Land.

Farrarl's heat-muddled brain dimly tried to explain the blotch coming into view. Farrarl normally had excellent eyesight- however, floating for an innumerable number of days on a chunk of driftwood did wonders on your thoughts.

Farrarl shaded his eyes from the glaring sun with his paw while reaching for a plant-woven water pouch with the other. As the last few dribbles of fresh, non-salty water dripped into his mouth, he finally settled on the fact that he was hallucinating. Days of little water and practically no food had finally gotten to him. That blotch was just a figment of his imagination. A realistic figment, it must be said, but a figment nonetheless.

Of course, had he been stronger, hydrated, and relatively well fed, he could have easily swam the remaining distance between him and the unexplained blotch in the distance. After all, he was a giant river otter.

Oh, did I forget to mention that? Well, let's elaborate. Even though Farrar's once-velvety fur was now crusted with ocean salt, and his ribs were easily visible through his pelt, it was still obvious that he was a giant, and that he would have dwarfed most anybeast in his presence. Strapped to his thigh on a caiman-hide belt was a slightly rusted, though still massive, steel war axe.

Unfortunately, Farrarl was about as weak as if somebeast had repeatedly beaten him across the face with an angry cobra. Not only that, but he could barely remember anything. All he could remember was a calm river, brightly colored plants, equally bright fish, insanely deadly bugs, the occasional caiman, and others of his kind. However, it all muddled together into a whirlpool of mixed memories as he tried to pick individual thoughts out.

Farrarl, said a faint voice. Almost like a breath on the wind. Farrarl looked up, his spine cracking as he did so.

The ocean around him was empty, except for the mysterious blob that was still growing bigger.

Farrarl groaned and let his head fall back down, his whiskers brushing the saltwater. This proved that he was hallucinating. There was no other explanation.

Farraaaaarl, murmured the voice again, marginally louder.

Farrarl glanced up again. The ocean around him was most definitely empty, except for the land/hallucination in the distance that he was slowly drifting closer to.

Farrarl was about to go limp again when the voice spoke again. Farrarl, the voice insisted.

"What do you want from me?" He snapped. Or croaked, really. His throat was drier than a pawful of sand.

Suddenly, a faint image floated into his field of vision. It looked like some sort of smaller beast- though nothing he could have recognized from his days in his previous home. He had a long, thin tail, and relatively small feet. While the beast was obviously quite a bit smaller than Farrarl, he was brawny and tough-looking, and battle armor coated his body. A gleaming sword was clamped firmly in his mailed paw. Despite his warlike appearance, infinite wisdom and kindness shone through his eyes.

Farrarl, the beast said. Your fate is not to end here. You have much ahead of you, and much behind you too. You shall find out both in time.

Farrarl coughed, his dry mouth rejecting any sound that resembled normal speech. After some effort, he managed to rasp, "Who… Who are you?"

The beast smiled kindly. I am Martin. I am always with you. With that, he vanished.

Farrarl blinked uncertainly, trying to decide whether or not that had really happened. It turned out that conversing with his maybe-imaginary friend Martin was a little too much stress for his heat befuddled brain to manage. A pounding headache rippled through his cranium, and his body fell limp to the driftwood log once more.

Only half-conscious, Farrarl watched through half-lidded eyes as the not-so-imaginary blob grew in size until he could make out small details- trees, though they looked nothing like what he was used to, sand, pale and golden, and an old wooden wreckage of a ship, with the mast snapped in half and leaning onto the sand.

Eventually, the shores grew… grew… grew a little bit more… until the constant rocking motion of the waves stopped, and Farrarl could feel gritty sand beneath his paws.

Then, everything went black.