Verdant Basin End of the world - The musical

Ondine’s new avatar is super cute! I apologize for the delay. orz

I rolled a two, which means success for French Fry, but I have zero idea how I’m to do this with the e-collar. I have decided to just wing it. I hope this is okay.

If it’s not, please let me know and I’ll change my post. ^^

“French Fry. My brother.”

The note of pride in Big Mac’s voice bolstered the chubby Golden Retriever’s confidence substantially; thus comforted, he edged out of the Newfoundland’s impressive shadow to dip his head in an oddly refined bow to both females. “Nice to meet you,” he said politely, calling on the power of Good Manners to help him navigate this odd situation. Chubby as he was, French Fry was the smallest creature present — something he wasn’t accustomed to.

I mean, aside from Mac, pretty much everyone looked small. But French Fry was leggier and heftier than a lot of the dog park regulars back home — especially Carl the Corgi.

He watched keenly as first Ondine, then Mac plunged their heads into the water, both coming up sopping and determined to try again. If they could try it...couldn’t he? French Fry shook himself all over, snorting in dismay as the plastic cone flapped like a frisbee, then trotted several yards upstream. The e-collar made him cautious, gun shy; he’d gotten caught on bushes, trees, rocks, and occasionally the ground itself if he dipped his head too low to sniff. He’d smacked Mac more than a few times, which the good-natured Newfoundland never seemed to mind, but French Fry’s was a chronically guilty conscience. He couldn’t bear to embarrass himself — or worse, physically bludgeon — the exceptionally beautiful ladies.

Staring down at the water with fierce concentration, his russet brow furrowed and his floppy ears tipped forward and upward, the Golden Retriever tilted his head first to one side, then the other. Oh! Oh! There they are! His tail began to wave maniacally as his hind paws danced, shifting his sizeable weight from side to side in readiness and unfettered excitement. There was no room for strategy in the yearling’s empty head — he was wont to leap before looking, literally — and so without further delay, he threw himself directly into the school of fat, healthy fish with a colossal splash! and a slightly more regretful gluk! grgrlgl!

The slippery fish escaped French Fry’s grasp more than once, but for once his e-collar seemed to serve a higher purpose — one unlucky fish got trapped between the golden boy’s face and the collar. French Fry chomped and snapped, desperate to snag his one chance at being the hero of the moment — he slavered like a rabid thing; his lips flipped back and his tongue lolling as though he were in the throes of a particularly violent seizure; his eyes rolled to bare the whites as he sought to remain afloat and not let the fish escape. But he couldn’t grasp it.

It was dumb luck that the fish itself flopped the wrong way out of the e-collar, landing on the riverbank with a series of panicked spasms. Paddling furiously, his cream-feathered tail working like a rudder, French Fry hauled himself out of the water and attempted to catch his fish properly — nomf! nomf! — but in the end, all that was left for him to do was throw himself on top of it. The wet, cold flopping against his abdomen was a ticklish, unpleasant feeling, but he didn’t dare get up lest the fish flop its way back to freedom.

“H-Help!” he wheezed. “Mac! Ondine! Spring! What do I do?!”