Gar: I was walking down a trail, strewn with fallen logs and washed up branches. The shore of the James River was to my left, roaring through the trees, out of sight. I caught a glimpse of the rapids whilst traversing a trail. They were fast. My eye followed the flow of the current up to the bank of the river.

A monstrous odor wafted up my nostrils as I headed on. There was another tree lying above the ground, just barely lifted up by an unstable boulder. In the center, under the massive log, was a carcass. It had been mauled by another animal, as far as I could tell, based off how the bones were spread out. Perhaps an eagle could have dropped it?

As disgusted as I was by the combination of sight and smell, I still decided to get closer and take a more detailed look. It was a Gar, and it had beautiful gleaming scales that sparkled in the sunlight, paired with a unique jaw, constructed of cartilage. It was the first time I had seen a Gar up close, much less a mutilated one.

Curiosity overcame disgust, and I picked up one half of its jaw. The smell was sickening, but I didn’t ever drop it. Instead of dropping it, I took it with me. I took the jaw of the Gar with me back to the bus. I took the jaw with me on the ride back to school. I took the jaw with me back into the classroom. I took the jaw, and cleaned it with bleach, turning it into a trophy of my time on the James River, instead of an idol of the cruelty of nature.

Drake: The rapids were fast, and rocks sprouted from the depths of the water, flowing around me. I set down my clipboard and took off my shoes.

Time for an adventure, I had thought. As I stood, I scanned the stony river bed that lay ahead of me. Then I leaped. Not just once, but several times. I hopped from rock to rock, being careful not to fall in.

As I was skipping over gaps and stones, a flash of vibrant green caught my eye. This certain green was not the type of green on plants. It was a deep, lush green, and it was gleaming with beauty. My eyes shifted attention to the green to see the head of a drake staring back at me, not but four or so feet away.

It stood fearlessly on the rock, as did I. Why would a duck not be scared of someone that close to them? Whatever the reason, it was still a wondrous moment. I stood in awe of the drake’s bravery in facing a predator.

The drake, after winning a staring contest with me, blinked slowly twice. He turned his gaze in the opposite direction, and then quietly and swiftly slid back into the current of the River. The drake never looked back as it swam strategically through the rapids. He disappeared twice behind rocks, the second time being the last I saw of him.