Water Strider – The Monksville Chronicles #68

From the waters splishing against the front shore of the Northern Wedge of Dino Island, the lone meaty claw rises again. The Mink does not know where the owner of this claw burrows, nor does he know where the crustacean keeps disappearing to, but he does know one thing: by the set of the great shine, The Mink will have a full belly and a delicious emblem to signify his claim over the keep of Dino Island.

Out of all of Monksville’s denizens who could rightly call themselves lakewalkers, The Mink is by far the most mysterious and misunderstood. His fur coat, hydrophobic and perpetually floofy, presents a deep, rich brown color which makes fertile soil appear as snow – aside from his chin, that is. The Mink’s chin is furred a pure and pristine white, like a single cloud floating in a deep azure sky. No denizens know why The Mink’s chin is white, but they fear it all the same. Almost as much as they respect it.

Neither do any of Monksville’s denizens know where The Mink came from. One autumn day during the fourth cycle after the filling of Monksville he randomly crawled out from a burrow in the center of Isla Meeney, a burrow whose mouth has since vanished without a trace. At the time, The Beast still howled forth in Monksville’s waters and, even though he just emerged from his phaseshifting burrow, The Mink immediately understood the danger of taking a dip. From the Meeney burrow’s mouth The Mink fled, skating over the shallow water like a water strider and following along the shoreline until he came upon the treacherous downslope to the Wanaque wildlands. The Mink remembers this journey very clearly, as if he took it many times, though such would be impossible; The Mink only returned to Monksville at the onset of the current cycle’s spring. He also remembers how, after crawling out of the burrow, he felt a peculiar feeling of emptiness in the mouth, as if he had forgotten to carry with him something of dire importance… or fled from something, that would be more accurate. Even now as he reminisces whilst falling into the zone and preparing for his hunt he cannot put a paw on it, but that was all a very long time ago. It hardly matters in today’s here and now, the very here and now in which The Mink crouches low, ready to strike, on the pebbly shoreline of Dino Island.

The Mink springs forth and pounces on the water moments after the crawdad pulls its claw back under. A small trail of dust is left in its place and The Mink, upon reaching the shore, strikes the shallows with his paws again. He will have that crawdad, he will eat the yummy meat from its claw and he shall display the impressive chitin at the mouth of his burrow by the end of the current shinecycle. The Mink will not relent his pursuit, even if it kills him. The Mink shall not go hungry another night. The Mink is mighty, and for that reason only, he refuses to feel the starvation that so grips the other denizens.


This has been the sixth subchapter of the fourth chapter of the book The Monksville Chronicles. Here is everything you need to know about it:

The Monksville Chronicles

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

The Hillside Commons has a Facebook page. Here’s that.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~

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