Greatwater Lake drive it like you stole it

"I don't hate it," Koontz replied, appreciative that he indeed remembered. "See?" she said, moving closer to the water's edge and dipping in a silver paw. She glanced at Rainier to make sure he was watching, then strode into the shallows, enjoying the cool swirl of liquid around her silver heels. "I just don't like going any further than right about... here," she said, stopping when the water reached about halfway to her elbow joint. "It's the deep water I'm not fond of." She squinted toward the depths, a small shiver making her bottlebrush tail wriggle.

Koontz stood there a moment, letting the lake water lap against her legs, when her mind flashed back to an instance where she'd been wading in the sea, only to have one of her brothers—Radio, if memory served—dash up behind her and tackle her into the surf. She'd hollered at him for what seemed like hours after that, just as soon as she'd shakily clawed her way to dry land. That experience had just fed into her dislike of water deeper than her heels. Stupid Radio, she thought, albeit with a twinge of fondness.

Returning back to present day, Koontz arched her neck around and glared playfully at Rainier and even Carolina. "Don't you dare think about trying to dunk me," she warned, tail lashing to punctuate her words.