"Why on earth would anyone build a village so close to a river?" Medb questioned, peering over the edge of their small wooden dock. Her eyes squinted in the bright sunlight reflecting off the water's surface.
Scáthach, lounging on a nearby bench, shaded her eyes with one hand and sighed. "They've done it for centuries, love. It's fertile land, good for farming," she replied, not looking up from her book.
"But what about the crocodiles?" Medb pointed out, her voice rising in pitch.
Scáthach glanced over the top of her book. "They're more afraid of us than we are of them," she said, her tone one of mild amusement.
Medb rolled her eyes and leaned against the railing. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, "until one decides to have you for lunch."
The air had the scent of algae and mud. In the distance, the lazy river stretched out like a serpent, surrounded by tall grasses that swayed in the breeze. The quiet was only broken by the occasional splash of a fish jumping and the distant cries of birds.
Medb's gaze drifted to the tool shed beside the house. A shovel caught her eye, gleaming under the sun. An idea began to form, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "I've got a better way to deal with those pesky reptiles," she said, pushing herself off the railing.
Scáthach looked up, one eyebrow raised. "What's that?" she asked, setting her book aside with a knowing smile.
Medb strode towards the shed, her stride purposeful. "You'll see," she said, her voice a mix of excitement and mischief.
The shovel felt surprisingly good in her hands as she marched back to the river's edge. The crocodiles, basking in the sun, didn't seem to notice her approach. Or perhaps they didn't care. Either way, it was about to get interesting.
Medb took a deep breath, raised the shovel high above her head, and brought it down with a thwack on the nearest crocodile's head. The creature's eyes snapped open, and it let out a startled yelp before sliding into the water with a splash.
Scáthach couldn't help but laugh as she watched Medb's antics. Her wife had always had a flair for the dramatic, but this was a new level of absurdity. The crocodiles, now fully aware of the danger, began to scurry away from the dock, their tails thrashing in the mud.
The sound of the shovel connecting with another scaly skull echoed through the air. Medb's laughter grew wilder with each bonk, as if she had discovered the world's most entertaining game of whack-a-mole. Crocodiles were diving into the river, their eyes wide with terror.
Scáthach stood up, shaking her head. "Medb, what are you doing?" she called out, trying to keep the amusement from her voice.
Medb looked back over her shoulder, her eyes shining with excitement. "Moving the neighborhood watch!" she shouted, before turning her attention back to the remaining crocodiles.
The scene was one of chaos and hilarity. Crocodiles darted in every direction, trying to escape the madwoman with the shovel. Medb was in her element, her laughter manic as she continued her impromptu game.
Scáthach knew she should probably stop her, but the sight was just too entertaining. Besides, it was better than the alternative - a village plagued by crocodiles with no sense of personal space.
As the last crocodile disappeared into the murky water, Medb lowered her weapon and turned to Scáthach, her chest heaving from exertion. "Told you I had a plan," she said, winking.
Scáthach facepalmed. "Oh, Medb," she said, shaking her head. "You never cease to amaze me."
Medb strutted back to the bench, the shovel swinging by her side. "It's a gift," she said, grinning from ear to ear.
The villagers, who had been watching the commotion from a safe distance, slowly began to approach, some with looks of relief, others with confusion. One brave soul stepped forward. "Thank you, stranger," he said, tipping his hat. "Those crocodiles have been a real nuisance."
Medb took a dramatic bow. "Think nothing of it," she said, flourishing the shovel. "It's what I do."
The villagers shared nervous glances. Clearly, they hadn't seen anything quite like this before. But the absence of crocodiles was a welcome change, and they weren't about to argue with success.
Scáthach couldn't hold in her laughter anymore. She stepped up to Medb and wrapped her arms around her waist. "You're going to be the talk of the village," she said, her eyes sparkling.
Medb leaned into her embrace, her grin never fading. "Good," she said. "Let them talk. They'll sleep easier tonight."
The villagers gathered around, patting Medb on the back and thanking her for her bravery. Some offered gifts of food and drink, which she graciously accepted. The atmosphere grew festive, and soon enough, someone suggested a celebration.
The rest of the day was filled with laughter and music. Medb's shovel became a makeshift instrument, and she regaled the villagers with tales of her past adventures, each more ludicrous than the last.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the village in a warm, golden light, Scáthach pulled her aside. "You know we can't stay here," she whispered.
Medb's expression sobered. "I know," she said. "But for tonight, let's enjoy the victory."
They joined hands and walked back to the house, the sound of the river and the distant splashes of the crocodiles a gentle reminder of the world outside their bubble of joy. But for now, they had earned a brief respite from the chaos that seemed to follow them wherever they went.