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275 pages, Hardcover
First published March 22, 2018

In the space of two days and two nights she had lost her mother and her home. She was alone and afraid.
If you sat an otter down to discuss the whys and wherefores of territory, the first words out of its mouth would most likely be ‘It’s complicated’
No wonder life is so good. And what do [otters] do on that couch [a concealed resting place]? Well, in truth not very much. Like a cat, Mion sleep-dozes his way through most of the day, but being an otter he even manages to be busy when at rest, changing position many times with each hour.
Pushing down into the mud, she [Wisp, one of the daughters] moves her frog-finder paw in an arc like a mine hunter, feeling for soft flesh somewhere in the boggy morass of mud and water. Of all the hunting they ever do, this is probably the most measured; methodical and thought out.
soon you’ll get the cadence of the river. The unbroken hubble-bubble as water pours over a weir. A strange sucking slurp where the water folds over a waving raft of weed. The regular jingle as shallow, nervous water tinkles over stones.