Still Waters

The sea waves rose and fell, gently and inexorably, and the young styracosaurusus paddling his way rose and fell with them.

Well, mostly. Despite his best effort to keep his head well aloft and clear of the swells and spray, Doog still found himself with a mouth and nose full of salty water. He snorted and shook his head, trying to clear his stinging sinuses even as he continued paddling doggedly along. An exercise in mild irritations it may be, but he needed to try to get the hang of this. To be sure, there was usually plenty of forage to be found on or near the beaches themselves, but everyone knew that all the truly good stuff was in the reefs and kelp beds off shore. Which naturally meant swimming to reach them, far more often than not, and which in turn was why Doog continued to paddle, doing his best in his efforts to get the hang of bobbing along with the waves instead of against them.

Still, it was annoying. Not that the stout little juvenile was actually tiring or anything, this was hardly his first foray into the water, but he was getting good and sick of the constant assault of salt. Salty spray in his eyes, salt splashing into his nostrils, and so much saltwater in his mouth he began to wonder whether he'd ever be able to taste anything else but salt ever again. Doog was still reluctant to give up on his swimming practice just yet even so, however, so instead another idea came to him. There was no reason he couldn't find a nicer, calmer place to practice, with fewer and smaller waves to contend with. In fact, that would be even better, wouldn't it? That way he could really focus on his swimming, rather than having to split his attention trying to keep track of so many things at once, and inevitably get doused for the bother.

This resolution made, Doog started looking about, scanning the waters around him as best he could. Though whether a result of his low vantage point or simply plain old bad luck, he couldn't seem to find anything suitable. Or at least, that looked any different from how this patch of waves had before he was in the middle of them. Still, he kept looking, straining his short neck to its utmost as he sought out a more favorable swimming area, and naturally got another wave in his face for his trouble. He was getting close to giving up altogether when finally, something caught his eye. It was barely noticeable, but there was indeed a patch of water that looked calmer than the surrounding waves. A long band like someone had made a path straight from the shore to the sea. It looked just about perfect, and the young styracosaurus promptly changed course to paddle towards it.

It didn't take long to reach it, and so excited was Doog at the prospect that he hardly even noticed when still another wave washed over his head. Instead he just paddled on as doggedly as ever, and soon there he was, blissfully floating in that band of calm. Such a pleasant change of pace it was that Doog simply let himself float for a moment, cheerfully whistling tunelessly as he gave the water a playful splash. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier, and why couldn't all swimming be like this? Truly, deep thoughts to be pondered later, whenever he had finally tired of swimming for the day.

Seen from the shore, however, the scene playing out did not look nearly so idyllic. Where before the juvenile could be easily seen only a few lengths out, now his feathery back was a rapidly shrinking blob of green-flecked sand as the current carried him swiftly away from shore. There were no shrieks or shrill cries of distress to alert the adults to any danger, as the young styracosaurus was quite oblivious to it. Fortunately for him, however, someone did notice, as a certain dark-scaled male happened to look up at just the right moment to spot the wayward troublefinder.

And promptly let out a curse, before rushing to the shore.

"Doog!" Caurok bellowed as he thundered across the sand. "Get out of there!"

Thankfully, sound often carries well over water, and Doog did indeed hear his name being called. Or at least, he heard something that was probably his name when he stopped to think about it, though his whistling had made it hard for him to make out much beyond that. Still, if someone was calling him--and it sounded like Caurok, who definitely should not be kept waiting--he ought to respond, so reluctantly Doog turned to see what all the fuss was about.

At which point he finally learned just how far from shore he'd gotten, and that he was continuing to drift even further, and quickly. Startled, he let out a small cry and flailed a bit as he tried to fully turn around, managing to dunk himself despite the lack of waves for his trouble. Only then has he had to pause to shake the water from his head still again did Doog finally actually catch some of what Caurok was shouting.

"Get out... away... the side...!"

It was still hard to make out all the words, especially as the older styracosaurus was now crashing through the waves himself to chase down the wayward youngster. But if he was telling Doog to get out, and go do the side, then maybe... Maybe he meant he should get out of the calm water?

That didn't sound like a very appealing idea to Doog, and indeed first he simply tried paddling where he was, directly back to shore. After all, surely it would be easier to swim through here than the regular waves, wouldn't it? But upon testing this theory by attempting to swim straight back to the beach, it quickly proved not to be the case, as instead he could barely hold his position against the current, let alone make any headway. At that rate, he'd never make it back. Which meant that, for better or worse, his only choice was to plunge right back into the waves he'd been so staunchly determined to avoid after all.

So, with great reluctance and a deep breath, Doog steeled himself and turned away from the deceptively calm current, then started paddling. Soon enough, he was back in the surf, and just as quickly stopped drifting away from the shore. In fact, if anything, the waves themselves were now pushing him back toward the beach, a welcome assist as he was now finding himself more than a little tired from the exertion and excitement. Slowly, he began paddling forward once again, eyeing the strip of calm water off to the side nearby even as he now took care to avoid crossing into it again. Caurok was still heading toward him with his own powerful, purposeful strokes, and upon reaching the stout juvenile simply followed behind him in silence as the youngster made his way back, keeping a watchful eye to make sure there were no further incidents. A silence that Doog recognized as a sign that he was almost certain to be in Big Trouble. As a result, the swim back to shore seemed to take ages, far longer than it should have, and it was with both relief and trepidation that Doog felt his feet finally touch the sandy bottom under the waves.

The scolding did indeed wait a bit, at least until after Doog's feet were firmly upon the ground, his wet coat leaving a trail of droplets across the dry sand safely away from the waves and the treacherous stretch of water both. Then and only then did he finally get an earful, being informed of something apparently called a "rip current" and the importance of avoiding them, as well as the proper thing to do should he get caught in one by accident anyway. Which, apparently, was not to just play around in it, nor tire himself out foolishly swimming against it. The juvenile did his best to listen, but he was tired, and it was even harder than usual to pay attention, a fact which earned him further ire from the worried Caurok. For that matter, Doog had the uncanny feeling he'd been warned about something like this before, the descriptions stirring a vague sense of familiarity, but if so, he'd clearly entirely forgotten it. At least he wouldn't be remotely likely to make the same mistake twice after this, even if the lesson learned had been less than fun.

Eventually, however, the lecture was finished, and the exhausted little styracosaurus sank onto the warm sand with a deep sigh. "Rip current..." he muttered the phrase to himself, determined to memorize it. Not that he strictly needed to, though, as after his misadventure today, well, suffice it to say not even Doog was likely to forget any of that anytime soon, whether he knew the word for it or not!