Hoshor Plains I Wear My Sins On My Sleeves

When the wolfdog runs towards him, he cleaves the river in two like the bobbing figurehead of a ship, like Moses and his Red Sea--

Colin swerves away to avoid getting drenched, but to no avail. A neck-high wave swallows him briefly. The river is foamy and opaque with all the silt they've been kicking up. Donovan snaps at his tail, but misses by the skin of his teeth; he spits out river water and laughs again. 

He smiles mischievously before disappearing into the water, eyes tightly shut and ears swept back into the aerodynamic ideal. His retaliation is to swim towards Donovan, a stealth mission, and then to surge upwards, shoving him and creating the ultimate opportunity for a splash.

However, he misjudges the current and surfaces a few feet downstream of the wolfdog. Blinking away the water from his eyes, he squints and realises his mistake, then breaks out into a sheepish grin. Adrenaline nearly takes him off of his feet-- or is that the flow of the river?