Big Salmon Lake cows and spaceships

He was making quite a racket, laughing uncontrollably too, thoroughly enjoying himself in the water that his father had inexplicably been very wary of. He always hid during storms too, so it was a little ironic that a storm happened on the night of his death. Snowl, even at his age, respected Mother Nature, but he didn't fear her... yet.

A scathing tone made him freeze, and the wet and gawky teenager peered wonderingly at the male. "Well, I wasn't huntin'," he retorted, trotting out of the water like some high-steppin' sea-cow. He smirked and added rudely: "and nobody told you to come 'round all tha noise, tryna hunt neither." The pale youth gave himself a thorough shake, and now instead of resembling a dirty Q-tip, he looked more like a misshapen cream puff.

"I'm Snow Owl DeMonte!" he suddenly said, quite cheerfully. "You can call me that, or Snow Owl, or Snow, or Owl, or Snowl (that's what my dad used to call me!) or Mr. DeMonte, or Beefcake (you should call me that one) or Superwolf, or Dragon Thundah (you gotta say it just like that), or Hyper (my mom used to call me that...)—just don't call me like Squirt 'r nothin' because I don't like that shit."

The kid came with his own background commentary and everything.