Flots lay floating on his back, webbed paws giving the occasional kick needed to keep near the stilt-village. Most otters lived on floating barges, but this village stood on stilts because non-otters expected trading posts to stay put. Near the swampy shore, where the current walked instead of running, he drifted among the cattails. Sunlight warmed his nude body, baking his wet fur. The rustle of cottonwoods and the scent of fish stew worked calm deep into his soul.
The soft padding of paws on the wood deck drew his attention. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a Corgi, her emerald eyes glimmering in the dappled light as she dipped tentative paws into the stream. A wiggle, a jostle of those shapely hips, and she sploshed into the thigh-high water. He turned to get a better look at her and sputtered in shock.
Instead of layered robes and flowing dresses, Gwen wore a simple top and bottom. Her white stomach gleamed, seen by him for the first time outside the dark of bedsheets and the hurry of whimpered desire.
"Clearly, this was not designed for a Corgi figure." She adjusted the waist, thin fabric stretched over her curvaceous rump. "They had to modify the tail clasp." Big bashful ears dipped as she struggled not to hide behind her paws. "Does it look all right?"
Flots almost sank.
Gwen giggled against her paw. "Umm, is that a yes?"
The otter righted himself and ruddered over. "I approve! In fact, I'm going to stay in the river for a while...unless you want everybody seeing my approval." He smiled with a wink that would make a red fox blush.