He opened his eyes and blearily looked around him. The gray squirrel had cut their paws free at some point and was now staring off into the distance. Banagher pulled himself up into a sitting position, stretching his stiff muscles.
"Ah, you're awake." The squirrel had turned around and was regarding the otter with a critical gaze. Banagher rotated his paws at the wrists, which had vague rope burns from the night before.
"I'm Banagher," he stated, merely because he had nothing else to say.
"You told me that once already. Do you think I'm deaf?" the squirrel growled, rubbing a paw across his chin. He was quiet for a moment before he added, "sorry, I'm still a bit miffed about the whole sea rat incident." Apparently he regarded his enslavement and the shipwreck as a minor nuisance, a quirky misadventure of sorts.
"I'm Sidhe." He extended a big paw, which the otter shook, repeating the name to himself: see-geh.
"Thanks for saving me last night," the otter said quietly. Sidhe merely shrugged.
"You looked like a useful beast." He dipped a paw into the water and brought it to his face to wash some of the grime off. "Though you almost botched the whole rescue effort bringing that mouse along with you. She almost got you killed."
"But all those beasts died," the otter protested weakly. The squirrel shrugged again, his eyes monitoring the movement of a single cloud in the sunny sky.
"Give me a break. What do you think this is, otter? Some kind of magical world where every beast gets what they deserve and lives happily ever after? Being an oar beast, you should have known better. You have to take fate into your own paws. Save yourself."
"You saved me," commented Banagher. Sidhe regarded him cooly.
"Like I said, you looked like a useful beast. Let's hope I was right." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating that the otter should look in that direction.
"Land," said the squirrel. And indeed it was.
Sidhe and Banagher leaned over and paddled with as many paws as possible while still maintaining balance on the raft. Banagher tried to examine the coastline, but the glare of the sun upon the water repeatedly made his eyes tear, forcing him to look away.
"Do you know where we are?" he finally asked the squirrel over the splashing of their paws. Sidhe remained silent for a moment before speaking.
"They picked me up in ... Madagascar. We've been heading mostly north-east." He considered, his eyes studying the nearing land. "I'd say we're either in India or pretty near. Ceylon maybe." Banagher nodded, mentally examining the map of the world that he had studied in his youth.
Suddenly the squirrel stopped paddling and looked at Banagher. He appeared to be sizing him up.
"You can fight, can't ya, otter?" Sidhe asked, his eyes narrowed. Banagher lifted his chin a bit, confident in his answer.
"I studied under a master fencing instructor from the time I was a dibbun."
Sidhe studied the otter as if he were speaking a foreign language. Finally he shook his head disgustedly, although he did seem at least mildly amused.
"Great," he muttered. "So what you're telling me is that you're highly skilled in the art of poking other beasts with a flimsy, dull blade, all in the name of 'good sportsmanship'. That'll come in real handy." Banagher looked chagrined, averting his eyes and paddling harder.
"Sorry, otter," Sidhe added. "Where I'm from we learn to fight a lot different. I'm sure your...fencing lessons made you...real agile." The squirrel seemed to be making a real effort to be forgiving, if not affable. "Anyway, let's hope neither one of us has to fight, eh?"
The raft had reached the shoreline, where the waves were beginning to break on the sandbars. After coasting over a couple of waves, the squirrel and otter decided to abandon the raft and swim the rest of the way in. Banagher sliced easily through the water, keeping an eye on the squirrel to monitor his progress. He was surprised at the land beast's ease in the water, even though his bushy tail wasn't making things easy for him. Finally the beasts were able to touch their paws to the bottom. They waded in, shaking the salt water from their fur, silently glad to be back on dry land.
Sidhe removed his soggy sweater and started rubbing his fur in the sun, trying to dry it. The air was hot and sticky, seemingly sub-tropical, and both beasts were parched. The squirrel eyed the edge of the beach, where the sand turned to thick jungle.
"Alright, riverdog," he jibed good-naturedly. "Why don't you find us some water." Banagher frowned at the squirrel momentarily, then shrugged and started walking toward the trees. The squirrel followed him, his eyes pinned on his sweater, which he was trying to wring out.
"No sense wasting a perfectly good sweater," he muttered to himself, when suddenly he ran smack into Banagher's back.
"Hey, otter! Watch where you're - " The squirrel stopped talking as his eyes lifted and he saw what had stopped Banagher. Pointed at the squirrel and otter were the sharp ends of a dozen sabers.
Off to the side, looking none too pleased, stood a young pine marten in full regimental attire.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen."