Snips And Snails

Deaglán kicked and snapped at pebbles as he wandered down the marshy riverbank, in a poor mood. His stupid brother was hanging out with that weirdo young sucho that had washed up after a storm. Up until then it had just been the two of them, but now there was a third, and they got along great. It left Deaglán alone in the dust more often than not, especially when they went upriver to do… whatever it was that they did up there.

So Deaglán had decided to follow the river with them this time. He would catch up to them - kind of, maybe. He had swam for a while, but swimming against the current in deep water had quickly tired him out and he had to pause and rest under some ferns that were growing near the water’s edge. But now that he was awake again! He was going to walk up the riverbank all the way to the marshlands and he would find out exactly what they were doing up there without him.

Except it was taking him a considerable amount longer to get there than he thought that it would. The mud along the riverbank was sticky and slowed him down, the walk was boring with no one to talk to or play with, and ultimately… it was just a really long way to travel for a suchomimus hatchling.

He was hungry and it was getting dark by the time he got anywhere close to the swamplands. Part of him thought that his brother had probably already gone home by now, and that maybe his father was wondering where he was, but he decided he did not care. He was here now, he was going to figure out what was so cool about this dumb swamp that they kept going to.

If the mud along the riverbank was sticky, walking into the marshy terrain at the edge of the swamp was… somehow worse. The grass here was tall and hard to push through, some of the puddles were deeper than he expected so he fell in the water, and there were biting flies everywhere that nipped at his fragile hide. He was having a truly miserable time. He was too stubborn to go home, but he kind of wanted to, all the same. Even more, he wanted to have his brother to himself again.

And he wanted something to eat. Tiny ripples on the water’s surface beyond the edge of the marsh grass indicated that there were minnows swimming around beneath the water’s surface, and bugs danced and flitted about over the top. Their father usually fed them but… Deaglán decided that trying to catch dragonflies sounded like a really cool challenge. His brother would be so impressed, then he would have to hang out with him more again.

He jumped and scrambled around, chasing after dragonflies and damselflies - which he was convinced were surely just baby dragonflies - and thoroughly distracted himself from feeling miserable. He even felt a bit of pride when he snatched a dragonfly between his narrow jaws, which abruptly turned into alert when he heard a sound that did not at all blend in with the surrounding sounds of croaking frogs, calling birds, and humming insects.

He spun around, facing the water with his mouthful of dragonfly with his small claws raised up aggressively, only to blink in confusion when he realised that the sound came from another suchomimus. A hatchling, just like him, standing on the shore just a few feet away. Small, covered in a scruffy coating of feathers that looked like she had just come from the water. He hadn’t even heard her swim up, where did she come from?

“That was so cool!” Duckweed chirped, bobbing her head in excitement. “I’ve tried to catch them a bunch of times but never got one. That one looks huge!”

Deaglán was immediately in a better mood, and considerably more relaxed. He puffed his chest, smug and pleased with the praise, even if it didn’t come from his brother. “Thankth,” he replied, muffled by the dragonfly in his mouth which suddenly gave an agitated buzz. The vibrations tickled his tongue. He opened his mouth, surprised and almost immediately disappointed when it flew away. That was fine, he didn’t want to eat it anyway.

“Who’re you?” he asked, putting on his best standoffish scowl.

Duckweed looked entirely unperturbed, she had seen Mama Osa give way worse looks to passers-by on numerous occasions. “Duckweed!” she chirped. She looked entirely too pleased with herself. “This ‘s my swamp.”

Deaglán drew his head back with his lip curled slightly, confused. “What, all this?”

Duckweed nodded her head very matter-of-factly, a few feathers poking straight up as they dried off. “Mm-hm! But you can stay a while if you want to. The frogs get real boring to chase after a while, and the big fish eat ‘em sometimes which isn’t fun.”

“There’s frogs?” Deaglán asked with a tilt of his head. His stomach rumbled quietly, making his hide burn with embarrassment. That dragonfly would not have been much of a meal even if he had been able to eat it.

“And turtles but Mama Osa thinks that I’m too little for them. And there’s fish!” Duckweed nodded again.

Fish which they would have to swim for, and Deaglán was still tired. And he was... just not a strong swimmer. He preferred walking.

When he was still quiet, though, Duckweed perked up. “We can still chase frogs! I know I said they’re boring but that’s just chasing them. They’re really nice to eat. And if we can’t catch any, Mama Osa can get us some fish.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” Deaglán agreed, fire in his spirit once again. The name Osa sounded familiar, but Deaglán couldn’t place why.

Osa was, of course, nearby. At a glance, she appeared to be nothing more than a log floating by, mostly submerged, but keeping a sharp eye out for trouble while her adopted young one played with this… new friend of hers. He was only a hatchling. The real potential trouble came from if his parents came up here looking for him. He bore a bit of a resemblance to some of the other hatchling suchomimus that had ended up in her swamp recently, though. Perhaps they were related. If no one claimed him… What was one more hatchling around, really?

She kept a watchful eye on the hatchling pair as they traveled along the marshy edge of the swamp, Duckweed coaxing Deaglán into the water with promise of a good meal of frogs. Deaglán seemed oblivious to the danger of wandering through an unfamiliar swamp, as one so young as him should be. Duckweed had no idea either - Osa was not the only large creature that patrolled the swamplands. The crocodilians just tended to stay away from the considerably larger suchomimus when she was around.

“‘S not far now!” Duckweed promised.

“You said ‘snot’,” Deaglán sneered a laugh, which only prompted Duckweed to reply with a definitive and cheerfully loud, “SNOT!”

True to her word, Duckweed lead Deaglán to prime frog-hunting territory. Grass islands, floating water plants, half-sunken logs (real ones), and barely submerged islands littered with aquatic foliage provided ample habitat for the tasty amphibians, and they had to take no more than a step along the edge of the grass island before a bullfrog squeaked and dove into the water. The pair of hatchlings shared a delighted look before frantically chasing after it, which only served to startle even more out of hiding.

Some of them scattered into the water and disappeared under submerged foliage. Duckweed happily dove into the water after them, coming back up with her tiny feathers slicked to her body once again but with no frog in her teeth. Deaglán managed to spy a frog that thought it was safe, sitting silent and still right at the edge of the water. He moved as slowly as he could, creeping forwards incrementally, his legs and feet gliding smoothly through the shallow water.

At least until he got impatient. He pounced, darting forwards and stretching his neck out - only to get a mouthful of water. He shook his muzzle disgustedly, and it was only then that he looked up and realised that the sky was getting… very dark. And he still had to go home. And he had not managed to catch much more than one tiny frog, which still was not very filling.

Fortunately, at least in Deaglán’s eyes, Duckweed didn’t seem to have had any better luck than he did, but she still looked excited and pleased when she turned to him. “Aw yeah, it’s gettin’ dark huh?”

She brightened up with a sudden thought. “You could stay here tonight! Mama Osa has a nice nest and I’m sure she’d share her fish with you. You can go home in the morning!”

The frog that he had eaten was enough that his stomach did not immediately rumble at the mention of food, but it was still strongly considering it. It took him very little time to make a decision. “Yeah, that sounds good!”

If he was gone all night, his brother and father would be so worried about him, and then he could come back with a great story. The sound of something massive emerging from the water was almost enough to make him change his mind, though.

Deaglán flinched, feet splashing in the water as he whipped around to face the sound with his claws raised and jaws parted slightly to reveal his needle sharp (and very small) teeth. Osa stared down at the little hatchling, with his row of tiny spines along the back of his body, with a decidedly unimpressed look. She had been watching them hunt for frogs from a distance until now, but now that it was getting dark and the hatchlings sleepy, it was time for them to return to her nest. She rumbled deep in her throat as she turned her head towards her hatchling, and Duckweed delightedly ran forwards to greet her mother, making a high-pitched chirping sound in greetings.

Already low to the ground with her knuckles resting in the marshy earth, Osa lowered herself even further to let Duckweed crawl onto her snout. Duckweed glanced over her shoulder at Deaglán. “C’mon! Mama Osa will give you a ride through the swamp, you don’t gotta swim the whole way.”

Deaglán regarded Osa with a wary look, but all he saw in her dark, near-black eyes was his own concern. He didn’t like it. With a puff of his chest, he followed Duckweed and only hesitated briefly in the face of Osa’s much larger teeth before he climbed up on Osa’s snout as well.

The pair of hatchlings crawled over the back of Osa’s head, clinging tightly to her thick feather coat as they made their way along her neck and settling on her shoulders. 

“What’s your name?” Duckweed asked as she nestled into her mother’s feathers, casting a look towards Deaglán. “I forgot to ask, I know that’s rude.” 

Deaglán nestled down beside Duckweed, quite comfortable and sleepy despite being surrounded by strangers. This was gonna be such a good story.