Owl disarmed Raccoon and advanced, his birch sabre poised high, ready to thrust the final, fatal blow, when he saw something strange along the riprap.
“Come on,” he said, sheathing his sword and crawling along the slick, sharp stones. It was a body. One foot caught in the rocks, the rest of him splayed out face down in the water. They watched as the bloated body bobbed with the waves.
The sky greyed over. The wind picked up. Owl and Raccoon moved closer together, they put their arms around each other’s shoulder and hung their heads in something like prayer.