It was mother nature's cruel idea of a joke to have it start raining now. The rivers and lakes were already filling higher than they had in the past three years, and the bridges were covered as a result. In fact, the only way to cross now, was to try and swim across.
It was also his parents' cruel idea of a joke to name him River when he couldn't swim. ...Not that they'd have known that when he was born, but that wasn't the point!
The blonde scowled, hugging his shivering form tightly and pacing up and down the wet, muddied grass along the stream's bank. Or what had been a stream and now looked more like a small lake. Go figure. River's sour look only deepened and he inched forward until the water was lapping at his toes, thinking just maybe he could try and get across because it couldn't be that deep, could it? So he'd just go slow and--okaymaybenotlet'sscootbacknow. He scrabbled backwards as he started to slip forward and his feet came out from under him.
His rear hit the soft ground while his feet searched for traction, of which he found none. The mud gave way and it was all he could do to twist halfway around and dig his fingers into the earth and hold on for dear life.
A few seconds of clinging and trembling passed, and River squinched his eyes shut and tried dragging himself back up to where the ground was level. He managed upwards a few inches, groping and digging and scrambling as best as he could. Just another foot or so... half a foot... ten inches... Almost there-!
And suddenly the rock embedded into the mud that he'd been using as a foothold came loose, and he went sliding right back down to where he'd started and then some - clear into the water.
Well. He learned the hard way that the water was a hell of a lot deeper than it looked. And as rushing as it had looked from above, the undercurrents made finding proper footing impossible. River managed to get himself to air once or twice, gasping in and inhaling half water as the current pulled him back under again and again. The sound was deafening, worsened by the steady onslaught of rain overhead.
Eventually, the sound dulled out and his lungs stopped hurting from the lack of air and everything was dark.
Maybe he couldn't swim, but apparently mother nature or god or whatever there was in the world seemed to think he had an affinity for water, because it would seem drowning wasn't on the schedule for him. Eventually the rain let up, and the night passed, and the little blonde boy's body half washed up onto a flat area of shore, where he lay sprawled face-down and unconscious.
