To compensate for how hard she'd pushed them the previous night, Rucci let her students have the morning off. After hearing this news over breakfast, some went back to bed. Others, awake for the day, lounged around with their friends or went for walks. Coda and Mrue sat in the shade of an oak, Coda listlessly strumming on his guitar, Mrue fiddling with a flower chain and watching the antics of the rest of the Singers.

Nellie walked over, hips undulating and rolling in a way she had to have practiced. She plopped herself down by Coda, close enough that her hip and leg pressed against his. She gave his a slow wink and a big grin. "Hey, Coda," she drawled.

Coda instantly stiffened and scooted away, keeping his words short and clipped. "Hi, Nellie.

She tittered. "Whatcha doin', over here all alone? A cutie like you should be hanging out with us others."

Coda didn't meet her eyes. "I needed a bit of solitude. And I'm not alone, Mrue's with me."

Nellie looked over at the other ottermaid, who met her eyes with a level glower. Nellie acted as if she'd just barely noticed Mrue was there, her voice less sickeningly sweet when she muttered, "Oh. Well." Then she brightened, grinning at Coda and trying to get him to meet her eyes. "Play me a song, Coda." She fluttered her eyelashes. "I just love when you play."

Coda finally sent her a narrow-eyed glance, his irritation slipping from behind his gentlebeastly demeanor. He thought up a song, then began rigorously strumming.
'So nah nah Honey, I'm good,
I could have another but I probably should not.
I've got somebody at home, and if I stay I might not leave alone.
No, honey, I'm good,
I could have another but I probably should not.
I've got to bid you adieu,
To another I will stay true.'

Finishing the song, he grinned at Nellie. "Sorry, miss, but I'm taken."

Red in the face, lips puckered like she'd just sucked a lemon, Nellie harrumphed, stood and flounced away. Mrue watched her go, then eyed Coda quizzically. "Taken? By who?"

Coda strummed a chord, sighing as if he'd been struck in the head by love. "A fair, lovely Lady has won my heart, and she will forever hold it in her gentle paws. For lo, there is no creature lovelier, kindlier, sweeter, gentlier-"

"'Gentlier' isn't a word," Mrue interuppted.

Coda continued as if she hadn't spoken. "More beautiful, more charming, more caring or more thoughtful than my Lady."

Mrue chuckled. "She sounds near perfect. But is she, say, hardworking? Patient? Strong of body and heart? Is she smart?"

"All that and more. But nay, she's not eternally patient. But, oh! How adorably scary is she when she's frustrated or flustered. When she smiles, the sun dims its light, and her laugh is as melodious as running water. And when she sings, ahhhh, even the sweetest voiced birds silence themselves in shame."

Mrue rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Come on, Coda. I know you don't have a lady."

Coda stopped strumming. "Okay, technically we're not together, but I still love her."

"Does she know?"

Coda locked eyes with Mrue. After a moment, he shook his head. "No... I don't think she does."

"Hoi, Mrue!" The ottermaid and Coda looked over to see Kale, Rhea, and Nellie standing together, the former two waving her over. Mrue flashed Coda a small smile. "You should probably tell your 'Lady' you love hrr. See ya!"

She trotted over to the three otters. "What's up?"

Kale motioned to a six large earthenware pitchers by his footpaws. "We need these filled with water. Would you three mind getting it?"

Rhea and Mrue reached for two pitchers each. "Sure."

Nellie crossed her arms and huffed. "I don't see why we have to do it."

"Oh, come on, Nellie'" Mrue began, "It's not like you're-"

Kale held up a paw to stop Mrue, then calmly explained to Nellie, "Rucci wants to have a meeting with the Leaders, or Kelp, Iona, and I would do it ourselves. Also," he grinned, "you're the youngest otters. While you're at the river you can swim and have some fun. But make sure you get the water back before lunch."

Nellie grumbled and picked up the last two pitchers, whining, "They're heavy!"

"You'll grow some muscle carrying them, then." Mrue replied. Then she and Rhea started walking out of the camp. Rhea started simging, voice melodic and even; Mrue quietly joined in.

'Till I'm grown,

Till I'm grown,

I must go to fetch the water,

Til the day that I am grown...'

It was a long walk to the river, and soon they were out of eyesight and earshot of the camp. The river was wide, coursing lazily by on its winding way to the sea. The forest and fLora around it was greener, more abundant. Nellie spied a clump of berry bushes down the bank. She set down her pitchers and walked off, plumping herself down in front of the bushes and stuffing her face. Rhea and Mrue ignored her loud smacking and chewing noises, filling up both their pitchers and hers. Mrue put the lid on her last pitcher, then stepped into the slow-moving current, using one paw to hold her simple skirts above the water. With the other psw, she splashed water at Rhea. "C'mon, Rhea, the water's fine!"

Rhea filled her last pitcher and set it aside. Then, from the safety of the riverbank, she raised her skirts and dipped a footpaws in. She quickly brought her footpaw back to the grass. "It's cold."

Mrue smiled and closed her eyes, tilting her head back in delight. "It feels great on worn-out, hurting feet. Just step into the shallows."

Rhea sighed and glanced at the water. She raised her skirts, stepped into the water, and sat on the bank. Mrue coaxed, "A little farther, Rhea."

"I'm fine right here."

"I promise the water doesn't reach even knee-deep until you're five feet from the bank."

Rhea scowled in frustration. "Mrue, you know I can't swim."

Down the bank, Nellie let out a high peal of giggles. "I still find that funny. An otter who can't swim!"

Rhea sighed and looked at her submerged footpaws. "I know. I'm pathetic."

Mrue left off glaring at Nellie to slosh over to Rhea. "You're not pathetic. You weren't ever taught how to swim." She took the other ottermaid's paws and pulled her to her footpaws. "You helped me when I fainted, so I'll help you. I'll teach you how to swim."

"Really?"

"Yes. You've got to come out deeper though."

"Well..." Rhea looked anxiously at the deeper water. "Okay."

Mrue grinned. "I promise you won't drown. I'm a lifeguard, trained and tested. Remember?"

That made Rhea relax a little. Nellie left the berry bushes and plopped herself on the bank closer to them., sniffing, "I'm a lifeguard, too. A better one than you are."

Mrue ignored the jibe and challenged, "Then get in the water and help me teach Rhea."

"I don't want to get my dress wet," Nellie whined. "I'll stay on the bank and watch."

Mrue shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"She's got a point, about wet dresses." Rhea interuppted. "Why don't we just wear our underclothes, and then we can wear dry dresses the rest of the day?"

"Alright." Mrue and Rhea slipped out of their dresses, revealing their black underclothes; one piece suits, going from thick shoulder straps and splitting into leg holes that reached to their knees. They draped their over-clothes on tree branches, then headed back into the water.

Mrue led Rhea into thebriver, stopping when the water lapped at their waists. For the next while, she helped the darker-furred ottermaid learn to float on her back, get used to her head in the water, worked on holding her breath, and how to kick and stroke. Finally, Mrue pronounced her ready to swim. Rhea was still nercous, clinging to Mrue's arm. "A-Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Mrue smiled soothingly. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't have you do it. Now, relax. You've got two lifeguards here with you. We won't let you drown. If we did, that would kinda be against the whole point of lifeguarding. Right, Nellie?"

No answer. The riverbank was deserted; the third ottermaid was long gone. Mrue scowled. "She may have left, but I won't. I'll be right here next to you. Just try."

Rhea hesitantly ducked under the water and started stroking and kicking. Mrue ducked under and swam beside her, giving her a thumbs-up sign and encouraging her on. When Rhea ran out of breath she broke the surface and sucked in great gulps if air. Mrue popped up beside her, whooping, "You did it, Rhea! You can swim!"

Rhea beamed, water running in rivulets down her dark fur. "I did it." She started laughing and whooping. "I did it! I did it I did it I did it! Whooooohahaha!" They frolicked a bit, then trudged out of the water.

As they pulled their dresses on over their wet underclothes, Mrue eyed the water pitchers. "Nellie only took one of her pitchers. How're we going to carry it back if we're already carrying two apiece?"

Rhea picked up her pitchers, much heavier now they were brimming with water. "Maybe she's taking two trips."

"Doubtful. I'll carry the extra." The bushes to their left rustled."Hang on, that's probably her. Nellie! Come out."

The bush rustled again, but no ottermaid stepped out. "Nellie?" Mrue called. Again, no ottermaid. Mrue walked over to the bush. "Nellie, you might as well show yourself. We know you're there-" she split the leaves apart, exposing the sneering face of a rat. "I ain't no Nellie."

Mrue stared at the rat, calling with surprising calm. "Rhea, run."

Rhea replied with a fearful quiver in her voice. "There's some over here, too."

Mrue glanced over her shoulder. Rhea was facing a ferret and another rat, both with daggers drawn. The rat in the bush pulled his own blade, taking a threatening step forward. Mrue took a backward step. He kept advancing until the two ottermaid's were back-to-back. Eyeing them evilly, he liked he licked his blade. "These'll do just fine fer th'Cheif. Take 'em."