The sun sparkled on the river bend, and every otter in the family gathered for Diving Day. A tall rock canyon curved above the mossy ledge, famous up and down the river for its echo. "Whatever sound you send in, little fins, the canyon sends back bigger," Aunt Coraline said, humming a little tune. Kanoa bounced on his toes, already itching to test his loudest laugh.

Dashiell climbed the ledge first, sleek and sure, and dove in a smooth, arcing curve that barely made a splash. WHOOSH! the canyon roared back, rolling the sound down the whole bend. Everyone cheered, and Kanoa clapped along — but already he was scheming how to make an even bigger sound come bouncing off those rocks. Shout it in, SHOUT it back!

Little Marisela climbed up next, her knees wobbling, counting under her breath, "One... two... three—" Her foot slipped on the mossy ledge, and she landed in the river with a wet, undignified splat! Before anyone could help her up, Kanoa let out a booming laugh and pointed, and the other pups hooted right along with him.

The canyon caught Kanoa's laugh and threw it back doubled — a huge, echoing HA-HA-HA-HAAAA! that bounced off every rock. The pups shrieked with delighted horror at the sound. Marisela shrank smaller in the shallow water, droplets dripping off her nose, while Kanoa grinned wider, thrilled by how big his laugh had sounded. Shout it in, SHOUT it back!

Diving Day rolled on, and every time a pup wobbled or splashed wrong, Kanoa was first to point and hoot, chasing that thundering echo with bigger and bigger jeers. Soon the pups grew more afraid of messing up than excited to dive at all. Dashiell watched quietly, his usual cheer fading, as Kanoa performed for the rocks instead of for his friends.

Determined to make the loudest echo yet, Kanoa climbed higher than anyone had dared and announced his fanciest trick yet: "The Triple Otter Twist!" The other pups gasped. He spread his arms wide at the very edge, grinning down at everyone below. And then—

Kanoa's foot caught the moss at the worst moment. He tumbled sideways instead of twisting and hit the river with the biggest, ugliest belly-flop the bend had ever seen — a spectacular, echoing SPLAT! He surfaced sputtering, and the whole riverbank fell silent, waiting.

Kanoa's ears flattened. He remembered every laugh he had led, every echo he had chased, and braced himself, sure the canyon was about to throw his own doubled mockery right back down on his head. The silence stretched long and heavy. Somewhere behind him, he heard Marisela shakily climbing the ledge for her turn.

Instead of waiting to be laughed at, Kanoa turned, still dripping, and shouted up at Marisela with all his might: "GO, MARISELA, GO!" His voice cracked with nerves, but he meant every word. The canyon caught the sound and held it, gathering, swelling, ready to answer.

The canyon sent the cheer rolling back down the bend, not doubled mockery but a warm, roaring wave of encouragement: "GO, MARISELA, GO-GO-GO!" Marisela's eyes went wide, and she leapt — clumsy, crooked, wonderful — landing with a happy splash! instead of a fearful one.

Dashiell whooped and cheered Marisela's splash as if it were his own perfect dive. One by one, the other pups joined in, hollering happy nonsense at every wobble and every clean dive alike, until the whole canyon rang with cheering instead of jeering. Shout it in, SHOUT it back!

As the sun sank low and gold over the water, the otters piled together on the mossy ledge, worn out and giggling, their cheers still faintly echoing off the rocks. Kanoa curled up between Marisela and Dashiell, warm and full, listening to the last soft echo fade into the hush of the river settling in for sleep.