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The water is thick, invading, but he can breathe just fine. It spans beyond his vision, an endless world before him to explore. He swims deeper, down to the depths where the sun cannot find him. Darkness pervades, but he is not afraid. This is his domain, and anyone who crosses his path will make way. He is King here.
Lower still, but he is warm. Bubbles skim his flesh, scaly friends leeched to his torso for the ride. He doesn’t mind at all; they work together, him feeding them, them cleaning him. The perfect ecosystem. There is a shimmer, a call for his attention, so he races towards it, agile despite his girth. A tangle of wood and metal greets him, grateful for the notice, opening its maw as wide as his to invite him inside. He’s always wanted to visit a shipwreck, and this one is just as perfect as his wildest dreams — some of the windows are even still intact, the captain’s quarters preserved in the murky sediment. He explores, finding twisted bars of metal and splintered wood to guide him through. Cups and plates, a toothbrush, sodden trousers. Oof, he is not keen on sodden trousers. He is well accustomed to those.
There, nestled in a sandy pit, is a bright yellow ball adorned with a red star and lined in a band of blue. It cries out to him, so he grabs it, pinning it between his baleen plates that bristle through the water. He swims free of the debris and goes to find his brother, a sleek creature of the palest sheen and a long, thin body. He finds him perusing the sand floor for treasure, and drops the ball on his head.
They grin toothily, rows and rows of brush lining their mouths, and his brother captures the ball, tossing his head to send it careening away. It sinks slowly, bouncing along the ground until a disgruntled octopus flicks a careless arm to kick it away. He swims after it, using one wide fin to bat it back towards his brother. The novelty keeps them entertained long enough to rise closer and closer to the surface where the sun scatters like fragments of gems. His fathers approach, one smaller than his brother but bigger than him snatching the ball so that his boys will take chase.
They are carefree, streaming like torpedos, worrying not about anyone else. Behind them, at a glacial, elegant pace, is the biggest creature of the ocean, an imposing omniscient figure. He knows All, controls every faction of the ocean under his fin, but to him, he is just a loving father. Soft under his blubber, with sharp eyes that gentle for his family. He is convinced to join in, but he moans at their jubilant caws, the noise a yawn that pounds through the current to be heard for miles.
The ball is flung every which way when his other father pushes it towards the surface with his nose, daring his boys to go after it. With one hefty nudge it explodes through the world into that of the sky, and he follows it. Needing little effort, he jumps out of the water, rising metres into the air, hearing human cries of amazement as he catches the ball, the picture of grace. The sun glitters magically against his sandpaper flesh, warm and caressing, and he grins before crashing into the water, his tail fanned out for his audience.
There is nothing quite like it, that even a ray, shyly approaching, is agape with awe. Its mouth puckers at him, expressing its delight, foisting him with praise. He waves a fin at the ray, glad he cannot blush, and approaches. They become rapid friends, his brother joining, his pod around him as they swim on, tired of the ball game. The ray coasts the ball along its fins, flapping, tilting it side to side over its shoulders, skilfully manipulating it every which way and content to do so alone, even as it swims peaceably beside its predators.
His brother swims further on, gasping quietly. He warns his pod to sneak, to hush, and they edge up, curious. Under a stream of golden light a school of fish, silver but painted rainbow by the sun swim in tandem. There is no direct leader, but they follow blindly, together as one. Hundreds of them, chattering loudly, oblivious to the hunters watching them. Scales glimmer, magically, and he cannot stop a call, cannot hold back his thoughts of their beauty. The school turns around, unafraid, a constant moving figure compacted tight. The best of friends, a family, a-
“Good morning Jawn, time to wake up now.”