Otter Creek just a reflex

With every passing moment, more water seeped into Lane's pelt; a creeping, frigid sensation that chilled her to the bone. Lane scrabbled harder against the icy weight on top of her, twisting herself from side to side with all the force she could muster.  

The boy was shrieking with delight, because of course, this had been exactly what he intended. It was a pretty singificant escalation from the light splashing Lane had given him, leaving Lane with the impression that the kid might just be a teeny bit unstable. 

"Lane," she corrected him through gritted teeth. Like hell she was going to let him keep calling her lady. Like she was some old person. "My name's Lane." As soon as the boy went limp, so did Lane. The cold had sucked what little fight she had left right out of her.  

"Goddamnit, you're fat!" she growled with frustration. She was not a fantastic wrestler even when she was warm and well-fed, and needless to say she had no formal fight training. Like it or not, she was pinned.