Two Idiots Honeymoon on a Beach

Furiet and Basil unpacked their saddlebags at the camp just outside of Skipper's Sound. The area was bustling with activity, given that with the end of the Festival of the Sun, the beach would close up again. All sorts of folks came and went through this camp, bags of seashells on their backs, hawking fish, sharing meals from a successful hunt. The scent of saltspray was strong, even the few miles offshore that they were, and Basil wrinkled his nose.

"Remind me again why we're here when we both hate water to death. Like, seriously. If we wanted to go on vacation we could have gone to Sundew or something. This just seems miserable."

Furiet flashed a doggy grin. "Business opportunities. Not like we're getting in the water."

"Okay, whenever you say business opportunities I get the feeling you're going to ask me to make a scene and then you're going to steal everyone's shit, so maybe don't do that." When Furiet started pouting, Basil knew he was on the right track. Gods damn his ridiculous datemate. "Oh, come on! We came all the way out here so you could steal from new people?" His voice was probably just a little too loud for that statement, and a few dourin skirted around them, giving them strange looks.

"No! Not just for that." They shook their head. "Also so I could find you cool shit on the beach while the tide isn't in! There's a lot of shinies for the pile around here. You saw Kendra's shells."

Yeah, that was true. Before they left, Kendra had encouraged the two of them to have a good time, and she'd broken out some shells from a trip to the beach she'd once taken. Some of them had looked like they were inlaid with precious jewels. Not like any sort of shells Basil had ever seen before, but then again? He made it a point to stay away from any large bodies of water, in general. There weren't a lot of seashells near the little creeks and ponds he typically visited for a bath.

Basil snorted heavy through his nose. "Yeah, alright. Unique stuff to take home. I'll buy it. If we find anything purple it's going on my shelves, though."

"Nice!" Furiet borked, and bounded off toward the beach.

It was a long walk, and when wet sand finally squished between Basil's toes, he shuddered. The ocean was vast in front of him, and even Furiet slowed down and skirted the edge of the beach for a moment. The body of water was more massive than either of them had imagined, the waves more fierce, the fish smell more intense. "Okay, evidence suggests this is way more enormous than I ever wanted it to be and also terrifying. Are you sure hanging around here is a good idea?"

Furiet licked their chops and shook out their coat to get rid of the bristling at their hackles. "Just don't go in the water," they said, and then kicked up a spray of sand in Basil's face as they ran away, across the length of Skipper's Sound. There was a lot of ground to cover, and they only had so many days here. Basil followed after at a much slower rate after he had cleaned the sand off his muzzle, only managing to even begin to keep up by the grace of his overlong legs. 'Grace,' of course, in air quotes, because Basil was anything but graceful.

"Where are you going, even?" he called out ahead of him some. "We barely even know where we are!"

"That's kind of the point! We're looking for shit, Basil, try to keep up!"

"We could have like, I don't know, asked someone for advice before we just ran all the way out here!"

Furiet wheeled around and their tongue lolled out of their mouth. "Nope. Nah. Asking for help is for squares. We're going to find something cool and it's going to be all ours. Like..." and they reached down and scooped something out of the sand with their muzzle, brandishing it at Basil. It was a weird starfish, all suckers and vivid blues.

"What the hell," Basil replied, flat. "Why does it look like that, even."

"I don't know, you're the smart one. You tell me."

"I haven't read any books on weird ocean animals!"

"Wow! And you knew we were coming to the ocean and everything. How could you have been so blind. Your research, so faulty. One of us is going to get stung by a jellyfish and we're going to have to piss on it because we won't know any better."

"Goddammit." Basil finally caught up completely and nudged the starfish out of Furiet's mouth. "We're not going in the water, remember. If you get stung by a jellyfish, I'm not saving you."

"What. No? What sort of boyfriend wouldn't save his datemate from a jellyfish sting?" They resumed walking, both of them, not running this time.

"The kind who doesn't want to pee on them. Like. No. Furiet I'm not doing that. At all."

"I can't believe you don't love me enough to pee on me."

"Furiet for the love of the gods I will throw you into the ocean." Basil sounded way too fond for that sort of threat.

Furiet grinned. "You're not strong enough to throw me into the ocean. You'd try to pick me up and I'd break your spine from the weight. Poor Basil. Rest in pieces. He washed up with the driftwood."

"You're actually the worst, you know that?" But he leaned over and bumped into them affectionately. "Besides, you wouldn't let my broken twig body fall into the ocean. You'd drag it back to camp with you to make a scene. Probably get arrested. The whole kit and caboodle."

"You know me way too well, it's creepy." They stayed pressed together. It was super awkward, given that Basil was all leg and Furiet was all chub, but they laughed their way down the beach while they kept an eye out for anything particularly interesting. Mostly, they just distracted each other.