Blue Streak swam under the cover of the large plants, their flat pads bobbing with the water surface. Only the silvery ball pierced the darkness, the larger more powerful orb gone for now. Blue considered pushing through to the air again, but the memory of his prior attempt, made him rethink such an endeavor. The pink things were about, large and clumsy. At this point they were all on shore, sitting around a glowing, changing… thing. It was fire, but Blue did not know such a word. He knew nothing of it, but it intrigued him so much. How did it work? Could he ever know such a glorious site in his world? Was it hot or cold?
Movement below made Blue snap back to his work. With a predilection to gliding high above the layers below, Blue found his work of scouting and patrolling satisfactory. Five times he raised alarm, sending his fellow eels away from their home, just before the enemy descended, massacre and death to follow. Two generations owed their lives to Blue and his diligent surveillance.
Once Blue had tried to communicate they should fight back, yet no one joined him. The evil descended with claw and armor impossible to break or snap open. The bite of Blue and his kin was something feared by most flesh, but the enemy was
not flesh. The enemy was hard, fearless, relentless. The spiked ones scurried over the surface of the dirt, greedily slaughtering, absorbing the resources and young, the food piles and land.
Now using the shadows afforded by the large canopy pads, Blue closed in on the movement. Sure enough it was a crab scout, looking for families to feast upon later. He was close enough to stumble upon the clan. With all his speed, Blue surged downward, silent as a prayer. He looped around the scout, trying to create a swirl and lift it from the seabed. If done, a crab was much less graceful upended. The scout wanted no part of such nonsense and gripped a rock with one claw, and began lashing out with the other.

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