River Folk Competition

Well, here's a hopefully better-composed creative entry. Today I went to an August swim practice. August swim practices are a joke. We have no coach and basically the only reason they exist is because none of us have lives. For the last half hour of practice we combine with the little kids and play games. Today we played steal the flag. Because I have nothing to compete in during the summer, even these petty games are a huge deal to me. So this post is pretty long.

The ocelot tossed a small fish between her paws on the bank of the river, impatiently waiting for the others. Every so often she would nibble at the fish, and by the time the fox appeared from the underbrush, all that was left was some neatly picked bones and the fins. The fins had no flavor worthy of consumption.

The fox and the ocelot skidded down the bank together and began their pre-plunge rituals. The greyhound casually trotted up to them and began dousing her paws and muzzle. Then the chipmunk scampered out on a flimsy limb above them. The limb didn’t hold and the small rodent tumbled into the water with a splash. Then, to the surprise of all present, the flamingo joined them. Most had not seen the flamingo since the farewell to a few friends and all were shocked to find her there again. Others of the river folk slowly trickled into the water and soon all were swimming playfully. Younger river folk worked seriously a little ways upstream, but the older folk swam at their leisure.

After quite some time of such matters—the sun had come out from behind the tree it had hidden behind—the younger folk joined the older and began a game. The game was certainly an interesting one. The females guarded one bank of the river and the males the other. The ocelot plucked the fins of her fish off the bones and one was placed on each bank. The females’ goal was to keep the males from getting their own and to capture the males’. Upon hearing the proposition the ocelot grinned happily; this was the competition she had been missing all summer.

The first round began and the ocelot paced the imaginary border along the river. It wasn’t so much pacing and treading back and forth, for the water was too deep for her to touch bottom. She tried to plot how to best reach the males’ fin, but then spotted the greedy eyes of the emu, the gecko, and the heron. She paddled back from the border and into a position to defend her fin.

The emu and the gecko she knew she could handle. At least, she knew she could handle them with the help of the younger animal that was also guarding the fin. So long as she had someone to delay one of the opposing animals, she could manage both. But with the heron, she wasn’t so sure. If they all came at once she didn’t think she could take them. She was right. All three came at the same time, each from a different direction. She caught two, but as she turned to grasp at the heron, he cockily stroked back to his side of the river. He strutted along his bank waving the fin and the ocelot seethed. Her competitive self had been awakened.

The second round went much better for the females. The greyhound coordinated a plan and swam swiftly for the fin. She grasped it but, knowing that she would be overcome, passed it to the chipmunk. The chipmunk carried it a small way before being set upon. She passed it to a younger creature, but the ocelot could see that the creature would not make it. She would come close, but close doesn’t count. The ocelot reached her paws across the border and snatched the fin from the assaulted youngling. She raised it in the air to show victory, then praised the greyhound for her cleverness.

The third round was hotly competitive. Several attempts on both sides were made to retrieve the fins, but all failed. The ocelot had nearly strangled the emu in trying to haul him to the surface and almost felt sorry, but then the emu blatantly flouted the rules so her pity was gone. The gecko attempted to distract her with a wave of younglings before coming in himself, but the ocelot and her companion held them back well enough to throw him back as well. Then the ocelot caught sight of the heron looking back and forth, trying to spot anyone watching him. The cat submerged; not only was she unseen when the heron dove down to make his attack, but she was well placed when he started for the fin. The gecko, seeing his friend moving in, also ventured across the border. The ocelot knew her companion could do little against either of the assailants and fretted. She’d go for the biggest threat first. Rising to the surface for a quick breath of air, she dove towards the heron.

The bird’s feathers were slick in the water and he kept wiggling when the ocelot would grasp him. As tempted as she was to use her claws, she refrained. Much to her dismay, he grabbed the fin. The ocelot saw a flicker of movement that was her companion attempting to thwart the gecko. Paddling furiously, the ocelot pursued the heron. He couldn’t have much air left in his lungs; he would have to come up soon. But not soon enough. The ocelot, in one desperate attempt, threw her paws around the heron, pinning his wings to his body and crushing the air from his chest. Frantically the heron rose to the surface. He tried to pass the fin to the gecko, but the ocelot’s companion had done well. The gecko was shorter on air than the heron was and soon had to rise. As soon as they were both above the water, the ocelot snatched the fin back. And in that moment the fox reappeared on the females’ side bearing the males’ fin. Victory.

Oh, and in case you're curious, the heron is quite a cocky fellow, so I was quite happy to have beaten him at something. He's one of the fastest guys on the team too. But in capture the flag, it's all in the strategy, so I stand a small chance.