Otter Creek Got my dark sunglasses on and I had my weapon drawn

“Clearly a moron,” she said through a mouthful of rotted otter flesh. The taste was beginning to wear on her tongue and, although she wasn't entirely sated, she pushed the carcass into the water. It bobbed for only a second on the swift current before sinking like a stone.

Turning her attention fully on her “guest”, Ptarmigan began with the most eloquently stated question she had ever uttered: “who're you?” It seemed like a natural place to begin a conversation, at least to the tactless Endore.