Recovering from the awkward slip in the shallow water that had left him thoroughly drenched, Pangaea stood up. The water was still only knee-deep (which, for Pangaea, was less than a foot), but as a result of having fallen flat on his stomach, he had managed to submerge himself completely. Pangaea imagined that he must be quite ridiculous-looking, with every feather on his body dripping wet; a suspicion apparently confirmed by the muffled snickering sounds he could hear coming from Guido’s direction.
Pangaea had his back to Guido, and twisted his flexible neck around to look at him. However, he turned his head so quickly that the wet, drooping plumes on his crown swung around and slapped him in the face, covering his left eye. He emitted a small squawk of surprise, and tossed his head to dislodge his uncomfortable accidental half-blindfold. Unfortunately, his efforts resulted in the wet feathers flipping in a sideways arc over the top of his head, hitting him in his other eye. “Gaaahh!” he shrilled in frustration. This time, he used his hands to lift the feathers out of his face, gently squeezed the water out of them, and slicked them back over his nape. Turning around bodily this time, he was finally able to get a clear look at Guido, still standing on the bank, desperately struggling to hold in his laughter.
Bearing a slightly strangled-looking smirk himself, Pangaea nonchalantly acknowledged his ignominious state in his usual manner: making fun of himself before anyone else could. “Falling over, and looking ridiculous,” he said, “two things I’m very good at.”
“Sorry...I’m sorry,” Guido panted, “I shouldn’t be laughing.”
“No, go ahead; that’s slapstick for ya,” Pangaea replied, “painful and/or embarrassing things happening to somebody else. Humor’s a weird thing, innit?”
“Yeah...I guess...” Guido said. “It’s weird: for as long as I can remember, just about everyone I’ve met has told me that I was funny-looking. Thing is, since I’d never seen another one of my kind until I met you, I didn’t realize how right they were.”
“In other words, now that you’ve got another one of your species to look at as reference, you understand what they were laughing at.”
“Well...yeah,” Guido replied, sheepishly. Having gotten over his amusement at Pangaea’s situation, he changed the subject. “So, uh...what are you going to do now?”
“Well, since I’m already soaked, I might as well swim for a bit,” Pangaea replied. “I don’t really mind getting or being wet; it’s drying off that I find uncomfortable. So I might as well put it off for as long as I can. Sure you won’t join me?”
“Y–Y–Yeah, I’m sure,” Guido said, giving the water an uneasy glance.
“Well, I might stay in for a while, so I don’t mind if you leave, but first there’s something I need to do.”
“What?” Guido asked.
In response, Pangaea ran through the water towards Guido and deliberately fell forward, plowing into the water to create a miniature wave that splashed the smaller glider.
Guido spluttered in surprise. He was nowhere near as wet as Pangaea had been, but the splash had nonetheless caught him completely off-guard.
Pangaea uttered a Curly-style “n’yuk-n’yuk-n’yuk” of amused satisfaction. “Sorry,” he said as he turned to head out into the deeper water, “I couldn’t resist.”
Guido sighed. “I knew I shouldn’t have laughed at him,” he muttered.
