Worming my way around inside of the fabric bag that is filled with all manner of glass oddities and baubles, I burrow through the pile of worn clothes. They smell like you would expect worn clothes from a dungeon-adventure to smell. I look for the little satchel that I know is in here. Though there is a tinge of some fragrant perfume to the mixture in here, the smell staining the parchment and paper scrolls around myself. Where is it… where is it… I dig through the rucksack for the little pouch of jerky. Outside of the bag the sounds of the fight keep going. It might still be a little while, the river flows slowly. But it flows.

Ah, there it is!

  I grab the parchment wrap and undo the little string holding it shut and marvel at the sizable collection of my jerky left. Food! My food! Why she has my food?! Ooh! Ooh! I grab a piece of the cured meat and shove the whole thing into my mouth at once, not bothering to chew any off. If I eat slow, it gives the others a chance to steal it. Steal my food! Mine! Ooh! Ooh!

  Something grabs my tail and I claw down at the inside of the bag as I hear voices around myself, the sounds of the fight have come to an end apparently. Is the wave over? That was oddly fast. It tugs again and I rise up, clambering out, I grab several pieces of the jerky and some odd bauble, the rest of the sweetened, dried meat scattering around the bag! My bag! My meat! Mine! Ooh! I rise up out into the air and look at the fuming wizard who is holding me aloft by the tail and staring into my eyes with a glare and clenched jaw that I can only interpret to mean that she is somewhat peeved. I shove another piece of jerky into my mouth from my full hands as I hang upside down and say “Ooh!” But as I do so, bits of chewed, spit covered meat fly down past my eyes and land onto the boat at her feet. My meat!

I can see the embers burning in her fingers and I can see the thoughts of immolation in her eyes. She has me. I have sharp teeth, I could bite her. Buuuut…

  The monk is just laughing as always, cheerful as can be as is their standard demeanor. The priestess lays a hand on the wizard’s shoulder and seems to be trying to talk her down, as is her standard demeanor. The hero is sitting there and sighing at the chaos unfolding, as is his. The more things change, the more they stay the same I suppose. Still dangling from my tail, I turn around towards the thief whose eye is clearly twitching and realize that I need to deescalate the situation before it turns into a… uh, situation. Oh boy. My body aches as the idea hits me, my heart screams no. But I know what I must do, even if it is the hardest thing I could imagine.

  Looking back to the wizard who seems to be close to making up their mind, as the fire in their palms grows larger, I raise a hand out towards her. Offering the red-haired girl a single piece of my jerky as a peace offering. Mine! Ooh! Very generous! Good me! Good! I look into her eyes and give my best to make a pitiful expression, letting my own eyes go cutely wide as I make a gentle “Ooh.” I can see her resolve weaken in an instant, the twitch now moving to her eye as she looks at me with a softening expression.

Stolen novel; please report.

Hook, line and sinker.

  She sighs and sets me down on the boat. I throw the piece of jerky to her as payment for services rendered and I climb up the thief’s back and hang onto her shoulder. My arms still full of stolen goods. Stolen? No. Mine! Mine! Ooh!

But I can’t risk the short-fused elf feeling neglected. You know how jealous she gets, tell you what. Her body seems to become less tense as well, as I clamber up onto her.

Hook, line and sinker. Crisis two, averted.

Something scratches my back and I look at the monk behind myself, who stares at me in fascination.

“Ooh!” I say, allowing her to do so. Grooming is important for apes after all.

“Ooh!” says the monk.

“Ooh!” I reply.

“Ooh?” She asks.

“Ooh! Ooh!” I answer.

  The wizard says something to herself and falls down to her seat, defeated as she watches the spectacle unfold. The monk beats her chest and oohs again. I listen to her speak. She makes a compelling argument actually. Wow…

I never really thought about it like that, guy. Ooh. Huh…

  Thinking for a moment, I guess I have no choice but to concede and offer her a piece of my jerky as well. Ooh! She takes it with a nod and the wizard yells at her from her seat, as the monk eats it with a smile, ignoring her complaints. The hero says something, probably along the lines of telling them all to settle down and slowly, everyone begins to sit back down on the boat. The wizard gathers her things back into the bag, defeated, and the thief scratches my head as we drift down the good water. Good water moves. Good water always moves. Bad water never moves. Black-water never moves. Don’t drink it. Ooh!

  So we sit there together for a while, just enjoying the quiet and me munching down on the rest of my food. I still have the odd glass bauble in my hand, but maybe she hasn’t noticed yet. She seems to have been more concerned about the food, which I get. But honestly it’s a little weird that she was so preoccupied with MY food.

  The thief turns her head and looks into the trees, having heard some sudden noise that the others seem to have missed. I follow her gaze, as the others don’t seem to have noticed at all. At first I don’t see anything either. But then a moment later the little blurs come into focus. The little, tiny squeak-squeaks. Ooh! Ooh! I raise my hand and throw the glass bauble as hard as I can as I see the tiny, beady little eyes.

  The little orb soars into the branch of the tree. The wizard shouts as she sees it fly, now realizing that I had it. The orb flies true and strikes the largest rat with a thwack, the glass breaking on impact with its skull. Good throw! Good! Good arm!

A single splash rings out from the quiet, as the stunned rat falls into the bad water.

  Then it begins to shift. The water. Ripples. Ripples emanate out just behind the tree line, just behind the bodies of the trees covering our line of sight as new things come to being in the dark corners of the bayou. As new bad things smell the meat in the water. We all watch in horror as the rats scamper up higher as they sense something is amiss, but many don’t make it away in time. Invisible hands reach them. Get them-get them! A single long finger clawing through their floating bodies from the bottom of their guts as they protrude through the tiny skulls to scoop out their tiny eyes from the inside and rip them back out through their guts.

  Eviscerated carcasses fall into the water one after the other, some carried away by the current, others simply floating in the bad water. A minute later, the ripples begin to make their way towards us as the bad things come again. The bad things always come again.

I bite down on my last piece of jerky before they can reach it.