It's Better To Watch Rain Fall From A Covered Porch

Rain drummed on the surface of the water that meandered slowly through the swamplands. It was a constant, pouring rain with no wind to shift it from its path. Thunder rumbled quietly, distantly as dark clouds rolled overhead while soft, thin fog rolled over the flooded land below. Fish, drawn by the ripples and disturbance that the rain caused, broke through the surface from time to time in an attempt to eat insects that were not there.

Rain or shine, Duckweed was comfortable swimming lazily through the deeper channels in the swamp. Even after her shoulder and tail had healed from the behemoth crocodile that had attacked her and Deaglán, it had taken her some time to get comfortable with the water again. Mama Osa hardly left her side for a while after that, and often brought her along for hunts rather than leaving her alone even at the safety of their nest. Growing to a size where the swampland’s crocodilians no longer looked at her as though she was a meal helped her regain a bit of confidence.

Now she just had to worry about other suchomimus, though again, Mama Osa worked hard to make sure that the territory was safe. The heavy-built suchomimus was not one to enjoy the company of others very often, with only a few exceptions.

Like… this one that Duckweed noticed when she surfaced to take a breath. She started to greet him, but stopped. He was carrying himself differently than he usually did. His head low, his claws held together, his steps slow and sluggish as he walked along through the reeds near the edge of the water. He did not look hurt at least, but something was definitely wrong.

She dipped back beneath the water and pushed herself forwards a little faster, kicking off of a submerged log. When she resurfaced, she was closer to the soggy bank, and the ground was starting to level out. “Deaglán! Hey! Are you okay?”

The lone male paused in his step at the sudden voice. When he looked up it was delayed, like he had not quite heard her at first, but even that was a relatively slow movement compared to his usual pace. He had not noticed her approach, lost in his miserable thoughts. He hadn’t even realised that his feet had brought him to the swamps. Maybe he was just subconsciously looking for the comfort of a friend, and knew that Duckweed was likely to be around.

He sighed, not saying anything for a moment as Duckweed walked up to him. “You okay?” she asked again. Maybe he hadn’t heard her the first time. The rain was pretty loud as it beat down against the reeds and water.

Deaglán was silent again for a beat, and even though she could not smell or see any blood, Duckweed really started to worry. Finally, he sighed.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” he mumbled.

Duckweed tilted her head as she pulled back slightly. “No… ?” she answered cautiously. “Why, what happened?”

Water dripped off his muzzle as he let his gaze fall to the ground again. “... You remember that group I told you about?”

Duckweed’s voice was a little guarded. “... Yeah, I remember them.” Duckweed had not been entirely fond of the group of suchomimus that he had described, a bunch of hooligans running around that seemed to get a kick out of bullying other dinosaurs along the shore. He had been spending more and more time with them as they grew up, and less time hanging out with her around the swamp. She had always been perfectly comfortable in the sprawling expanse at the heart of Isla Kela, living happily with Mama Osa. Deaglán had said something about feeling the need to explore and that this group felt like a good fit, and they always found “cool stuff.” He’d seemed happy at the thought of joining up with them, even if they did not seem like a good crowd to be hanging out with. They weren’t that bad, he’d told her.

“They’re gone,” he murmured. It was hard to hear him over the rain, his voice was so quiet.

“What?”

Deaglán looked up at her again, his eyes a mix of grief and anger. “They’re gone. I woke up and they left me behind. I dunno where they went.”

There was a faint look of hurt in Duckweed’s eyes at the tone that his voice took. “I’m - I’m sorry,” he backpedalled immediately. “I’m not… I just - ” He turned his gaze out towards the swamp, then downriver. He felt like such a screw-up all the time.  “Feels like everyone I run into ends up leaving me behind eventually. My brother. That group. My… my… “

Duckweed gave him a sympathetic look. She rested the tip of her snout on Deaglán’s shoulder, behind the sharp spines that lay there, and when he didn’t pull away she more fully rested her jaw on his back. He returned the gesture, finding what he needed. The comfort of an old friend. Duckweed had some thoughts about that group that he ran with, about the hypocrisy of him saying he was left behind when he had gone and run off and left her here in the swamp, but… now was not the time to be chastising.

They stood there for as long as Deaglán needed, just letting the rain fall on them and slide off their backs.

“I think I know somethin’ that might cheer you up a bit,” Duckweed offered, a bit more of her usual, happier tone in her voice when Deaglán started to feel like he was ready to move again.

Deaglán turned his snout slightly, still resting on her shoulder but glancing her way in a wordless, tired question of “What’s that?”

Duckweed pulled back a bit, Deaglán following her lead as she turned back towards the water. “It’s a secret. C’mon, I’ll show you! It’s not that far of a swim, I promise. Most of it’ll be walkin’ anyway.”

Deaglán watched after her for a moment, debating on whether or not he really wanted to follow and be “surprised” right now, but ultimately relented when his curiosity got the better of him. He didn’t really want to be alone right now anyway, and taking a dip in the water wasn’t so bad when he was already soaking wet. The water was actually warmer than the ambient air temperature, surprisingly, and the warmth gave him a little more energy.

“I’m starting to think you just wanted me to get some exercise,” he complained, sounding a bit more like his usual self after they had been swimming for a while.

“It’s not that far. We could have just walked but it would have taken like, two days to get around the whole swamp.”

“I almost would have rather done that,” Deaglán muttered, shaking rainwater off of his head - or maybe it was just swampwater.

“What’d you say?” Duckweed called, teasing as she turned her head to glance towards him. The bottom of the channel was levelling out, rising into more reeds and giving way to a number of shrubs and cypress trees.

“I said ‘yeah, ‘cause we’re already getting there so fast,” Deaglán replied, a little louder. “We’ve been swimming for ages. I thought you said we were going to have to walk for a while.”

Duckweed shook the water from her feathers, which did very little as the rain was still coming down. “We’re almost there. I decided to take you on a shortcut. I promise you’ll like it. There’s a bunch of neat old - “ Duckweed paused, almost giving away the surprise in her excitement. “Well. You’ll see! It’s actually just through this brush.”

Deaglán snorted and shook his head. This had better be worth it.

He followed her lead as Duckweed pushed her way through the thicker undergrowth, shrubs and small trees that had taken root on the island that were hardy enough to withstand the saturated soil. It was obvious what she had found when they passed through the foliage.

Beached on the island was an old houseboat, or maybe it had purposefully been left there by the original owners. It was far from mint condition, with part of the bottom rotted out and a wall collapsed into one of the rooms. Not far away was a dilapidated wooden shack that was half-collapsed into the swamp with a covered porch that lead towards a broken-down wooden docks. The dock stuck out into the channel, with a few rotting boards that left holes in the path towards a couple of mildew-covered lawn chairs which sat at the end.

“So, what do you think?” Duckweed asked, glancing back at Deaglán.

The male snorted in faint amusement, but his eyes were full of fascinated curiosity. “Okay, you’re right, this does look old,” he teased.

Duckweed gave him a nudge with her shoulder before knuckle-crawling towards the long-abandoned buildings. “Come on, I’ve been waitin’ for you to be around so we could explore this place together.”

Deaglán felt a bit of a sting at her words, but… maybe rightfully so. He had been gone for a while. Long enough for the spots along his jaw and thighs to properly come in, like Ketla’s.

“I’m coming,” he snorted again as he shook more rain from his hide. “How’d you even find this place?”

“Mama Osa and I were explorin’ a little further out than we usually did lookin’ for some new fishin’ waters.” Duckweed peered into one of the windows of the shack. It looked… pretty small inside. They wouldn’t be able to squeeze in through the door, even if they crouched, but maybe crawling in from the collapsed side they could find some cool stuff inside. Or just poke their noses in. The porch, at least, they could crawl under and shelter from the rain.

Deaglán was investigating the house boat. The collapsed wall made it a nice shelter, and gave him plenty good of an idea of what sort of treasures lay inside. “You’re right, it is pretty neat,” he admitted with a snort. “And you waited… just to explore it with me?” he asked, glancing back towards Duckweed.

The scruffy suchomimus had settled down underneath the porch, watching him with fondness in her dark eyes. “Of course I did. Wouldn’t do it without you.”

Deaglán looked back into the houseboat, just getting another glance at the sorts of things that lay undisturbed for who knew how long before he walked over to the covered porch to lay down by Duckweed. She rested her head against his neck, and he leaned against her in kind.

For a while, there was silence. Just the pair of them, leaning against one another with nothing but the sounds of rain and many happy frogs and toads enjoying the copious amount of water.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” Duckweed said quietly.

Deaglán sighed deeply and looked out into the swamp, watching the rain as it continued to fall. His voice was a murmur when he spoke again, but full of sincerity. “Thanks, Duckweed.”