He had reached the edge of a river he hadn’t encountered before.
The only thing to do was to cross it, and that meant jumping. It was far too wide and deep to reach across, and the storm and winds were making it much too fast to walk through. But he wasn’t such a good jumper anymore, not after everything he had been through and especially not after his withdrawal symptoms had wrecked his body. Still, he had to.
He adjusted position. He lifted his forelegs off the ground. Like a spring, his back legs propelled him, pushing him upward into the air.
His forelegs went forward. He angled himself again, paws downward. His back legs began to recoil, curving back towards his torso.
Beautifully, gracefully, he dove into the water.
‘I’m a dolphin,’ he thought. ‘A glorious dolphin.’
‘You’re dying, you fucking moron,’ Cornflower interjected.