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Post by Deleted on Oct 1, 2016 21:44:38 GMT -5
Most people would prefer a land-dwelling animal.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 2, 2016 1:09:58 GMT -5
CHAPTER ONE I puff a trickle of bubbles from my blowhole, and Nato adds to the clumped mass of globules, forming a gossamer ring. We encircle the bubbles, twirling, whirling and somersaulting about them, before snapping at them in unison. I feel the light water caress my smooth, silvery back and chitter uproariously, overcome by the sheer euphoria. The water around me seems hazy, as though a mere illusion, as we careen hither and thither, giving rise to puffs of sand and silt, disturbing a harassed-looking squid, which I promptly assail as it flees in search of a new hideout.
“Glutton,” says Nato thickly as I devour the feebly thrashing squid, but I take no notice of her malign, turned dumb by ravenousness. The gummy flesh both tastes and feels unpleasant in my mouth, but I can’t bear to waste precious food. Nato seems to decipher my thoughts: “You didn’t need to kill the squid,” she points out as I grapple with the rubbery tentacles; she’s inherited Mam’s nature, I think, that’s for sure. I snort a trail of bubbles toward her, as if to say, Oh, give it a rest, and she chirrups with ersatz menace.
A series of warbles, clacks and whistles sounds in the distance, Mam’s strict, rushed cry among them: “Vigr! Nato!”
We charge toward the West, where the pod is clustered. The majority look frightened, but the remainder, a group of gung-ho teenagers, look enthralled. I see Nato’s dismal yet indulgent expression and realize that their eagerness humors her. I whistle scornfully and she seems to come to her senses, although a trace of hilarity remains, indestructible. I hiss through my teeth, releasing a spray of bubbles, as Mam rushes toward us and shepherds us into the cluster of dolphins.
“Brosa sighted a gang of adolescent bulls earlier,” she explains haughtily, then, in a disapproving chitter, continues, “those miscreants. Always looking to fight.” I rrukcha with laughter, but quiet as Nato glowers at me in warning.
I glimpse Silfr’s contours out of the corner of my eye, growing larger with every passing moment. I sense a faint smile playing in my eye, but smother it as Mam’s hazy face glares sternly at me. She’s talking, I think hazily, but I’m not paying her the slightest bit of attention.
Silfr’s beaklike snout nuzzles my neck. “Hello, Friskling,” she purrs, a chirp underlying her voice. Friskling has always been her byname for me, since Mam has never bothered with such petty things. A strict mam, I think vaguely, albeit goodhearted, but strict nonetheless—a bit too strict. Silfr has always been like a grandma to me, and, pompous though she may be, I have always tried my best to make visible my love for the elderly cow. Nato receives Silfr’s presence with an icy, steely glare, while Mam’s eyes glow with sheer irritation.
“Ano,” says Silfr, evidently uncomfortable. Mam nods slightly at this, as though validating the use of her name. The silence that follows seems to stretch on for decades, a vast cavity in space and time.
After a while, Silfr disquiets the silence. “Friskling,” she says shrilly, “let’s go explore, shall we?” I am slightly disgruntled by this command; I've explored the Deep millions of times before. I know the seafloor by heart.
She doesn’t wait for an answer, but instead plummets to the seafloor. Mam watches with undammed disgust, while Nato wears a similar look of revulsion. I follow with discomfort, struggling to ignore the eyes lancing my flukes and underbelly. I can hear ridicules and whispers behind me, growing ever fainter the farther I go.
I swoop down, my sleek underbelly dusting the sandy bottom. Silfr is nowhere in sight at first, but my eyes seize on her hunching gray form after a brief search. Too dumb to turn back and too bewildered to come to my senses, I suddenly feel robust muscle ram against my side and serrated teeth envelop my tail and snout. Writhing, thrashing, I hear a faint call from above, then blackness cloaks my sight.
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