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Peter

Morning came, the Sun somehow finding its way through the window, beaming straight at Peter's face. The mustelid grumbled awake, trying to remember if he had anything special to do today. Nothing came to mind. Sitting straight, he realized he was fully clothed, boots and all. How odd. He always slept in his underwear, and he would at the very least take off his shoes if he was particularly exhausted after a day of work. He'd figure it out eventually. He stretched his arms up and wide as he yawned, noticing a faint ache in the back of his head. Tentatively touching it, Peter tried to piece things together. Did he hit himself somehow?

He looked beside his bed, which was neatly made, although he knew he tended to trash a bit in his sleep. The sight of his rifle refreshed his memory.

He grabbed it and took a hasty step towards the door. The door.

Please, door. Don't get all screwy now.

It didn't.

With a sigh of relief, Peter continued down the hall, stepping over some fallen wood chips and splinters. He reached Jale's room. The door was closed. It had a sizable jagged hole in it.

"Jale?"

No response. He opened the door. Her room was just as he had left it before. He noticed a small lantern on the floor. Picking it up, he walked up to the small counter below the room's only window. He set the lantern back on it and looked out.

CHOP

The otter became immediately alert. Wherever the sound came from, it was outside. He scanned the immediate area, noticing a bit of movement by the tool shack, which was somewhat obscured by the corner of the building. He slowly opened the window, looking down. The ladder was still there. Carefully, he clambered out the window and down the ladder, careful to not make any noise.

CHOP

He rounded the corner. He saw Jale, swinging the axe, just as she was yesterday. However, instead of chopping a log into pieces, she was hacking a hole in the door to the small shed.

"Jale?"

Jale lost her grip on the axe handle, yet again. This time though, it lodged itself firmly on the door. She turned around, initially looking very scared, but almost immediately said fear was dissipated. Below her eyes were two dark streaks thinning downwards. She must've been crying.

"Dad!"

But she was okay!

Peter hastened his pace towards Jale, which quickly proved unnecessary as the smaller otter almost leapt into his arms. Okay, she actually did leap into his arms, clinging to his neck for dear life. He held her, grateful that she was back with him.

She was okay!

...and they were alive!

He knelt down, so as not to have to support her entire body weight. As soon as Jale's feet touched the ground though, she started crying again.

"Shhhh, shhh, shhh. It's okay." he whispered as he slowly stroked the back of her head. It calmed her down somewhat, but not enough for her to stop crying. So, he just held her.

For a long couple of minutes, they stood there, holding onto each other. Jale had stopped crying, but every once in a while a small sob would be let out, with Peter trying to soothe her by squeezing her tighter and uttering phrases such as "It's okay", "I'm here", and "We're going to be fine"

Peter noticed that Jale stopped trembling.

"I'm sorry about the door."

"Oh Jale, honey, it's alright. I can fix 'em up later."

She released her iron grip from around his neck, and leaned back to look at his face.

"I- I meant about twisting it."

"What do you mean?"

Her ears were folded back like he's never seen before.

"I thought he might have gone away! And I wanted to see the place again! And- and it's all my fault! I shouldn't have tried to go back there! I'm sorry!"

She started crying again.

Peter held her close again.

She apologized again.

"I almost got taken away because I was stupid!"

"No no Jale it wasn't your fault."

"Besides, we're here now right?" he continued.

"Isn't that what matters?"

Why would she blame herself? She can't possibly think that she caused this.

Right?