Another prompt courtesy of Madison Woods. As always, the image this is based on and tons of other great writing through the link.
Owl and Raccoon were down on the riverbank skipping stones. Owl’s father had roused them from bed moments before, ordering them down here to look for worms and crickets.
They prodded the soft muck of the shore, lifted a few fallen logs and then gave up.
“He never catches anything anyway,” Owl said, slinging a stone. “Five.”
Raccoon tossed his rock.
“Crap, just three,” he said. “Why don’t you ever go with him?”
Owl shrugged and side-armed another. It came out crooked, splashed and sunk. They stopped throwing stones, watched the ripples grow out and felt something neither could name.