My maw goes down and I snap my jaws and am surprised to find that his neck is between them. For half a second I worry that my pointy teeth will hurt him but I can't think like that right now. All I can do is save him. What would I be without my brother? I would NEVER find the answer to that. I would save him. This was my moment. His weight drags at me and I want to whimper because my neck hurts at the pull. The water tries to drag him beneath the log but I am firm, shimmying towards the bank. My claws dig in, slipping against the slick log. I dig in harder, determined to prevail. There would be no stopping me. My brother's life is at risk!

I drag and I pull. It feels like an eternity, like time no longer works in the same way, and I whimper against him because I feel my jaws trembling. I won't let him slip. The bank is only a foot away. 10 inches.... 8 inches... 5 inches! I gather my strength and make a last wide shimmy, my paws slipping so that my chest slams hard against the log but he is there, scrabbling at the land. Only when I am certain he does not fall back do I let go, hanging there and panting. I stare at his soaked self. Then I burst into tears.

"Th-th-thor! You almost drowned!" I push up, weak from my exertion because the current and his weight were much stronger than me. I wobble from the log and straight into him (safely on land, this time), and lick him in the face. "I'm sorry! I almost killed you!" And that makes me wail harder. I know I am being melodramatic but with my adrenaline coming down panic is once more setting in, along with shock and fear. See? This is why we don't play by the river! I wanted so bad to just go home and dry off and sleep off this fatigue now. The beaver could be left alone for today, I have had enough.