The swamp is gone as you open your eyes. Beneath you, sand—warm and fine—cradles your waking form. Around you, the repetitive break of waves attempts to lull you back to sleep, but there is an urgent sense of doom that wells in your stomach. Lifting your head, you see that you are trapped on a sandbar that is quickly being swallowed by the sea. Beside you, a whale shark wails and you know that this creature is the only chance you have to survive. Do you befriend this animal or is it a fiend? Are you even a kin or are you a whale shark, too? Do you survive?
No. Not safe. Something was crawling low in the pit of his stomach, reaching upwards, outwards through his throat as though it wanted to break free, turn around, and warn him of something. He couldn't tell what - he couldn't have said what if he was at his full strength, which he was not.
Fierce opened his eyes and discovered that what he had thought was water was instead sand. It cradled him, nestled him into its depths, and around him -
- around him, the water raged, cursing and spitting, rampaging in its fury. Fierce got to his feet slowly, a sense of urgency nonetheless dawning in him, and beside him, something flailed and whimpered, a terrible sound in his ears. He looked askance and saw the creature there, bobbing restlessly at his side, its tail slicing through the air with restless movements, uncertain of its own fate. The eyes were small and dark, glassy with fear.
The ocean screamed. Fierce made a curve of his body instinctively, moving in front of the creature, shielding its slippery form with his back as water pounded against him. It felt like a tree had collapsed on top of them both, a wild pressure and a terrible heaviness threatening to collapse his legs and break every bone left inside of him. Beside him, the creature pressed against his side, nestled into his sopping ribs as though there was nothing else for it to do but wait for it all to pass.
He could not - would not - leave it. He had never been able to leave the helpless ones, and he could not have done so now. Instead, he shifted further, catching it against him, and felt the waves exploding against the sandbar, ocean spray catching him across the face. Fierce flinched away, a growl escaping his throat, but kept his ground, sinking a little deeper, the sand milling about his hooves. He dug in, and buried his nose into the wet sand, making a circular shape now, the creature trapped with him - but it was protected, and that was all that mattered.
They would stay here, then, until it was over. If it would ever be over. He closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, it was warm, though not dry. He was thoroughly drenched on the remnants of the sandbar that remained, which was scarcely enough to fit himself, let alone any other living creature. Something fussed at his side, struggling, and Fierce uncoiled, allowing the creature to slip free, floating a few inches in front of his nose. It was a long, sleek thing, and it watched him with those dark, beady eyes.
We're all right, Fierce thought, and gently pressed his face against the creature. It pressed back, pleased.
See? We're all right.
(wc: 502)
