Big Salmon Lake dribble

[size=large]"I am tough nut to creck," Vlad declared, grinning toothily at his battered reflection. He meant literally - it wasn't a metaphor for depth of character. His left eye was still a field of blood, but the right was a clear, glaring yellow. The contrast seemed to please him. "Looking bed-ess, Vladimir."

After several days of slow and painful recovery from his tumble down the river, the Russian was mostly restored. Huge amounts of fatty salmon had helped him on the way, soothing the bruises and cuts inflicted by the rocky riverbed. The pompous little Tsar of his wandering group would eventually pay for the damage, of course, but Vlad was more than happy to spend a few more days recuperating next to an endless source of food and water. What luxury! With a satisfied sigh, the sinewy creature flopped to the ground and rolled onto his back, exposing his genitals to the weak sunlight. "This life. This life."[/size]