River Bound

joey

 ——————･❪ 🦦 ❫ ･—————— 

Alone and rudderless in the woodland, Stanley walked in their humanoid form, through the woodlands and upriver. They didn't know where to go. They had nowhere to. Civilization seemed ever so distant.

A scream stole their attention away.

As alert as a deer in danger, Stanley shifted towards the sound. A person. A human person. Drowning in the river. Can't have been any of the Lutrinae. They were taught always to shift into otters before going into water. Especially the river. Stanley did not hesitate, not for one moment. They leapt into the water, shifting into an otter, and as they reached the human, they shifted back as to not create a panic. They'd never seen humans up close before. They weren't sure how those would react to seeing an otter shifter. Or a shifter at all.

"Hold on! Help is coming! Please, try to remain still." It mattered very little when webbed hands wrapped around the young man's torso and dragged him to shore, webbed feet carrying them fast, and clawed fingers holding onto the person tightly.

Arriving to the shoreline, Stanley assessed the human's vitals. He seemed to be breathing well. Spat out some water but his lungs weren't drowning. He was fine. He was fine. He—

"Are you a lifeguard?"

Stanley's focus shifted elsewhere. "No."

"Maybe you should be one."

"I'm not worthy of being a lifeguard."

The young man got up, coughing. "Who told you that?"

"The elm tree..."

"Ah, the elm tree." The young man shook his head. He didn't believe them for one bit, but he indulged their story, anyway. He coughed out a couple more times before he threw his hand up and scoffed. "Fuck the elm tree, go be a lifeguard. I say, you just saved my life, and I think that sure as heck qualifies you."

Stanley smiled melancholically. "Thanks." They looked at their reflection, finding their braid half-braided, their mother's works distantly harrowed by the coastal tide. The riptide that ripped through the river and made them an orphan. A tear slid down their face, but their cry was stifled. Their mother worked so hard on those braids, and they'd never be as neat as Aldan's. But she tried so hard. She'd done her best to make them perfect. And now they were gone. She was gone. Their mother was—

"What's your name?"

"Stanley."

"Hi, Stanley. Nice to meet you. I'm Joey." They assessed the man with a quick look up and down. He looked a lot like Aldan, but without the hairy, big, bulky arms. He was pretty muscled and well-built, but it wasn't the kind of boulder-strength that Aldan possessed. He was tall, too, like the Chief was, but not that tall. And his hair, just like the Chief's, was long and black. Not tied into a braid, but it was still long and floating. Bad for battle, but it looked pretty. Stanley glanced at his eyes, finding not the forest green, but a light brown, like embers of a fire. He extended a hand, and they weren't sure what that meant, but regardless they took it, and he shook it. What an odd thing. A human tradition, perhaps.

"Hi, Joey."