Sniffler's Produce
A simple three-sided stall filled with baskets and tubs of water makes up this out-of-the-way store. Located on the opposite side of the Mint River from the town proper, it caters solely to those with a taste for vegetables and herbs that can only be grown in open water. Most are used as spices and snacks, except for the swamp rice that is important in many local dishes. Swamp apples bob in their tubs, along with various kinds of water-squash and more exotic looking plants.

On this warm morning, the usual overcast has broken up a bit to let the sun shine through. And one golden-furred Akwavi girl isn't going to let the opportunity slip by – instead of manning the counter in the produce stand, she's on the roof doing a bit of sunbathing.

With a determined glint in his eye and a pack of stuff thrown over his shoulder, he's a man on a mission. The other indication this is the case is because everyone is giving him a wide berth as he marches towards the produce stand. When Gunther has that look of determination, it's best to not get too close to him. When he finds the stand empty, he frowns. But, it doesn't take him too long to notice the shadow on the roof and the lazy tail hanging over the side. "Hey, Midge!" he calls out from below, "You awake?"

"I'm awake!" declares a startled otter voice, and Midge doesn't climb down so much as pour down off of the roof. She runs a webbed paw through her uniquely long head hair before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. "We've got fresh canoe-nuts today, and water-parsley and… umm… other stuff!" she quickly belts out.

"I'm interested in your hands and feet," Gunther remarks and eyes the otter. "What would you charge for 'em?"

The blond otter holds her hands up to face, and looks them over. "Uh… you mean to eat?" she finally asks Gunther.

"No, no. I need a model for some gloves and shoes. I want to swim better," the Kadie explains and sets his pack onto the counter. "And this place smells better than Emmett's shack."

"We have a lot of mint in here," Midge notes. "But, like, Akwavi don't wear gloves or shoes, so why would you want to make any for one?"

"Not for one. For me," Gunther says with exasperation and thrusts out his hand to show his decidedly unwebbed fingers. "These aren't so good to swim with."

Midge makes an 'oh' face, and then looks at Gunther's feet – which are nothing like the small feet of an Akwavi. "So… you like my hands?" she asks instead, turning them in front of her face again as if seeing them for the first time. "Nobody's ever complimented me on my hands before. It's usually, like… other bits… "

"Other bits?" Gunther asks, looking confused. "Akwavi hands work better in water, which means they must be more efficient for the environment. So, in that respect, I like them. I want to try to replicate their effectiveness. Do you have time to help? If not, I can … find someone else. I think."

Midge looks around at the nonexistent throng of shoppers, then shrugs and says, "Okay, sure. You've got me curious now! I mean, like, shouldn't you be trying to make a machine to swim for you, or some gizmo to suck the water out of your way or something?"

"Sucking the water out of the way is easy," Gunther says and waves his hands. He then goes about pulling out some fabric, scissors, paper, and various measuring instruments. "As for making a swimming machine … too bulky and obvious. Hard to sneak properly! So, uh, find a comfortable place to sit."

The otter sits on the edge of a bucket of crab-knuckles, and says, "Sneak? I figured since Zany is making an airship, you'd make, like, an under-water-ship instead. If it's under the water, like, only otters would see it."

"Well, maybe I want to sneak around otters and capture the ones up to no good!" Gunther says ominously. He picks up an oddly V-shaped tool with markings on it. Taking one of Midge's hands into his, he stars measuring the length of the fingers and how that compares to the length of the webbing.

The tool occupies Midge's full attention. For five seconds. "Well, wouldn't you need to swim better than an otter then?" she asks.

"That's stage two. Stage one is to improve my movement in water in the first place. I'm lousy," Gunther comments. He sets the tool aside and starts scribbling down the measurements and observations about webbing curvature. "Does the webbing ever get irritating?" he asks.

Wiggling her fingers, Midge says, "Makes it hard to wear rings, yeah. But you know, like, we don't really use them to swim with."

"Eh, what do you use them for then?" Gunther asks, peering over the top of his notebook.

"Oh, the usual hand and feet sort of stuff," Midge says, her whiskers twitching. "Sure, we use them to like, steer and stuff in the water, but not to really swim. I mean, if you had to use your arms and legs for that, you wouldn't be able to hold your breath for long. You'd get tired. We use our… whatchacallems… uh… spines?"

Gunther's brow furrows at that. "I do not see how your spine could propel you in water. It does not have any surface area to push the water," he observes dubiously.

"Push?" Midge asks. "You can't push water, can you? It would just flow around your fingers. But… uh, like, did you ever watch how we swim?"

"Of course you can push water. How do you think a pump works? How do you think the dam works?" Gunther notes and taps his pencil on his notebook. "And no, actually, I haven't," he admits.

"Oh, well, you need to watch then," Midge says. "And you need to, like… know about the bubbles too. Bubbles are important."

"Bubbles? How are bubbles important?" Gunther asks next. "And I … guess I'll have to get an otter to demonstrate swimming for me, then."

"Well, we get bubbles in our fur, sorta," Midge tries to explain. "Because we have really, really, really thick fur. The air gets stuck in it, so like, in the water… it does something that makes it easier to swim, or something. So you have to have thick fur that holds bubbles."

"Mine just gets waterlogged and I sink," Gunther grumbles. He then reaches over and actually starts feeling around Midge's stomach, trying to see how thick her fur actually is.

There are, apparently, several different layers to the Akwavi's fur, and it really is denser than a Kadie's… or just about any other kind of fur Gunther's familiar with. Eventually Midge starts to giggle though. "That tickles!"

"Huh. You're tiny," Gunther ends up finally saying and pulls his hands back. "I never would have suspected, not with all that talk I keep hearing from you folks about how 'big' you are and about the pain of wearing vests."

Midge blows a raspberry sort of sound. "I'm just right, mind you! And… I forgot what I was gonna say… oh! Right… um… fur. See, these outside hairs sorta link together and make it so the water doesn't really get to our skin, and the fine hairs underneath hold the air… and… so we don't really get wet, and… uh, stay warm. That was it. We stay warm. Water is cold you know."

"Yes, water is cold," Gunther says, repeating the obvious. "And just right what? I never understand you Akwavi," he notes and waggles a pencil at her. "I still think it's some secret code language and how you pass around your diabolic plans."

"What kind of ball?" Midge asks. "And you're the one making up words. I mean, what does eating fish at sea have to do with how well we swim?"

"Huh? I didn't say anything about eating fish at sea," Gunther says, looking rather confused now.

"Yeah, you did, I'm not forgetful," Midge argues. "You said otter paws were better at swimming because of eat-fish-at-sea."

"Efficiency, not eat fish at sea!" Gunther barks back. "As in more effective at a particular task!"

"You don't have to bark," Midge says, looking slightly offended. "Anyway, we use our feet mostly, like. A few kicks, then you wiggle-hump to keep going. Too bad there isn't like, good sliding ground around the dam. I bet you'd like sliding… "

Gunther has to stop himself from puffing up. So, he counts backward from five to calm down. "What do you mean by wiggle-hump and sliding?" he asks as he kneels down to start taking measurements of her feet next.

"You know, like… wiggle-humping… " the other says, and makes a wavy up and down motion with one hand. "Like a serpent, only, like, the other direction… "

One of Gunther's brows goes up at that. "Er, okay. I guess I understand," he admits. "So, you are pushing against the water, only with your entire body."

"Don't say pushing," Midge chides. "That just… doesn't sound right. It sounds like work. That's not what swimming is about. Or sliding. I mean, you only run a few steps for sliding, and then… slide the rest of the way… on your belly. We have contests to see who can go the farthest."

"That sounds a like you'd just get dirty," Gunther notes. With a free hand he taps the stand, adding, "And you do realize you're working at this stand… "

"No I ain't, I'm just sitting on my bum while you play with my toes," Midge says.

"What is it with the aversion to work? How do you expect to impress anyone and get a date if you don't do anything?" Gunther asks as he continues to 'play' with her toes … which involves a lot of measuring.

Another raspberry is blown. "Work isn't natural, fun is. Fun is more fun, so you should do it more. That's just common sense! You Kadies just don't know how to have fun. And you don't impress another otter with work, unless it's fun work, like finding them the Right Fish."

"We do too know how to have fun! Building things is a lot of fun!" Gunther argues. "So is net climbing, thank you!" He then pauses for a moment and has too ask, "Er, what do you mean about a right fish? There's a wrong fish?"

"The Right Fish is the fish that's right for the person you give it to," Midge explains, with the air of someone well versed in fishy etiquette. "See, when you like an otter, you have to find out everything you can about them. What they like to eat, what games they like best, and like… their whole personality. Then, see, you have to find the right fish for them. Catching it has to be as fun as being with the otter, and the challenge of catching it should match how much you like them. It's like, symbological. You're catching a fish, but you're sorta catching the otter too, by proximily, and then you offer that fish to the person and it's like… uh… I'm giving you to yourself… to show that I think you're really nice… and stuff."

"You're giving you to yourself to show you I like you? That's … silly," Gunther admits, looking even more confused than ever. "Fish aren't anything like otters! How can you find one that represents an otter!"

"And since you caught the fish, it means you're sorta worthy to catch the otter too," Midge adds on.

Gunther starts to say something to that, then just stops. "Okay, well, maybe that part makes sense. I guess. Maybe," he admits.

"That's easy, you just think of the things that make that otter special, right? And find a fish that matches," she explains next. "Like, are they big and strong? Fast? Light or dark? Clever? Sneaky? Cute? You just find a fish that… matches!"

"So, what was your right fish and who gave it to you?" Gunther ends up asking. He peers at Midge strangely, as if she's some sort of invading monster. Otters sure are weird.

"Emmett caught a big fish with a beak and yellow scales once, and it had two tails and eyes on stalks," Midge says excitedly. "It was really awesome! It tried to bite off my finger even! Squeee!"

Gunther nearly laughs at that. "Ah, so you're one of Emmett's conquests too? I've heard about him from Zahn," he says, snickering.

"Conquest? That's like, a Kadie thing," Midge retorts. "It doesn't sound fun at all. But the fish was yellow, and unique, that's what counts. It like, probably took him days to find it."

"So, what about the twins, Nene and Bebe, what have been their right fish and who got it?" Gunther asks next, brow arched. He even stops taking notes on his pad.

"How should I know?" Midge asks. "Like, maybe they haven't gotten any yet. Why do you want to know about them?"

"No reason!" Gunther says quickly and goes back to 'writing notes'.

Not letting her attention wander this time (or, more likely, not having anything else to focus on yet), Midge says, "They'd be hard ones to find the Right Fish for, anyway. I mean, they're like Emmett's aprehensitices, or something. Sneaky."

"They're not that sneaky," Gunther argues, "Nene asked to borrow some stuff from me. If they were sneaky wouldn't it have been better to swipe it?"

"Well, like, how do you know they didn't take something else, and asking for that other thing was a distraction or way to get your guard down?" Midge asks.

"Because … I just know!" Gunther asserts and closes his notebook. He starts putting away his things. "Thanks for letting me take more precise measurements and make diagrams," he starts to say … and then pauses. He pulls out a brush and starts brushing Midge on the stomach now.

"Hey, that's pretty neat," Midge says. "What kind of brush is that?"

"Detangling brush; it removes embedded mats," Gunther answers, "I want a fur sample for later analysis." He brushes a bit longer then draws it back, complete with a big puff of fur on the end.

"So you're gonna use real otter fur for the gloves and booties?" Midge asks.

"Likely not. I just need a sample to try and replicate it. I would have to brush a lot of otters to get enough for real fur, afterall," Gunther points out.

"Hey, you could get them to come and be brushed," Midge asserts. "And… oh… hey, how good are your whiskers?"

"Er, what do you mean how good are my whiskers? My whiskers are … whiskers," Gunther says and wiggles them in demonstration.

"I mean, can you like, use them in the water?" Midge asks. "You know, to feel stuff?"

"Well, I use them to feel things at night when climbing through trees. Does that count?" Gunther asks.

"I guess so," Midge says, scratching at her own whiskers. "We close up our ears underwater, so, like, we hear with our whiskers more while swimming. Can you close your ears to keep water out?"

"Uh, no. We use wax to plug them when we have to work underwater at the dam," Gunther notes. "How do you close your ears?"

"You just… close them," Midge says, and opens and closes her small ears.

Gunther … just wiggles his. "We can't do that," he admits.

"I guess the wax thingy is good enough then," Midge offers. "Just remember that you have to keep your fingers and toes together on the draw and only spread them on the kick while swimming, and like, use your tail to steer."

"Uh. I think someone will have to show me what that means," Gunther admits as he packs up his stuff. "And I've probably taken up enough of your time today. You'll have a rush of customers soon, right?"

"What? A rush?" Midge asks, looking alarmed. She hops to her feet and dashes out of the booth to look all around, in case she's about to be overwhelmed by Skeeks.

"Uh, right. Bye, then," Gunther says and slips away while Midge is distracted. "A right fish? A right fish?" he ponders as he heads towards town. "I don't even know what kind of fish there is!" So, where does he go? He detours to make a stop at the fish stand … to learn about fish.

The fish stand is all the way across town, next to the other bridge that crosses the Milk Run River, and is actually part of the boat docks. Fish tend to be mixed and dumped into barrels, with the only separation being between 'live' and 'dead' fish. A boat is just pulling away from the dock, with a passenger wearing a colorful hat. This leaves just Emmett Oggton to man the stall.

Gunther waves sort of half-heartedly to Emmett, then peers after the boat heading into the swamp. "I knew it. She's up to something again," he mutters to himself. But … more important things are at hand. He heads over to one of the barrels and peers in … and promptly makes a face. "Ugh, phew," he complains.

"Nothing like the smell o' fish to perk you up, 'eh Gunny?" Emmett says, propping his elbows on the edge of the barrel and taking a deep breath.

"I think I feel sick," Gunther comments and pulls away from the barrel. If a Kadie could turn green, he probably would right now. "They all look … different. How many kinds are there?"

"Two kinds," Emmett says, his whiskers twitching in merriment. "Suckers and biters."

"Er, come again?" Gunther asks. "They all look different! There has to be more than just two!"

"Well, depends on what you mean by 'kinds' o' fish," Emmett says. "I split 'em by how they feed, see, cuz' that tells how they swim, where to find 'em, and how fast they are in the water."

"Well, I would guess biters are faster and sneakier since they probably hunt, right?" Gunther asks. He reaches in and lifts a dead one up by its rear fin. "Bleh, it's slimy," he notes.

"That means it's fresh!" Emmett claims. "Why the interest in what kinds o' fish they are? Don't you just use the oil?"

"I can't be curious about fish and otters?" Gunther asks, then drops the fish back into the barrel with a splat.

"Otters?" Emmett asks, reaching up to tilt his straw hat back a bit. "I didn't mention otters."

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?" Gunther points out as if that should answer that question. "Ahem, anyway."

"Ah, so you want to learn how to live large and in charge, like ol' Emmett, is that it?" the Akwavi asks, grinning toothily. "What'd you want to know, lad?"

"How do you catch these … things? They're too slimy to hold easily. I mean, sure, you could shoot them with one of my crossbows … but that would mangle them," Gunther asserts as he peers back into the barrel and holds his nose.

"Nets, or teeth," Emmett says. "Live ones were netted, o' course. But the suckers stay on the bottom, and you have to hunt 'em the old fashioned way."

"You … bite them? Without washing them first? Ew!" Gunther says and sticks out his tongue. "They have to taste vile!"

"They're in the water already, why wash 'em?" Emmett says. "Sometimes we eat 'em right there on the spot… "

Gunther's left eye twitches. "You … eat … them … alive," he sputters out, looking both aghast and ill at the same time. "This water is dirty too!"

"Doesn't hurt the fish none," Emmett notes. "Can't be that bad, roight?"

"Uh," Gunther says, then tries to change the subject a little. "How hard is it to learn to catch them?"

"It's just like sliding off a log," Emmett says. "Unless you aren't an Oggton, o' course. You trying to invent a fishing machine to put us out o' business?"

"No, no, no, nothing like that," Gunther says and waves his hands frantically. "I'm just curious. Nothing wrong with being curious, right? Nothing wrong with a Kadie asking about catching fish, right?" He's gone into babble mode, yes.

"Not wrong, zactly, just… odd," Emmett says, getting a sly look. "Wot's this really about, eh? You don't ask about things like this usually, Gunny. You's up to something."

"Why does everything think I'm always up to something?" the Kadie sputters. "I can't broaden my horizons?"

"Eh, you mean you're interested in something you can't shoot, trap or explode?" Emmett asks. "You gonna go be a fisherman?"

"Not as a career, no," Gunther says, trying to calm down. "Maybe once or twice."

"You think the fish are gonna invade?" Emmett asks.

"No," Gunther says and goes back to looking in the barrel. "Does it really matter why?"

"Could," Emmett says. "I mean, why you want to fish sorta helps figger out how you should fish, aye?"

Gunther looks very annoyed. Mainly because the logic is sound. Nothing traps a Wingnut faster than sound logic. "IneedtofindtherightfishforacoupleAkwavi," he says in his rapid fire, hyper, voice.

"Oh, well why didn't you say so from the git-go?" Emmett says, tilting his hat back down. "See, you can't do that with a net, it'd be cheatin'. And you don't want suckers, 'less you had a low opinion o' the Akwavi in question."

"AndIdon'twantitspreadaroundtown!" Gunther appends to his statement and glares at Emmett. "What do I want?"

"Biters o' course," Emmett says. "You gots to stalk 'em and chase 'em. If you can trick 'em, that's even better."

"I'm not about to bite them, though. Bleh," Gunther mutters and sticks out his tongue. "How do you stalk them?"

"Same way you stalk anything," Emmett says, looking sideways at Gunther. "Of all the Kadies, I'd think you would know about stalking."

"You can't stalk in water," Gunther asserts.

"What makes you think that?" Emmett asks, smiling again.

"It's all sloshy and slow," Gunther says and waves at the swamp. "And full of muck."

"Oh, and treetops is wide open and you can see forever, eh?" Emmett asks. "Stalking is about seeing without being seen, and dark water is easy to hide in. Fish is stupider than land critters."

"Easy for you to say, with all your wiggle-humping in the water!" Gunther argues. "Kadies swim like … well, most sink."

"See, that's where you mistake stalking for hunting," Emmett opines. "You gotta know your prey, like. Some fish only swim around at night, and sleep during the day – so you hunt 'em during the day when they're all logy and hiding in the bottom mud. And they's stupid. An otter floating still in the water is no diff'rent than a log to them, until they get too close. You can lure the fish to you, see? Just gotta have the right sort of bait."

"Something that smells awful, probably," Gunther grunts and steps away from the barrel. "I don't even know the right kind of fish to get yet."

"Well, maybe you should think about the bait instead," Emmett suggests. "If you know the proper bait, then the right fish will come for it."

"Yeah, but what is sneaky bait?" Gunther asks, looking dejected.

"Something rare and special," Emmett suggests. "Or unusual. There are curious fish, too. Something new shows up, and they gotta check it out." The otter rubs the back of his neck for a moment, and then says, "You could just dangle your tail in the water and see what bites. How often do fish see a Kadie tail?"

Gunther grabs his tail and hugs it. "I've had otters pull me in the water by my tail before," he says defensively. "How do I know that wouldn't happen again?"

"Well, can't say it won't," Emmett admits, grinning again. "I mean, a fishing Kadie would sure get my attention."

"Aha! I knew it, you're plotting against me!" Gunther says and waggles a finger at Emmett. "This was … a stupid idea."

"So who are the fishies for, anyway?" Emmett asks, taking the accusation in stride.

"Does it matter?" Gunther asks.

"I mean, you'll just tell them," he adds.

"Why would I tell them?" Emmett says. "It'd be much more fun to see you try to catch fish!"

Gunther glowers a bit. Then in a really quiet voice, he says, "The twins. Nene and Bebe."

Emmett suddenly looks solemn. "Oh, that's a tricky bit, that is," he mutters. "And both at once, at that? Really tricky… "

"I knew it. They're already taken," Gunther says and hefts his pack a bit to balance the weight on his shoulder.

"Eh? Not hardly," Emmett says, extending and retracting his claws a bit. "Nobody's been able to impress them both, see? You'd need two identical fish, or one really big one. Something really special. Like Old Swampy herself, or a frog-duke or maybe even a porcupine fish."

"We're good at something impressive … just that it usually involves explosions," Gunther admits. "I'll figure something out. But why identical? Nene was telling me Bebe is already claiming to be bigger in places than Nene and even made me take measurements to compare."

"Oh, who won?" Emmett asks curiously. "But for fish… well, they'd compare those too, roight? So if one thought the other got a better fish, it'd get nasty, I reckon."

"I don't know who won yet. Haven't gotten to measure Bebe," Gunther says with a shrug. "Maybe they're just trying to tease me or make fun of me. Lots of people do."

"That ain't nothing to take personal, they do that to everyone," Emmett says. "Part o' their charm! I taught 'em that!" he adds proudly.

"Ah, then I know who to blow up," Gunther says with a wide grin.

"It had better be an impressive explosion then!" Emmett says, puffing out his chest (which is hard to separate from the rest of his tube-shaped torso). "Light up the sky and shake the Creens out o' the trees, and there has to be a crater that will fill in and become a pond. Emmett's Pond, it'll say!"

Gunther just shakes his head. "I have a lot of thinking to do. And work. Lots of work yet," the Kadie grumbles. "So, I should be going. Thanks for talking and not laughing at me. I can't imagine many Kadies, uhm, show interest in Akwavi."

"Oh, we don't usually wait for 'em too," Emmett says. "We're the hunters, after all!"

Gunther laughs! "What, you hunt Kadies? Only thing I've ever heard of is Amelia slapping you."

"Kadies, Skeeks, Lapi… just about everything that's interesting around here," Emmett says, then glances west over the bridge to the gypsy camp. "Hmmm, maybe Khattas too. And Eeee… "

"And that's just cuz' the ones that don't slap me have nothing to complain about," Emmett adds in a whisper.

"Hah! Good luck with the gypsies. You'd need it," Gunther retorts. He waves and starts off. "Don't get into too much trouble."

"Wait, aintcha gonna buy a fish?" Emmett asks.

Gunther pauses and looks back. "And do what with it?" he asks, brow raised. "You don't expect me to eat one, do you?"

"Well, maybe you could take a live one and raise it up to be a monster," Emmett suggests. "I think that's what Dr. Pike does with the stuff we bring her."

"I mean, can Kadie even eat fish?" Gunther asks and walks back. He peers into the barrel.

"Depends on yer ancestry," Emmett says. "If you got some of the gray blood, you could. Red's like the Rootrunners wouldn't though. But you all get fat off nuts anyway, so why bother with meat, eh?"

"Fine, just, what would you recommend then. I guess I should buy something since you talked to me," Gunther admits.

"Well… ever taken care of a pet before?" Emmett asks, looking into the 'live' barrel.

"No. No one trusts me enough," Gunther grumbles.

"Well, you can start with a fish, and maybe work your way up to something more… sturdy," Emmett suggests. "Like a turtle. 'Course, I can't really tell you how to raise a pet fish. Never had one myself."

"I'll … think about it. I really should get going," Gunther says. He digs in a pocket and then drops a shekel on the counter. "I'll get something later. Or toss an extra to Nene and Bebe and tell em you're being generous, or something," he says.

Emmett bites the coin, and then waves to Gunther. "Well, glad I can be of help, Gunny! Let me know when the explosion thing is gonna happen, so I don't miss it, okay?"

Gunther just shakes his head as he walks away. "They're all crazy," he mutters, "I'm crazy! What am I doing? I need my head examined. I wonder if the phrenologist is still around… "