Open The Soggy Side of Success

[Griblo Jankweed]

Griblo kicked downward through the dim, cloudy water, lungs tight and ears pinned by the cold. The murk swallowed shapes and shadows, but the bag - thank Vulpuz - sat wedged in a patch of soft mud just beneath him. He angled his body, tucked his paws, and plunged the last few feet, snatching the sodden satchel by its strap.

It was heavy and waterlogged, which was annoying...
...But it was his.

His legs pumped hard as he angled upward, dragging the weight behind him. It slowed him, made each stroke burn, but he was no stranger to swimming, even if he’d always loudly insisted he hated the act.

He broke the surface with a gasp and a sputter, lifting the soaked bag above the waves.

"VULPUZ’S CLAWS, I GOT IT!"

He spat seawater, blinking rapidly, just in time to spot two silhouettes drifting in the wrong direction, under the dock’s shadow.

"OI! Ye’re goin’ the WRONG WAY!" he barked, kicking toward the pier.
"De rope’s back over ’ere, ye waterlogged numpties!"

He swam closer to the dock, hooked one arm over a piling, then with a full-body heaved the drenched bag upward. It slapped onto the planks with a sickening, wet THUD-SPLAT, spraying half the dock in muddy droplets.

"Ruff!" he roared upward.
"If yer done flirtin’, maybe ACTUALLY WATCH IT THIS TIME!"

The bag secured, Griblo sucked in another breath, then kicked sideways, angling himself under where Ruffano was braced with the rope. His wet fur plastered to his frame, his teeth bared against the burn in his limbs, he called up:

"Left! LEFT! No... M' left! Hold de rope steady, ye daft fox!"

Ruffano yelled an offended something back.

"I AIN’T HOLDIN’ IT WRONG, YOU’RE HOLDIN’ IT WRONG!" Griblo shot back, bracing himself against the piling and grabbing the rope’s lower line to angle it toward the drifting pair below.

He planted his footpaws hard against the sodden wood, keeping tension steady as he could. Between his splashing, Ruffano’s shouting, and the cold nipping at his spine, he felt the rope tug and sway like a stubborn serpent between them.

"Quit yer wobblin’! Get dat thing right over ‘em!"

His paws tightened. His back hunched. His eyes locked on the shapes beneath the dock. Ready and locked in - finally! - to help haul when the moment came.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano flinched violently as the bag hit the dock beside him with enough force to pelt him in a spray of cold seawater.

"DEAR VULPUZ! Next time warn a beast before ye launch ordnances!" he snapped down at Griblo, shaking droplets off his whiskers in offended disbelief.

But his complaint died the moment he saw the pair of thrashing beasts drift beneath the pier. Izakis and the tiny terror were sliding sideways, carried by the current, away from his carefully positioned rope loop.

"Oh no you don’t! Come back here!"

He hauled the rope up in a flurry, coiling it tightly around one forearm. His footpaws scrambled across the slick planks as he rushed two paces down the dock to re-position. He braced against a sturdy bollard, looped the rope once around it for leverage, then began crafting a second hasty loop with quick, practiced paws.

He ignored the bag. He ignored Griblo’s splashing. He ignored the churning in his stomach.

His eyes were fixed on Izakis alone.

"Hold fast, my cyan-scaled darling! This one’s comin’ right to you!"

He swung the rope outward in a wide, careful arc. The coil slapped the surface, drifting within arm’s reach of the struggling pair beneath the dock.

Griblo’s voice rose behind him like an angry kettle.

"Left! LEFT! M' LEFT!!!"

"I AM moving it, you soggy stoat!" Ruffano shot back, teeth bared in concentration.
"Hold the rope steady or so help me I’ll tie YOU to the pier!"

As much as the two bickered like a barnyard duo, somehow the rope line straightened, the angle corrected by their combined chaos.

Ruffano leaned forward, dangerously far over the edge, rope braced, one paw outstretched toward the water.

"Take hold! Come on! I’ve got you...just a little more...!"

He anchored himself against the bollard, muscles tight, ready to haul the moment a claw, paw, or tail wrapped around the rope. He didn’t care about the bag, the thief, or Griblo. In that moment, he only cared about exactly one thing: Keeping Izakis from sinking beneath the waves again.

 

[Korya]

"Left! LEFT! M'LEFT!"

Like a siren's call, Griblo's voice pierced the water. Korya adjusted her positioning, striking out to her left. Miss! She pulled her body further, swinging her arms as far as they would reach. Whiff! Did he say my left, or his left?

By the time she twisted around to strike to her right, there was a tremendous splash, and her ears popped away from her head, no longer held down by the water. She sucked in air, no time to steady her lungs with a good in and out - the Kraken was fierce and relentless, so too would she be!

Her claw barely had a moment to graze her captor before things spun around, another tentacle attacking her! This one felt fuzzy... grippy. Like some kind of... dock rope?

Claws pinched the nape of her neck, and she was lifted out of the water, the tentacle constricting her body falling away.

Voices were chattering, shouting, there was coughing - some of it hers - and the paralysis seeped through her body. All she could do was limply flick her fingers and twitch her ankles, trying to kick, claw, punch, bite, hiss, and roar, all at once. Her still bleeding nose flooded down her lips, warming her chin.

Paralyzed, naked, waterlogged, and hanging at the mercy of her "rescuers", Korya gently spun in the cool early-winter breeze.

But, most of all, triumphant. Who had ever tangled with the Kraken and lived to tell the tale?

 

[Izakis]

Unlike the kitten, after being pulled out, Izakis lied on the dock unmoving. She bled, lbeit very slowly from quite a few places, her blood being very dense and dark green, showing how much temperature affected her. She was breathing very shallowly and her unblinking eyes were just staring up into the sky.

She did it. The kitten was safe. She did her duty.

And the fact she almost died? It was the second time recently she put someone's physical well-being over hers. She was proud of herself. Before she served others with her body, words and care. Now she actively rescued and fought for the beasts. It felt nice.

Nice enough to keep her alive. Her nude, scaly body however, was heavily affected by combination of hypothermia and exhaustion. She needed warmth. Badly.

But at the same time, just like in the Opera, despite knowing she could die, she was content. Happy that she could help and serve another beasts once more.

That is what she was raised and trained to. That was what she did for her entire life. That was just who she was.

A slave, servant, escort, beast only existing to make sure others are fine.

Why did it warm her heart?

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

With a final heave and a teeth-gritted groan, Ruffano dragged the two sodden creatures up out of the water. First came the small one - claws out, limbs twitching, blood dripping from her nose - hissing and convulsing in some mixture of victory and shock.

"Oh for...YOU again?!"

The kitten’s claws flashed toward him instinctively, and Ruffano jerked back with an offended yelp. He snatched her by the scruff like a wet, angry radish and, with a brisk, dismissive flick of his wrist, deposited her to the side.

"Enough of you, tiny terror…"

But then he took in a sharp gasp. Izakis slid onto the dock next, stiff but limp. Dark green blood beaded along her shoulders and arms. Her eyes stared blankly upward, unblinking, unseeing.

And Ruffano’s heart dropped like a stone.

"Vulpuz! No no no..."

He whipped around toward the nearest dockworker, a wide-eyed otter who froze under the fox’s sudden, crackling authority.

"You! Go get help! NOW! She’s a Smudgie!"

With a shocked nod, he otter bolted off toward shore.

Ruffano was already kneeling, paws slipping under Izakis’ shoulders, turning her gently onto her side. Her skin felt like carved stone beneath his pads, so cold she made his breath steam.

"Easy, love… easy… you’re safe now…"

He brushed a strand of gooey seaweed from her brow, his expression softening in a way no stage could teach him. He eased down beside her and opened his arms, pulling her close, nestling her against his chest in a protective curl. His tail wrapped over her hips like a blanket, shielding her from the late autumn wind.

"Stay with me… you hear? Breathe. That’s it… Attagirl…"

His cheek rested against her damp scales as he held her, lending every ounce of warmth his body had to offer, oblivious to the chaos still lapping at the dock’s edge.

For once, Ruffano Quickwhistle wasn’t thinking about appearances. Or romance. Or getting paid.

He was thinking about the cold, fragile life in his arms, and praying she stayed alight.

 

[Griblo Jankweed]

Griblo shoved upward from below, paws planted on swaying limbs and slick scales, boosting the two half-conscious beasts onto the dock before scrambling after them. He clambered over the pier’s edge like a drowned rat, dripping from every whisker, fur plastered tight to his frame.

"BLOODY FREEZIN’ PIT!!!"

He shook himself violently with a full-body, ferrety explosion that sent stinking harbor droplets flying in all directions. Whoever got hit? Too bad.

His eyes snapped immediately to the little, black-furred menace.

She lay curled on her side, twitching faintly beneath the winter wind. Her nose streamed blood. Her breathing hitched in tiny gasps. Her sightless eyes stared unfocused into nothing.

Griblo’s jaw went slack.

"’Ell’s teeth… it’s jus’ a blind runt, Ruff…" He gasped out with surprised shock, "Jus’ a kitten…"

He crouched beside her, scowling, but with less fire in his eyes than before.

"D’is ain’t the thief at all! Dey must’ve dropped the bag an’ legged it the moment it fell in…"

His grip loosened instantly, paw unclamping from her shoulder. His voice stayed gruff, but the edge dullened.

He grabbed the fox’s abandoned vest from the boards and wrapped it around the kitten’s tiny body, tugging it snug around her shoulders and chest, muttering under his breath the whole time.

"Well oi ain’t gonna be able t’ ask ye if ye saw who tried pinchin’ me bag, I reckon…"

He sat back on his haunches, dripping miserably, studying her with wary confusion as if unsure how to scold something so small and fragile without accidentally cracking it.

Then, with a forced bark of brusque bravado:
"What de heck were ye doin’ down dere, takin’ a peaceable swim alone? Haw haw!"

The laugh was thin, shaky, and not fooling anyone. However it was the closest Griblo could manage to comfort.

 

[Korya]

Korya twitched. Had everybeast had their turn pawing at her like she was a sack of potatoes? Hopefully. She sat up, patting at the vest around her, and slipped her arms through the holes properly. Better than nothing to hide her waterlogged fluff. The wind was nice and invigorating after a good swim and a brawl, and helped her wake up from her ordeal 'neath the waves somewhat.

"I was, actually," she said softly, rubbing at her nose. "I like being in the water! But now there's a kraken in there... I fought it! Did you see? I won! It sounds like someone didn't..."

Her ear twitched nervously. Griblo's bag was all but forgotten in her mind. Perhaps she'd been hero enough for today, winning such a fight.

She stood, slowly, still a little wobbly from the adrenaline and scruff-hold. Then, realizing she again had no idea where she was, she knelt and crawled crab-like, touching the dock with finger tips before taking a shuffling step forward, towards the voice of Ruffano.

"Who is it? That beast who dove in earlier? Is she alright? There's doctors aboard the ship - I think we can... the ship! Is the kraken attacking it?!"

Her tail doubled in size, flicking water. She turned to face the ship, ears swivelling about, catching the distance murmur of life enclosed within the great dark fortress of a vessel. There wasn't a lot of splashing, or screaming, or cannon-fire going on... Or, well, any of that. It all felt... calm. Too calm.

The kraken was surely poised to attack any moment now... She had but won a single tentacle fight. There would be thousands more. The entire harbor was in danger! She sucked in a deep breath...

"KRAKEN! EVERYBEAST 'WARE THE KRAKEN! IT'S TASTED WILDCAT BLOOD AND IT'S OUT FOR REVENGE, GET AWAY FROM THE DOCKS! GET THE SHIPS OUT TO SEA! WARN THE STOATORIANS! WARN THE EMPRESS! WARN THE MISSERTROSS POST! I'LL BUY US TIME, TELL MY PARENTS I'M SORRY AND I LOVE THEM!"

Korya began to shed the vest again, preparing to dive back into the water, shaking her arms out and clenching her fists with determination grit into her fangs.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Paperwork was a nightmare terror Tanya had believed well-vanquished in her advancing years: how it had come back to snap at her now. Though the BlackShip was afforded the luxury of sailing under far looser regulations than her sisters in the fleet, Navy paperwork had still advanced to a certain degree. Rotas and rosters, maps and reports and inventory logs; names and numbers and lists on lists. She’d filled out more than her fair share as Admiral, but for a crew nearing eight hundred the BlackShip’s paperwork was a law unto itself. She’d been more than happy to take some of the drudgery off her husband’s paws, but they’d need an Aide sooner or later. Judging by the state of her writing, sooner would be preferable.

Noise and raucous calls on a ship, particularly one of this size, was to be expected; Tanya scratched away at more documents without paying much heed to the shouts and cries outside of the cabin, taking them for standard banter. It was only when her ragged ears registered a shift in tone followed by increasing quiet that something tugged at old instincts. Her napefur prickled. At length curiosity outweighed duty (though it was no challenging decision given her readiness to procrastinate) and the diminutive fox set down her quill to trot out on deck.

Initially little seemed out of order, though it did not take long for her to surmise that something was happening down on the docks. A glance over the railing all but confirmed her concerns, though there was little time afforded to process the tableaux before roared warnings reached her ears. Automatically she was bounding for the gangplank.

It was no insubstantial run down to the gangplank, and though her mind raced to assess the situation there was a detached part of her consciousness impressed by the feline’s inane shouts. Tanya wondered if she was eighty percent lungs: half the harbour would hear that. Good shanty-caller.

Racing down to the dock it did not take much to see what must have happened, blood aside. Her own stomach churned in empathy for the reptile, unsettled fears of drowning roiling in her gut. The todd trying to aid her was familiar, though they had only met briefly, and the little cat was about to throw herself back into the water beside an equally sodden ferret. She had to wonder just what she’d missed. After a beat of gawping, she shook herself into action.

“What in ‘Gates is goin’ on?!” Panting for breath, the vixen stared between the unusual gathering. “There’s a surgeon aboard the BlackShip, shift yerselves in there sharplike, might save her yet.” Smaller a garment though it was, she shrugged off her coat and passed it to Ruffano to use as swaddling or stretcher for the incapacitated skink. “One way to meet again, eh,” she murmured to the todd before rounding on Griblo and Korya. From her own experience she supposed it easier to follow along than tell the girl she had lost the plot. “An’ you, stop ‘er getting back in the water! Missie, you’d do better fightin’ a kraken wi’ cannon than paws, get yourself on the ship and all.”

What a portent of the voyage to come.