Very Idyllic Indeed
Very Idyllic Indeed
<---->A Tale of Camp Willow<---->
Players:
- Rorri
- Zephyr
<----> Camp Willow - Inlet Shoreline <---->
The riverstones, smooth and soft, lead towards the source of them, the inlet. This inlet, hugging the main grounds in a C type,
curves around and ends up here. To the right of the riverstone trail, you can make out the side grounds, though far off. Across
the inlet, willows and reeds are jutting out of the silver streams of water. The inlet goes in pretty shallow, for about six to ten
feet in different areas, then drops off rather sharply. Minnows and other sorts of fish, bluegill, sunfish, and perch are seen close
to wear it drops off. No beast can see down the dropoff, into the browner and murky depths of the inlet. Rarely, a logboat is seen
coming up the inlet, and beaching on the side ground's shoreline.
In the days since the somber funeral, and the day since Aibne was unleashed to wreak his grisly work on the world of vermin, most of Camp Willow's residents have gone back to their day to day work, trying to put the past aside and focus on the work of surviving the approaching winter. Today finds Rorri near the inlet shoreline, clad only in his trousers atop a raft of three logs, roughly tied together in a triangle to float back to the main grounds. His smaller size seems to be little hindrance as he slowly poles the lumber along with a long punt.
In an effort to briefly escape her brother and also the helter-skelter that is Camp Willow's daily management, Zephyr is hiking along the shoreline to see what there is to see under the guise of looking for wild onions. She has thus far found no onions but has managed to locate a supply of blueberries which she carries in a small basket. There aren't many, but definitely enough for a pie. Rorri's presence catches her attention and she watches curiously as he maneuvers the logs across the water. A slight but welcome breeze is blowing, rustling the leaves and the reeds. The whole setting is very idyllic and Zephyr is actually quite relaxed.
Very idyllic indeed. A zephyr of wind billows gently through the valley(?) the Camp is nestled in, and the slow water burbles happily in the riverbed. Rorri doesn't see Zephyr, intent as he is on the task of steering his bundle of logs, alternately straddling them and fending off rocks, standing to peer into the water, and walking back and forth to swing out the back end.
Zephyr takes a deep breath and lets out a deep sigh as she sets the basket on the ground and takes a seat. With her legs extended in front of her and leaning back propped up on her arms, she closes her eyes and tilts her head up, breathing in the scents of the forest around her. This only lasts a few moments before she looks back across the river. She isn't sure whether or not she should make her presence known to the concentrating otter on the logs but she definitely doesn't feel like yelling and disturbing the peaceful setting. She'll wait. If he notices her, he notices her. Otherwise, no big deal.
Rorri, the veritable King of Observation, notices nothing. The smaller otter shunts the makeshift craft around a rock, then paces to the other end and guides the tail past as well. As the logs pass Zephyr's spot on the bank, a fish catches his eye in the water, and almost without a second thought, the forester slips off the logs under the surface.
Zephyr sits up abruptly as Rorri dives beneath the surface, startled by the sudden movement. Then she laughs as she realizes that she's being dumb. She stands up and walks to the edge of the water, waiting for him to resurface, wondering if he's caught whatever it is he went in after.
Bubbles burst into silvery ripples as Rorri emerges from the water, nose first, spraying the stuff into the sky. As he blinks it clear from his eyes and latches back onto the log-raft, it's clear he's empty-handed. Pawed. With a semi-disgusted shake of his head, he pulls himself back up onto the logs, letting his body hang limply across them, facing away from the female.
Well that was disappointing. Zephyr collects her basket and prepares to return back to camp. She's been gone long enough and she feels better now. And besides, now she's getting hungry. Still, it feels awkward leaving without letting Rorri know she was there. But it's very awkward just yelling out across the water. If he doesn't hear her she's going to have to repeat what she said and then it'll just get weird and...eh, what the heck. "Where you headed with those things, mate?" Hopefully he hears her and she doesn't have to repeat herself like a moron.
From his prone position, Rorri's head and ears both perk up, and as the voice registers, he immediately rights himself into a more suitable view than just his dangling rudder. How embarrassing. "Oh! Uh, hey there, Zeph- Skip! Skipper." Hardly the Formidable Forester pose he was hoping for when he imagined this moment. "These things? I'm just uh, y'know. Takin' 'em back t' camp." Distance and thick, wet fur hide his blush.
Zephyr nods and an idea springs into her head. "Mind givin' me a ride then?" She raises an eyebrow inquisitively. "I was just headed that way m'self."
Rorri blinks once, staring at the other otter before nodding. "Sure, that's, uh. That's a good idea. Might not be as fast as walking," he warns, gathering up his punt. "But it's a lot easier'n carryin' these things."
Zephyr shrugs and wades out into the water, ignoring the hem of her pants getting wet. "No problem. A lot more relaxing than hiking through the woods." She reaches the logs and passes her basket up, holding it there expectantly for Rorri to grab it so that she can use both paws in order to pull herself onto the logs.
Rorri hooks the basket handle easily on the short end of his punt stick, letting her get started on her own but offering his other paw to the skipper to help her get situated once she's aboard. "Y've got a point there," he concedes as she climbs up, positioning himself somewhere just forward of the middle to have decent control without needing her to move out of his way. Passing the basket back, he asks, "Blueberries?"
Zephyr situates herself comfortably somewhere where she won't fall off and then takes her basket back. "Aye. Found 'em while I was out looking for somethin' else. That's usually how it goes." She laughs. "Maybe might make a pie. Or scones or something." She drags her free paw in the water, creating little ripples as they float along. There's a momentary lapse in conversation and then she asks, "Nice day, in'it?"
"It is," Rorri agrees, nodding. The river gurgles happily around rocks and under logs, over boulders and even a few bones, mostly pescatorian in nature. He's stood behind her, punting lazily as the need arises, sometimes rising onto his tip-toes to better see past Zephyr's head. "What /was/ y' lookin' for before y' found them berries?"
"Onions." Zephyr responds simply. "But honestly it was the first thing that came to mind. I'm not even sure we need any. Mostly just wanted to get out of camp for awhile." She crosses her legs and rests her elbows on her knees which causes her head to sink a little. The basket balances next to her fairly securely. "Been kind of crazy recently."
"I c'n understand that," Rorri agrees, nodding. "It felt good t' get out'a camp an' chop these beauties down," he continues, thumping a foot against the logs they're riding. "Choppin' /always/ feels good, but 'specially given how... 'crazy' things 'ave been th' last few weeks."
"Hopefully it all dies down soon. I'm not sure how much more battering we can take." A stray leaf floats past and Zephyr fishes it out of the water and twirls it in her fingers. "'Course, it's not as if this is a rare occurrence for us. Camp Willow is usually the one taking the battering and coming out the other end bruised but still standing." She releases the leaf and it flutters back into the water. "'Course, we don't have as many otters as we used to."
"Lean times all over, from what I 'ear," Rorri nods. He's very agreeable, it seems. He steers the end of the logs into the bank, letting them nose gently into the shore before hopping off into the water and onto the bank himself. He offers her a paw to come ashore. "End'a th' road, Skip. Gotta walk from 'ere." He gives her a sympathetic smile.
Zephyr accepts his paw, grabs her basket, and hops ashore. "Thanks very much for the ride, Rorri. I enjoyed it." She smiles at him. "I'm going to make some scones later. Would you like some?"
Pies, tarts, jams, there's unlimited options for a batch of blueberries, but she chose scones. Well, it's the lady's choice. Rorri swallows his objections to her choice and nods, smiling. "Sounds great t' me, Skipper."
If Zephyr notices his displeasure she doesn't mention it. She's making scones regardless. "I'll bring them 'round then. Whenever I get a chance to make them." She smiles at him again and then turns to walk up the path towards camp. Things to be done, food to be gathered. "I'll see you 'round!" She calls over her shoulder.
"See y' then! An' thank you!" Rorri waves cheerily, watching her go with a broad smile on his face before leaning over to start dragging the logs further ashore.
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