[Till, having…not really gotten over his own transformation but Trying To Push Through It regardless is lounging on his belly near the riverbank with his sketchbook, working on doing some loose sketching of the flowing water and seaborn that occasionally poke their heads out or fly into the sky. He’s expecting to see a fish or two flopping about, but certainly not an otter-person that pops up out of nowhere, quickly enough to splash water a little in his direction.
He hisses and pulls back, lifting one of his forepaws as he feels the water fleck against his fur.]
III
He hisses and pulls back, lifting one of his forepaws as he feels the water fleck against his fur.]
Watch it, you’re getting my sketchbook wet.