Duck Pond

How could anyone resist the chance to take part in a festival? Certainly not Bog, and certainly not now that his lungs were beginning to feel as clear as they had before the long night. Ambling along through the throngs of unfamiliar wolves, he was glad he'd worn his mask and left Bug at home. The frog would have been a real stick in the mud right now, if he had to guess. The raucous voice of a carnie coydog drew his attention, verdant gaze drifting towards the booth that was tended by a dark furred canine with the longest ears he'd ever seen. Catching ducks? Well, that seemed right up his alley! Gait shifting into more of a skipping trot, off he went to join the growing crowd that surrounded the duck pond.  

By the time it was his turn to try and catch one of the floating ducks, he had been caught up in the cacophony around him and nearly missed the beckoning of the carnie. With a small grunt, he plodded forwards and peered down at the idly floating toys. Would the coydog notice if he simply claimed the duck itself as his prize? It might look nice on one of the shelves in his den. Or perhaps he could tie it to a branch overhanging the banks of the swamp and leave it floating there like a docked boat. Well, better to focus on the matter at hand before getting caught up in potentially helping himself to the game pieces, right? In a flash, he lunged forward and grabbed hold of the next wooden duck that floated past. With its pockmarked and well worn head clasped tight in his jaws, he found himself wondering how many other creatures had been playing these games over the years. By the texture alone, these ducks must have seen their fair share of abuse at the teeth of predators like himself.  

Backpedaling from the edge of the pond, he tilted his head to offer the tail end of the duck to the carnie that was tending the game. What did he get?! Was it better than just taking the duck with him?!

"speech"