit. The young otter's fur was a beautiful, soft golden brown, which, along with his big brown eyes, played to the cute little kit's advantage when he wanted to cuddle. As a river otter, Zeke had a lighter, creamy patch on his stomach and underfur, rather than the lighter headfur of a sea otter. His playmates often mocked him for being a bit on the chubbier side as a kit, but he would indignantly exclaim that it was just his fuzzy fur. His little brown tail was his pride and joy, and he could not wait until it was a fully-fledged, powerful otter rudder.
Young Zeke was often found in the customary Dibbun's smock or tunic. However, he much preferred his small green kilt; it was darker fabric and there was much less of it to keep clean. He had something of a childhood vendetta against sandals, forgetting them, losing them, accidentally leaving them at the bottom of the pond or throwing them into the woods on a Dibbun hike. As a result, Zeke spent most of his Dibbunhood barepawed, albeit only on account of his ongoing war with footpawwear. He had a simple belt and pebble pouch, made for him (along with the small sling) by the Skipper of Otters.
As an adult, Zeke quickly compensated for his small, pudgy Dibbunhood, springing up and filling out to be a lithe, brawny otter, on the taller side, his shoulders coming level to his father's chin. He retained his golden brown fur and lighter stomach, although his fur darkened slightly with age, as it is wont to do. He slimmed down further, all excess fat burned away by his time on the slave ship, but adding to his upper body strength. Indeed, others might characterize it as underfed or scrawny, but he preferred to describe himself "lithe and limber." His once-beautiful backfur was now matted and marred by a web of scars, courtesy of the galley whip. His wrists, likewise, are missing some fur, scarred where the oarchains rubbed them raw.
Zeke's dress remained simple in his adult life, wearing only a burgundy half-tunic. This left his upper body bare except for the double bandolier (crossed belts) across his body, complete with backstraps for his katanas. On the slave ship, he hid Skipper's sling by wrapping it around his belt keeping it safe from the searats. His aversion to shoes remained, choosing to travel on his bare, well-calloused paws. In his old age, long after hanging up his swords, the otter adopted a more conservative tunic and jerkin, but insisted on remaining barepawed, grumpily insisting that if his poor old paws could take him this far, he was quite sure they would do all right for whatever lay ahead.
Personality:
As a Dibbun, Zeke had the inherent ability to bring a room to life. His energy could not be contained, and was known to break free at times, like a forgotten pot boiling over. The otterkit was far to young to tame this wildness, and it lead him to have a somewhat rash personality, leaping into situations and then looking after he was already over the cliff. This, in combination with his Dibbun proportions and chubbiness- I mean, fuzzy fur- was a recipe for clumsiness. The Dibbun was something of a klutz, and for some reason, his help was not often wanted; rather, his appearance in the kitchens would be greeted by shrieks of fear from assistant cooks, who hurried to set down their stack of dishes, lest he crash into them and break them all. Consequently, he had plenty of time to apply this energy to... other pursuits. Indeed, it was a well-known fact that where there was trouble, Zeke's mischievous grin was somewhere nearby. His fatal flaw, however, was his honesty. Skipper's crew was only made up of responsible, trustworthy otters, and this fact, in conjunction with the otterkit's poor lying skills, led him to confess his crimes rather than attempt to escape punishment.
As he grew into a young'un, Zeke began to take a turn for the worse. His tendency to cause trouble did not abate, and his energy began to take the form of more delinquent activities, trouble-making, and talking back. He was frustrated by the abbey and its elders, who told him he was too old to misbehave but to young for everything else. As an older youth, he began to feel that he would never be a crew otter, and a burning resentment sparked in him, fueled by this lack of self-confidence. After being scolded for being outside the abbey's walls, Zeke made a particularly rash, self-centered decision and ran away, failing to consider the impact on his parents, his friends, or all who had grown to love him, despite his wild behavior.
The older Zeke was mellowed by his adventures and misadventures, learning from his mistakes. His rash behavior caused danger and put him in harm's way until he learned to contain himself, keeping his energy harnessed. His oarmate on the slave ship, a young mouse named Virgil, taught him self-control, and the idea of a quiet confidence. In times of rage, he could sometimes lose control, falling back into old patterns of impulsive behavior. When he returned to the abbey at long last, he was a changed beast. Part of him had died on that ship, and the carefree, rambunctious otterkit of the past was gone, filled with a hatred of vermin, a longing for vengeance. On odd occasions, however, particularly when playing with the Dibbuns, the mischievous sparkle could be seen in his eyes, as if his face had forgotten it but it still lived inside him. He has learned to measure his words - not in a timid way- speaking with that quiet confidence. After many, many seasons Zeke learned to let go of his hatred, to become happier again, taking up the mantle abbey fisherman, and more importantly, official Dibbun playmate (in his mind). Even still, he spent many dusks and dawns into his old age atop the abbey wall, facing west towards the sea and dreaming of Virgil, of friends and times gone by.
History:
Zeke was born to Tamarel Ruffgar and Laurel Slipstream, river otter residents of Redwall Abbey. Living a normal Dibbun life, Zeke got into his fair share of trouble; if his clumsiness did not cause him to break enough things nor crash into enough elders, he tended to go looking for mischief with D.A.B., stealing pies, avoiding Abbey School, and dodging baths to boot. Although it is common to have parental role models, Zeke instead idolized the Skipper of Otters, as the Dibbun was frustrated that his father chose to be a simple fisherman when there was adventure, honor, and fun to be had. The otterkit pledged to himself to grow up to be exciting, to be in Skipper's crew, and not just a boring ol' fisherman.
As an older youth, his impulsiveness and rambunctious energy led him into almost constant trouble and punishment. Feeling, a bit petulantly, that no one understood him, Zeke ran away from the abbey, thinking that he could prove his bravery and courage elsewhere and then the elders would respect him, then Skipper would see that he was worth it. With a small haversack of stolen food, he set off into Mossflower Woods. Encountering small misadventures along his travel, due to his rash behavior and foolhardiness, he picked his way west, uncertain of what to do with his freedom from elders and abbey. Zeke only realized what a fool he'd been when, one night, he was set upon in his sleep by an inland party of searats, vermin from the corsair ship Terrorwake. Knocked unconscious, he awoke only to be force-marched to the ship and chained to an oar in the galleys. There his world, his definition of work and pain, were redefined as he rubbed his manacled paws bare on an oarshaft, crying of home until the tears were stopped in his throat by the galley whip. It was there that he met Virgil, his oarmate and friend of misfortune. United by their chains and incessant, rhythmic rowing, Virgil took him under his wing, teaching him self-preservation, self-control, and all the ways to avoid the whip without letting the corsairs break his spirit. Seasons were spent rowing, an unclear passage of time spent chained to a stained, warped, splintering bench, surrounded by the stench of salt and sweat, the drum beat, whip crack, and coarse shouting of the corsairs. Virgil fell ill, and eventually passed, becoming dead weight on the oar. Zeke couldn't bear losing him, and fought when the searats tried to take away his body. So, they took Zeke with him, still chained to the fragile mouse, and tossed them overboard. In a raging world of water and waves, Zeke swam desperately, aided by the strength he had built pulling an oar, until he passed out. He awoke on a beach, coughing water for what seemed like hours, washed ashore with the flotsam left in the wake of the Terrorwake. He buried his friend and swore to avenge him. Zeke spent days wandering the shore, but all signs of the Terrorwake were gone, sailed away beyond pursuit.
Zeke wandered aimlessly, bitterness burning away inside him; he could not save Virgil, and now he could not avenge him. He tried to curb these feelings with self-control, but was lost in his anger without his companion. He encountered a mean old stoat by the name of Korvu who attempted to pump him for information, probably planning to seek out Zeke's family before killing him for sport. As an answer, Zeke swung out with the chains he still carried, killing the stoat with a blow to the head. This callous act of violence once would have scared the otter, but not now; they were all vermin, and they all deserved to die. Taking the stoats swords, he traveled across the country, honing his skills while nursing the flames of revenge. At any traveler's mention of a corsair ship, he traveled back to the sea, but never was fast enough to see the ship, to find the Terrorwake. Lost, confused, and purposeless, he wandered until his travels brought him to a familiar sight; Redwall Abbey.
After apologies, hugs, and joyful greetings, Zeke awkwardly worked to reinsert himself in Redwall life. He periodically traveled away, still searching for the searats, but to no avail. They say time heals all wounds, and indeed time helped the otter. He began to see a new truth in Virgil's words, and spent more time at the abbey, trying to let go of his thirst for vengeance. Zeke realized that what Virgil really wanted was for Zeke to be happy, to be at peace, and a mad quest for revenge would not bring that about. He gave up the way of the warrior, hung up his swords, taking again to carrying nothing but Skipper's little sling. The otter, much older and maybe a little wiser, settled down and took the mantle of Abbey Fisherman, although he was always ready to defend Redwall in times of need.
Roleplay Sample:
**A gnat persisted in buzzing by Zeke's left ear, and no amount of swatting could convince it to leave him be. The air was sticky and stagnant with humidity. The hot sun beat down on the otterkit, who was trapped in a rowboat on the Abbey Pond, while his father explained the finer points of fishing. The little otter did not know what he had done to deserve this punishment, imprisonment on a boring boat; something about spending time together. If only I cud go swimmin', maybe bugs wud leave me alone.**
...timing and patience, really, you just have to wait longer than mister grayling and he'll get bored enough to check out that line...
**Zeke tuned back out, eyes drifting over the grounds. The orchard looked so cool and shady, and there was so much open space... this boat was getting cramped. How long did Zeke's father think he could sit still? An' Kiri an' Dennan was gonna have da strawbee eatin' contes' today, too... The otterkit sighed.**
...and so he's probably down there in the weeds, lurking in the shadows... Zeke, did you hear any of that?
**At the mention of his name, Zeke whipped around, anxious to look attentive. In his haste, his elbow clipped the bait box, leaving it teetering on the boat edge. Zeke held his breath, convinced that the slightest air current could tip the box as it teetered... tottered... and... tipped right over the edge!**
Eeep!
**A frightened squeak escaped the otterkit's lips as the box disappeared into the water with a plunk. He saw his father's eyes roll as he sighed in exasperation.**
Don' worry, I gets it!
**And with that, Zeke, leapt over the rowboat's edge in pursuit of the box. A cool, refreshing world exploded around his ears, stinging his eyes as he cut through the water. He could feel the pressure in his ears as he swam about in vague search of the box. Everything seemed slower here, cooler, much nicer than up above. He forgot about the box, taking in his surroundings, when a paw clamped onto his neckfur and he was dragged through the water toward shore, propelled by his father's powerful swimming. As he was hauled up on shore, he shook his head to clear the water off his fur.**
What do you think you were doing, Zeke? It's dangerous in there, especially when we're trying to lure an adult grayling out. You could've been hurt!
But... but I hadta get the baits, I knocked 'em over and ya woulda been mad... **The otterkit's reasoning trailed off as he saw the serious look in his father's eyes.**
Don't you think it would've been smarter to look before you leap? To ask me? You can't just do the first thing you think of, it's not safe, Zeke. Besides, you're more important than a lousy old bait box.
**Zeke smiled tentatively at his father. He could never stay mad at the kit long.**
Ya know what, da'?
What, Zeke?
**Zeke giggled.** I don' think Mista graylin's hungry anymore.
No, I think you took care of that. Besides, he's never going to come out now that your stinky fur was in the water.
**Zeke smiled as his father tousled his headfur.** S'not stinky. I's just inna water, 'amember? **A sudden thought came to him, and the otterkit's eyes lit up.** Since I scared alla fishes, can I go play inna orchard now?
Hahaha, sure, Zeke. Get out of my fur for a while.
Yippeeee! Gangwaaaaay, st'awbees here I come!
**With an excited whoop, the otterkit went bounding across the lawn towards the orchard, careening towards his friends.**
Well, they're in the kitchen now so if you want you can have him end up there maybe? Or near them?
2024 can be the year of your return 