To complement the Lucy drabble, here's another Carla drabble, very different from her last one. This one explicitly takes place during the main story itself, specifically the one week time skip between the Thornbrush and Lang arcs. Wherein we explore a less festive side of our humor-challenged hyena. Also featuring a special guest!

Now, this drabble is a bit of an experiment. Technically speaking, I only wrote about half of it. The other half was written not by Mind Jack, but by Upplet, as most of the text comes from a friendly RP between the two of us, exploring what would happen if our two most testosterone-fueled mammals should ever cross paths. After a bit of tweaking here and there, we managed to turn it into a drabble. If this style works out, you may be seeing more RP drabbles in the future, so regardless of any zoosona you may have now, consider yourselves honorary guinea pigs!

Drabble 7: Mrs. Hyenandez, Tear Down This Walrus!

The Docks

8: 53 AM

A day off really isn't what it used to be.

Carla sighed as she kicked a stray can out of her way. As a cop, it was probably her duty to pick it up, but she was off-duty, and more importantly, not in the mood. She hadn't exactly been the most upbeat individual for a while now, but being out of commission for this long meant that there was less to distract her from the cold reality of the betrayal she was actively committing just by being here.

She knew that she had already compromised the ZPD's mission beyond repair with the death of Damien Thornbrush, a death that could have well been prevented if not for her leading that bat straight to him. Sure, he was criminal scum, just like Wilde, but it didn't change the fact that she was now an accessory to murder. He wasn't even the crime lord she wanted to kill! Reynard could easily keep dangling Sanchez over her head for another two or three kills before she finally got to him. And knowing the fox, he probably would. Her manufactured, bug-ridden badge was in her motel room right now. She wasn't going to let him see her like this. Crushing the same can underfoot, Carla continued down the wooden walkway towards what used to be the boardwalk and was now just another bitter reminder. Why had she come this way? Instinct, or guilt?

Carla elected to find someplace else when she caught sight of the spectacle taking place on the end of one of the piers. Occupied as she was by her own depressed thoughts, she could hardly miss it. Who is that idiota?

A bead of sweat dripped down the walrus' snout, sifting through his bushy mustache like a filter. The cheers of the crowd were nearly mute compared to the deafening roar of the blood rushing through his body, heartbeat pounding in his eardrums. The rod of iron propped up on his chest, supported by the grip of his flippers, seemed to suck the air out of his lungs, with the pressure straining the muscles in his torso and arms alike. With two barrels full of saltwater tied to each side of the bar, and a pack of hooting porpoises cheering him on from the front, this was the kind of deadlifting experience you only ever got in the Docks.

Come on, Ivar...you must lift bar to appease friends...you must... His brain told him this, yet his body still refused to raise said bar past his chest. The blubber on his abdomen trembled as the muscles hidden behind them hardened with pressure. He tightened his grip on the bar and steadied his stance (even if two measly flippers were all he could hold himself up with), and with a grunt of triumph, jerked the weights above his head. "Graarggh!" The crowd cheered just as loud, and Ivar held the pose for the flurry of blinking cameras that followed.

Carla raised an eyebrow as firmly as he raised that bar. The giant walrus appeared to be making a complete fool of himself in front of his crowd of admirers. Well, it wasn't like she and Priscilla hadn't done similar things before. That thought almost brought a smile back to her muzzle before she remembered that they would most likely never share such a moment again. Growling, Carla stormed past the crowd, intent on passing the big tub of lard by.

With an exhale of air from between his tusks, Ivar dropped the bar to the mats that had been set up atop the wooden stage, causing the barrels tied to the sides to crack open and bust water all over the crowd. The porpoises just blinked before cheering even louder. Such was life as a marine mammal. "Yes! Haha!" Ivar raised his arms to the crowd, flexing the muscles within as hard as he could, even though he still felt like they would liquefy at any moment. "That is how it is done! No weight can hold back the strength of Ivar the Great! Haha!" More hooting and hollering ensued, and the walrus basked in the limelight.

Yet, as the stage master, a portly sea lion with a scruffy mane of bristling fur, came up with a microphone, Ivar was admittedly relieved to be able to take a back seat. "Alright, folks, there ya have it! The Docks' Annual Strongmammal Competition has a winner - Ivar Obdenberg!" he decreed, coaxing Ivar to flex some more, even in spite of his aching muscles. "As custom with the competition, any mammal from the crowd can have the chance to take some glory of their own in a wrestling match against the victor!" he went on, waving his flippers to the crowd. Even Ivar wasn't sure where that tradition had originated, but given the fact that marine mammals were infamous for boisterousness and hard bodily contact, it wasn't a surprising rule to hear of. "So, who's it gonna be?"

The cheers of the crowd suddenly faded into nervous chuckling. "Anyone?" the stage master asked, scanning the crowd. It was then that his beady eyes locked onto the form of a large female hyena pacing down the other side of the boardwalk, her eyes already trained on the competition. Clearly not a regular at the Docks. A sneer sprouted on the stage master's flabby muzzle. "What about you, Miss?" he called out, pointing to the hyena. The eyes of all the porpoises turned to stare her down.

Carla blinked, already regretting coming this way. Now this, she was really not in the mood for.

Then again...I wanted a distraction, didn't I? And she knew from experience that nothing put her in a better mood than a good wrestling match. Especially when she won, and against this blowhard, she didn't see much trouble doing just that. It might actually be kinda fun. "Alright, I'm game," she said, cracking her knuckles and her neck as she stepped forward. "Just don't take this too personally, señor. I've got some issues to work out."

The stage master beckoned her forward to the platform, presenting the hulking form of Ivar standing proud on the other side of the mat. The walrus slammed his meaty fists together, sending droplets of water squirting out from between his webbed knuckles. "A challenger!" he thundered. "Ivar will smash hyena into pancake! Mmm...pancakes..." His hazy yellow eyes refocused and he cleared his throat. "Come! We will finish this quickly, so Ivar can go and get breakfast at his favorite bar!"

She rolled her eyes. This guy could rival El Orgullo himself in sheer obnoxiousness. Now to see if he was any better at putting his money where his mouth was. "Whatever." She casually gripped the ropes and flung herself into the ring with no effort. Carla was in her element now, and glared at the walrus defiantly. "I'll gladly butter your batter before you go." A few members of the audience snickered for reasons she didn't understand.

"Gahaha!" Ivar guffawed. "So little hyena can dish insults too! Let's see if she can dish out a serving of pain to go with it!" The walrus planted himself on the other side of the ring, leaning forward with his top heavy body in the traditional wrestling ready pose. Past all the bravado, Ivar was doing his best to size up his opponent. She may have been only half his size, and likely a fraction of his weight, but her body was rippling with a surprising amount of muscle, and she carried herself with an aura of confidence that could only have been gained through experience. Something told Ivar that this little hyena would be a more formidable opponent than he first thought. But he had no intention of giving up just yet, and as the stage master hopped up to the side of the platform to serve as referee, Ivar snorted through his nostrils, ejecting out a stream of milky water. He was ready.

As Carla watched the walrus look her over, she realized that she may have underestimated him as well. There was actually some brains behind that big showing of brawn. But she could be pretty clever too. Or at least she liked to think so, and would gladly pulverize anyone who didn't.

"Let the match begin!" the sea lion announced.

As soon as the metaphorical bell rang, Carla rushed right at Ivar. But it was only a feint, to see how he would react.

With a preference for boxing and fisticuffs, Ivar was tempted to bring down his muscular flippers atop the advancing hyena, but knew that move wouldn't fly with the referee. If he wanted to win, he had to do it the right way - the wrestler's way. With a watery growl, he stepped forward and threw his arms out towards her, hoping to grab his foe's shoulders and put her into a lock. He knew that he would have the advantage closer to the ground, thanks to his short legs, but also knew that if his top-heaviness was taken advantage of, he may well be knocked over into a position that would render him defenseless. Putting the hyena into a forward lock and then bringing her to the mat, where his weight would win out, was the best strategy he could come up with.

Ivar's meaty fists grabbed her shoulders, the moist webs of skin between his fingers wrapping around her clavicle like a cape. "Down to ground, dog! Ivar says sit!" the walrus roared before shifting his weight forward and trying to shove the hyena to the mat.

Good move. She was half-expecting him to just throw a punch. The walrus' strategy seemed easy enough to work out, using his greater weight against her for a quick pin. Of course, he didn't realize that she was used to wrestling far above her weight class, to say nothing of her mate. "I'm more closely related to cats, actually. Common misconception." Grabbing onto his arms, Carla slipped under his massive girth, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold her as well if he had to bend over. She then pushed back up and shoved him in the side, breaking the hold and sending him stumbling a few feet away.

Ivar leaned back, trying hard not to topple over. Grunting with surprise, he stomped down like a sumo wrestler as he readjusted his balance. He huffed a few times, taking in several quick breaths of oxygen while he still could. "You are strong!" the walrus bellowed. "But Ivar is stronger!" Without further hesitation, he gathered the biggest burst of energy that his flabby body could muster and then rushed forward, throwing his weight out and wrapping his upper body around the hyena's shoulders. His arms slipped around her sides and gripped against her stomach, and with a heaving grunt, he lifted her up a few feet off the ground before dropping her onto the mat, where she would be the most exposed. He bent down on his knees and tried putting her into a headlock.

Mierde, this guy was fast despite his size. He could hit pretty hard too. It wasn't often that anyone could get ahold of her so easily. But La Mala Perra was not one to give in either. Sensing that he was going for a headlock, Carla beat him to the punch by rocking her own thick skull back into his chin. The sudden counterattack was enough for her to kick out from under him and shift the balance, so that now she had him in a headlock, both her arms and legs wrapped around his neck.

"Grk!" Ivar choked. Even despite his superior size and weight, sheer skill could clearly be used to beat him. It reminded him all too much of that time that little bunny had beaten him by tricking him into impaling his precious tusks into the floorboards of a ring.

At the thought of his tusks, an idea suddenly reached him. Instead of trying to maneuver his way out of the headlock, Ivar simply tilted his chin back, causing his tusks to pry the hyena's arms off of his neck like an ivory crowbar. As soon as her grip on his throat was released, Ivar whirled around as fast as he could, grabbing one of the hyena's arms, pulling it around her shoulder, and then pushing down on her opposing shoulder with his other flipper, driving her to the mat, where her face pressed into the ground. He managed to put her into a solid front facing arm-bar. The crowd of seals cheered with delight. "Give up!" Ivar ordered. "Or arm snap like twig!"

"Why...you...uurgh!" Carla strained against the walrus for a bit, but it occurred to her that she had underestimated him fatally this time. Perhaps because she was so used to El Orgullo, that maneuver with his tusks had completely caught her off-guard and now she was paying the price. She didn't want to concede, and maybe she still could've found a way to win this if she were in a better mood, but it wasn't worth the risk of losing an arm. Not for Priscilla's sake. "...Fine, you win! Just get the hell off me!"

The moment the words left the hyena's mouth, the stage master raised his flippers to the air with gusto. "Time! That's it! The winner is Ivar Obdenberg!" he shouted out to the crowd, which immediately uproared with a chorus of watery hooting and wet slapping noises. Ivar chuckled softly, and released his hold on his opponent's arm, allowing her to catch her breath while he gave a thumbs-up to the crowd for another round of pictures. Once the flurry of flashing lights dissipated, the walrus leaned down with a sigh, and extended a meaty flipper to the hyena panting on the ground. "You did well, little hyena. You have Ivar's respect."

"Consider yourself lucky I didn't get the chance to use any of my signature moves," she muttered. She was a bit of a sore loser, but not enough to turn down the offered assistance. She took Ivar's flipper and hoisted herself back up, brushing herself off. "You were pretty good yourself though. You're a lot tougher than the meatheads I usually have to contend with. A lot smarter too."

A laugh escaped Ivar's tusked maw. He thumped his chest with his fist. "Yes, ten centimeters of blubber makes Ivar tough, and keeps him warm!" His head tilted to the side. "You have great skill, and you say you have fights with meatheads before? You must be wrestler of professional level!

She smirked. "You could say that. Not something I want to get into out here in the crowd though." She gestured to the audience of seals still barking and clapping behind them. "But if you don't mind some company at that breakfast place of yours, I might just tell you more there." What the holy infierno was she doing? Distracting herself alright. At least, that's what she told herself.

"Agreed! Regular intake of protein is necessary for building brawny body, and Ivar needs evermore!" He waved his flipper toward the other side of the boardwalk, pointing to a small path that meandered farther down the saltwater canal. "Come. Ivar will treat you to breakfast of champions!"

Carla actually smiled. Maybe this day wasn't turning out so poorly after all. She'd found a worthy new adversary and now she was getting free food. She was glad Reynard wasn't able to see this or she was sure he would ruin it somehow. "Lead the way."

The Salty Spitoon

9: 12 AM

Together, the two mammals paced deeper into the heart of the Docks, where the buildings stood tall and wide with rickety boards, and the scent of salt and seaweed was thick within the air. They soon reached a large restaurant perched atop dock poles, hovering above the water. The words "How tough are ya?" were alit with neon blue lights on the building's side.

After dealing with the waiters, Ivar and his new hyena friend seated themselves in a large booth in the corner of the eatery. Carla's side of the booth was a bit too large for her, but that came as a relief compared to eating out with the familia. Ivar crashed into his side with an exhale of indulgence, his bushy mustache twitching as the air from his lungs blew through it. "So, where did you learn such formidable fighting skills?" he asked.

"Let me answer your question with a question: how familiar are you with Lucha Libre?"

Ivar laughed like a delighted child. "Oh yes, Ivar has heard great stories of Lucha Libre! Masked heroes of Sahara Square who fight for honor and glory, like El Orgullo, La Niñita, and..." A deep and watery gasp broke through Ivar's words, and he brought his flippers to his muzzle. He pointed a single webbed finger at her in disbelief, having finally put the puzzle pieces together.

For such a tough adversary, his reaction was almost dorky. It brought another smile to her muzzle. "Well, I guess that saves me the trouble of explaining. Yeah, I'm La Mala Perra. Just don't say it too loudly." She looked around, making sure that no one else was watching them. "I'm kind of on hiatus at the moment."

"La Mala Per-!" Ivar shouted, but then clamped his flippers over his mouth to prevent any further words from escaping. He glanced around the room, as if making sure no one had heard him, but everyone seemed too invested in their meals to care. The walrus leaned forward slowly, keeping his yellow eyes locked on the hyena's own. "No wonder you have such skill. You are La Mala Perra! Ivar is huge fan," he whispered between a cupped flipper. "Way you suplexed El Orgullo in tournament three years ago? Ivar couldn't believe his eyes!"

She was trying to remain modest, but all the praise was starting to get to her. Carla looked away, hiding a blush. "Heh. Yeah, I guess that was pretty cool." And considering what the lion did later on, the reminder of her kicking his ass was pretty cathartic. "Like I said, you're lucky I didn't get you into a suplex yourself, heh heh."

"Ivar the Great has never been suplexed before," the walrus claimed proudly, his extra boisterous stage persona taking a momentary hold over his boisterous regular persona. "Too big for most mammals to lift," he said, thumping his chest with a balled-up flipper. "They just try to stick Ivar to ground, ever since fight with bunny went viral on ZooTube." His flabby snout briefly pursed with distaste before his usual expression returned. "Ivar would have loved to see La Mala Perra at tournament! But Ivar cannot go to Sahara Square...air makes his skin peel." He let out a bitter sigh. "Must remain here in Docks, or Tundra Town."

A bunny? That can't possibly be the same one I'm thinking of. But what other bunny could stand up to this guy? She needed to look up that ZooTube video later. "That's a shame. You certainly deserve to be there more than some mammals." Shoving her own bitterness aside, she nudged him playfully in the arm. "But hey, how about I give you my number and you can give me a call whenever you want to get your butt whupped?" she laughed. "Might even find out what it's like being suplexed."

"Gahaha!" Ivar chuckled good-naturedly. "If La Mala Perra can manage to lift Ivar even two inches off of ground, he will pay her hospital bill for dislocated vertebrae." His laughter subsided as he let out a sigh of indulgence. "Yes, Ivar will take phone number."

"Glad to hear it." She ripped off a piece of napkin and wrote her cell number down on it, then slid it back. "I could use something to take my mind off of...current events anyway." She looked away again, this time out of shame.

Ivar's small head tilted to the side, causing his tusks to swish through the air like blades. "You seem distressed. What is wrong?"

She sighed. "...You've been following Lucha, right? So you must know what happened to my old partner, La Niñita." Carla wasn't sure if she really wanted to talk about this, but it didn't matter. The words kept spilling out regardless. "At least, you heard the version Sanchez wanted you to hear. A freak training accident, right?" She looked at him pointedly, seeing the surprise on his face. "But the truth is, Priscilla was crippled deliberately. By El Orgullo, under Sanchez's orders."

"That is horrible!" The walrus slammed a meaty fist down on the table, nearly breaking it in half. "Ivar would have strong words with mammals responsible!" His anger quickly faded as he took note of the hyena's dejected expression. He exhaled softly from his fleshy nostrils. "If you know this, why do you not go to ZPD? Make mammals responsible pay for crimes?"

She let out a humorless laugh. "Well, that's the thing. I already have. Remember when I said I'm on hiatus? That's because I'm now Carla Hyenandez, ZPD officer." She reached into her jeans for a badge she remembered too late wasn't there. "You'll have to take my word for it. But that's the plan. Use my new position to put the hurt on Sanchez and El Orgullo." She didn't feel much better letting that all out. Of course, that wasn't what was truly bothering her in the first place, and she couldn't tell that to anyone. It was less like letting the floodgates spill open and more like just letting a small stream trickle out.

Ivar scratched at his chin. "You will spearhead investigation to bring down bad guys? Ivar approves!" he exclaimed, slapping the table with a flipper.

"That's the plan anyway," she said, managing a slight smile again just through this mammal's sheer enthusiasm. It was contagious. To think, fans used to say the same about her manic laughter, which often echoed throughout the entire room after a win.

"La Niñita will be avenged and La Mala Perra will return to ring as hero!"

She flinched. "I don't know about a hero…"

"La Mala Perra will be hero to herself and her partner," Ivar said in a surprisingly soft voice. "That is what matters most."

Carla was taken aback by the shift in tone. "You might be right." At least about Priscilla. Even if her mate never found out what she had to do to get her revenge, Carla wasn't sure she could ever forgive herself.

"Ivar is right," the walrus insisted. "He has learned much from years of boxing and competition. Performing for crowds, hurting others for entertainment..." He trailed off, eyes slinking to the side. "Ivar has learned that through pain and glory, mammals will hate you. Mammals will want to make you hurt." He lifted his flippers and stared down at them as though they were weapons he could never be free of. "But if Ivar does what must be done, does that make him bad mammal?" His gaze lifted and locked with Carla's. "No. It makes Ivar hero to himself and his supporters. You too will be hero - Hero to partner for bringing justice. If not hero to her, than hero to yourself for doing right thing, even if it came through pain and glory."

This poor guy. She could tell how much he was trying to help her, and hear the sincerity in his words, but he was lacking critical information. Information that complicated this issue significantly more than he made it out to be. Carla was no hero. She could never be a hero after betraying her friends and family, no matter the reason. But she wasn't going to express that, for it would only make Ivar continue his futile efforts to cheer her up.

Actually...they weren't entirely futile. To her own surprise, she did feel a little better. With Ivar's tremendous spirit and livelihood, it was hard not to. As a reward for his tenacity, she gave him what he wanted, laughing and smiling with glee. "Alright then. If you're going to be so insistent about it, maybe I will be a hero!"

Ivar's muzzle broke with a grin. "That is spirit! La Mala Perra will be victorious!" He waved down a waiter, a portly elephant seal, that promptly approached the table with notepad in flipper. "But no great victory can be achieved without good protein!" Once the waiter reached the table, Ivar slapped his fist on their shoulder. "Yuri! You are here! Your restaurant has grown much in past few months."

The elephant seal smiled. "It sure has. We just got a new shipment of sea urchin cores from a new seller: a fox out in Savanna Central. Great price too! We can get you some, if you'd like."

"Ivar will take his usual - Porridge with scallops." He then turned toward Carla. "What will you take?"

Honestly, with everything else going through her mind at the time, she hadn't even thought about her choice of meal. "Uh...smoked trout. And crab legs on the side."

Yuri wrote down their orders before parting. "Good choice. Though Ivar prefers porridge with scallops," he muttered before crossing his arms and leaning forward. "So what will La Mala Perra do once she has won her great victory and silly Sanchez is defeated?"

Go to jail probably. "Get back in the ring probably. If there's anything tonight's match helped me realize, it's that I'm just not satisfied unless I'm slamming someone's face into the floor. It's probably what my family would want too." Shame they'll never see it.

Ivar laughed, clapping his flippers together excitedly. "La Mala Perra will return to ring? Awesome! Ivar would love to see next fight on television!"

"I'm sure it'll really be something." When I get convicted of conspiracy and murder. She really needed to take her mind off of this. "Hey...I've talked a lot about myself so far, but what about you? What's your story, big guy?"

"Hmm..." The walrus stroked his chin. "Ivar was born in West Philadolphia - Large neighborhood here in Docks - And grew up watching fighting on television! All kinds of fighting! I look to mother and say, Ivar wants to do that! Then she say, Ivar will do that. So Ivar did! Now Ivar lives in Tundra Town, and competes there, and here in Docks too, for honor and glory." He pumped a fist with determination.

It took her a second to realize that he was finished. To be fair, she couldn't see herself describing her own upbringing in much more detail. Parents killed, adopted by rats, raised by rats, married a rat. "Sounds like you have some pretty clear goals. I like that. Good that your familia was supportive too." She paused, realizing how that sounded. "Don't get me wrong, so was mine...after a while. Though I'm pretty sure they were more worried about Priscilla."

"Family will do what is best for family. That is what makes them so," Ivar said as he leaned back in his booth, the leathery texture of the seating squeaking beneath his massive weight. "Priscilla is partner, La Niñita, yes? You say partner was crippled. Family would be worried for good reason. But La Mala Perra will avenge her and earn family's approval as great hero!"

No I won't, no I won't, no I won't! Right when she thought they were moving past this topic, it reared its ugly head again. She couldn't take it anymore. The guilt was overpowering already and this oblivious walrus was only making it worse. "STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

Panting with exertion, Carla didn't realize just how loud her outburst had been until she noticed the entire restaurant staring at her. So much for not drawing attention. Ashamed, she bit her lip and stared down at the floor, unwilling to look Ivar in the eye, or let him see how close she was to tears. "L-Lo siento. I just...please, stop talking about this. I'm not a hero. I'm not..." And she had failed. Now she was crying. Hijo de puta.

The hyena's outburst had admittedly fazed the walrus. But it only took moments for his bushy eyebrows to sink back down, and for his surprise to leave him. He could tell that Carla was hiding something, and that something was eating away at her like frostbite. It was unfortunate that it had only taken him till now to realize just how severe it was.

One of Ivar's flippers pushed itself forward and took Carla's paw in its grasp. She resisted for a moment, nearly pulling away, before Ivar tightened his grip, and she subsequently relaxed her arm. Ivar had been told before that the chill of his skin was soothing, like an ice pack. He hoped this gesture would be a calming one. He may have been boisterous, but he was nothing if not empathetic too. "Ivar has met mammals who see themselves as burden to others, and hide pain behind smile. He knows of narwhal here in Docks who spends all his time by himself, drinking and smoking on boat. No family. Only Ivar is his friend. Narwhal always calls Ivar mean things, but Ivar is still narwhal's friend because he knows that he needs him, and appreciates him, even if he doesn't show it. Ivar sees same darkness in you."

He hesitated, nearly addressing the hyena by her stage name again. "Carla," the walrus continued. "He sees same draining parasite, like barnacle growing on boardwalk. Carla tries to hide pain inside, but you must not let pain become part of you." His grip tightened on her arm. "Ivar is sorry for calling you hero. You may not see yourself as one, Carla, but you are hero to Ivar."

It was so touching that she couldn't possibly stay mad. She gripped his flipper tightly (he was right, it was a bit soothing) and managed a weak smile, one last tear rolling down her cheek. He wasn't the only one who had been oblivious. Even if he barely knew her, the real her anyway, Ivar was willing to burden himself with her pain and be her friend just because he was that good of a mammal. It made her almost envious. "Gracias, Ivar. Gracias. I suppose...being your hero is good enough for me."

A smile pulled on Ivar's muzzle. He gingerly held her paw for as long as he had to. "You are good mammal, Carla. Ivar is glad he met you." The walrus' eyes flickered over to Yuri as the waiter set two plates of food down on their table and walked off without a word. "Now let us eat. Smoked trout is good for replenishing sodium," he said with a smile, taking note of the glistening pathways shining on her cheeks.

"Urk!" Carla hurriedly wiped away the rest of her tears, the moment officially over and her natural disdain of all things mushy reasserting itself. "Yes! Let's!" Overcompensating just a bit, Carla attempted to sink her teeth right into the heated fish and tear a big chunk out. She succeeded, but not without scalding her mouth on the freshly-cooked meal. This ended up making her eyes water even further as she beat a paw against the table, struggling for a few seconds until she got it down. She wearily shot Ivar a thumbs-up like nothing had happened.

The walrus threw his head back and laughed with vigor. "See? You eat well, Carla! Feel better very soon. Now, let Ivar show you how he eats!" the walrus said before digging one of his flippers into the bowl of porridge in front of him, which was easily the size of an adult rabbit, and used his webbed fingers like a spoon to shovel a handful of milky scallops into his mouth. His bushy mustache dripped with white liquid, and he gave a thumbs-up of his own, knuckles clanking against Carla's like a fist-bump.

Carla gladly returned the gesture. She couldn't help but laugh, the only surefire way to make her feel better. Her family had figured out as much long ago and used it to great (and often torturous) effect. Now, even after everything that had happened, Ivar and his own clownish antics continued to achieve a similar result. It was incredible that any one mammal could make her feel like this again. Feeling a little playful, she discreetly slid her fork under the flesh of her smoked trout, and with a small flick, sent a chunk of it flying into Ivar's mustache as well. This made her laugh even harder.

The only reaction Ivar had to Carla's food attack was a single blink. Without words, he grabbed a handful of porridge from his bowl before throwing it at Carla's head, laughing with delight as it splat against her face, nearly drenching it entirely. "Take that!" he thundered.

Carla just sat there for a few seconds, letting the porridge drip off of her face. She saw the challenging look in his eyes and knew that she had truly found another equal, just like Priscilla. For the sake of not getting him kicked out of his favorite restaurant, she decided to forgo her first instinct to start a full-scale food fight and settled for a tie, wiping the foodstuff up calmly with a napkin. "Touché."

Ivar looked down into his porridge, grumbling beneath his breath. "Carla is afraid," he taunted.

Welp. He asked for it. Carla casually moved her arms below the table, and proceeded to flip its entire contents onto Ivar's head.

Ivar's yelp was cut off as the porridge bowl sunk into his face, and the salmon from Carla's breakfast blasted into pieces across his chest as the table smushed into him. The walrus fell out of his booth, ripped the bowl of porridge from his face and then whirled around on Carla, staring her down with yellow eyes glowing through a mask of watery oatmeal and scallops. "Round two, then!" he announced as he grabbed a plateful of donuts from a passing waiter and then tossed them all straight at his opponent.

From across the diner, Yuri's voice rang out, "Ivar, not again!"

Carla dove to the floor to avoid the round and fluffy projectiles. She ran to another food cart, shoving her arms into a tank of water and snatching up a pair of live lobsters, wielding them like combat knives as she leapt in for another attack. She already knew that this battle would be long and bloody, but there could only be one winner. This may not have been a long-term solution to her problem, but boy did it make for one hell of a distraction.

Usually, when two big characters fight like this in a crossover, there's never a clear winner. Here there was, but to be fair, Carla was pretty off her game. :P (Let the debate commence!)

But the true essence of this meetup was to find someone who could break through Carla's hard shell and show her more vulnerable side. Due to being a twist and all, the true extent of what this guilt was doing to her never really came up before the reveal. Now you get to see how screwed up she's been this whole time! Fun, right?

Again, this drabble was a bit of an experiment. In a medium like this, we have a bit more freedom to do stuff like this as opposed to the main story. But should we? Let us know what you think.

Ivar Obdenberg comes from When Instinct Falls and belongs to Upplet. Also note, the narwhal Ivar mentions is a character from his own story and has nothing to do with our narwhal.