(I still haven't come up with a name for this character. So for now I'm going to call him Andy until a proper name comes to mind.)
History:
Andy always knew he was a bit different from other crocodiles. Andy never had problems with being a crocodile and all that encompassed. (Kangaroo is his favorite dinner after all.) But he feels like he is missing something from his life. He is acquaintances with some of the other crocodiles, but he can't really call any one of them friends. But that is the crocodile way. The other crocodiles will sit around and help catch dinner if they know they will get a piece; but the thought of actually having a conversation and getting friendly with another crocodile? This is simply unheard of. But Andy craves a friend, to actually make a connection with someone, anyone. But he has one big problem, no one wants to be his friend. It's hard to make friends when you're 15+ feet long and full or big pointy teeth. While he is not the largest crocodile in the river, he is definitely not a salamander.
Andy is getting on in years and he becomes lonelier as the days go by. Even the most tender dinner tastes like mud and comfiest sandbar feels like rock. He has started drifting away from the other crocodiles and wandering deeper into the outback, away from his lovely river home, hoping that he'll meet someone who doesn't immediately run away from his frightening looks.
Personality:
Lonely, intimidating, honest, determined, curious, gullible, lone-wolf, sensitive, impatient, hardworking, (in progress)
Tollbooth:
The little girl giggled as she playfully ran away from him. This was the first time someone seemed happy to meet him. Even though she was running through the trees, she would stop when she got too far ahead and wait for him to waddle up, smiling as she half hid behind the eucalyptus trees. Eventually the sound of her laughter began to disappear as he waddled past the last eucalyptus tree to find a large cliff-side greeting him. He could hear the last traces of the young girl's mirth as he moved to the bottom of the cliff, as the musical sound disappearing into the unknown above him. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath and staring up at the mass of rock above him. His first thought was a moment of recognition of the girl's speed. He wasn't that far behind, but she managed to squirrel up this monumental hunk of stone in seconds flat. His second thought was a flash of sadness as he realized that his potential friend might be gone forever. He hadn't seen a human in years, and certainly not one who wanted to play with him.
He looked around to see if there was an easy way up, or a path that had been cut by years of travel by swifter animals. But no such luck. The stones seemed to have few foot or handholds, and thick sharp thistle like plants crept on either side of him and down the cliff-base. He thought about backtracking through the large trees and hopefully find another way up. But he knew that these kinds of rock formations could be huge, he had seen some large mountains and other rock formations from his river cruising. If they were large from the riverbank, then they can only be monstrous this close.
He stepped back from the bottom, sizing up the rock. He flicked his tail in frustration as he thought through his attack plan. After a minute he moved quickly towards the bottom and threw himself at the rock, his small arms and webbed feet feebly grabbed at the thin bits of extruding stone. He managed to pull up his awkward and heavy body up about a foot off the ground before the rock crumbled under his weight and he thumped to the ground, tweaking his tail. He righted himself, his embarrassment hurting more than the small kink in his tail. He shuffled farther down the rock and tried again, with the same results. He conceded defeat to the rocks, but not to the thorns next to him. He thought about returning back to the river and moving on, letting the little girl and her sweet smile grace him in his memories instead of getting to actually meet her. But that was not why he was here! He had followed her all the way here from the river, through the rough Australian terrain and tweaked his tail twice trying to get to her. He was not going to stop now!
He turned to the thistle, the spines were not too long, but definitely enough to snag even his thick hide. He looked up once more at the cliff and back at the thistle, his tail throbbing slightly, but he had made up his mind. He moved forward, using the thick plates on his back to push aside some of the thistle, his skin snagging on the sharp ends. He was able to squeeze through halfway through before the thistle began puncturing his skin, causing him to wince in pain. He had enough mass to force his way deeper, but as he strained against the thickening branches and sharpening thistles, he realized that he would be torn to pieces before this wicked bush would let him through. Realizing he had been defeated, he carefully extracted himself out of the thistle, thorns sticking in his hide like porcupine quills.
He finally backed out of the thistle, his skin plates riddle with holes and leftover spines. He sighed sadly, laying down on a warm sunny spot and trying to flick the remaining thorns out of his skin. While each one stung as they were taken out, the sadness at the thought that he would be alone for the rest of his days burned even more. After the last burr was removed, he slowly moved back to the bottom of the cliff where he first tried to climb up. He looked up at the cliff edge, so tantalizingly close, yet just out of his reach. He scratched sadly at the rock like a lost kitten then turned back towards the trees plopped to the ground. Breathing deeply, he stared back at the forest, mentally preparing himself to face his deepening loneliness. He forced himself up on his stubby legs, nose nearly dragging on the ground in sadness. But that was when he saw something strange on the ground.
A stick was lying next to a strange mark on the ground. He turned his head to the side to see the mark better. It was clearly drawn on purpose, there was no way that this was made by the wind or rain, or even by some animal track. This had to be drawn by the little girl! He stared at the mark longer, trying to figure out how to communicate back. He didn't understand human language or marking. He hoped that this one was a happy or friendly mark. He stared longer at it until the mark was burned into his mind. He clumsily traced his thick claw through the dirt, mimicking the marks to the best of his ability, his stubby body and awkward limbs making it difficult to match the fluid motions that this human had. He stood back after finishing his mark, comparing it to the original. He gave a crocodile smile at his work, proud of his accomplishment. Maybe this young girl would come back and see it. He could only hope.
He picked himself up and made his way back through the forest towards the river. He was definitely not moving as fast, his tail kinked and his skin stinging, but he walked back with a toothy grin. He now had a purpose, he knew what he was going to do. He would wait by the river where the girl found him. He knew how he would let her know it was him, and not a hungry crocodile waiting for a meal.
The little girl came back to where she had lost the crocodile at the cliff-base. She could see that the crocodile had followed her and tried to climb the rocky base. Scratch marks and tail swipes covered the soft rock and broken branches littered its surface. She could still see the marks from where she and her brother had been playing before they decided to play in the forest. But now there was a new mark that had definitely not been there before. Her small drawings were all over the dusty ground, but next to her "I 'heart' mom" scribble was another mark. Clumsily scratched into the ground was a heart, just like hers. She stared at the mark in confusion. It was definitely not made with her stick, it didn't have the right look. But there was no way a crocodile could have made been able to make a drawing like that. They are just big dumb lizards. But a nagging feeling was in the back of her mind. Now she was curious. She looked up at the forest before her, thinking of the path back to the riverbed. She decided she would go down to the river tomorrow, with a grown up of course, and see if that big old crocodile was still there.
I haven't written a story in a long time, so I apologize if things are not 100% clear, but I hope you enjoy it.
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