the day was bright, cloudless, and the waves seemed to caress the shore with all the knowing gentleness of an old lover. slavuj took a long moment to enjoy this untouched serenity, before returning to the task at paw.
he was up to the forearms in rolling waters. the tassels of his fur floated under the surface, acting as lures for curious fish. it was a solid trait to build one's plan upon, but the komondor had lost count of the times he lunged for an unsuspecting meal, only for the slimy, scaled thing to dart out the way of his mouth.
but, he was persistent.
after all, he had all the time in the world.
His watery reflection shivered and split into a hundred small pieces.
Woah, watch your step. He laughed at himself. They used to call him an imbranato. Only, this wasn't him being clumsy. It was something else, undeniably. Had the current always been this strong? Beneath him, his paws seemed to move of their own accord, scrabbling for purchase.
Was this a riptide, the one he had always heard about but never quite believed in?
The shore fell further and further away from him. Minchia, where was up? Where was down? Not even enough time to pray. Saltwater blinded him, flooded his mouth. He spluttered for air, he was tossed aside by so many cubic feet of ocean.
Then just as soon as he was dragged out he was spat back out again. He stood chest-deep in water, coughing and shaking. As he turned to survey his surroundings he saw what seemed to be a moving pile of white wool, which scared the shit out of him.
a commotion got his attention. his bear-brown gaze rose to witness a great splashing and flailing of limbs, making it obvious this was no school of maddened fish nor two sealions locked in heat of battle or lovemaking.
it was a canine, the four paws told him, and the komondor paused, finding himself, momentarily, dumbstruck and incompetent - slack-jawed, even.
... was this any of his business...?
but no! he shook his woolen head and his moral compass into shape. a person was drowning before his eyes, and only he was nearby to aid them! was that not reason enough to spring into action?! the tasseled wanderer chided himself as he lunged into the sea, propelling himself forth against the push of the tide and the weight of his corded coat.
the slowness of his reaction and the ocean's mercy had the stranger spat out back into the embrace of blessed oxygen before slavuj reached him. still, the dog tried to be of help. he saw fear in the man's eyes and presumed he was in a state of shock. with determination, the komondor aimed to grab the other male by the scruff of flesh and fur on the nape of the neck and drag him out to shore.