09-13-2017, 12:22 AM
An electric shock from their whiskers had been enough to kill the calf instantly. The mother whale cried in distress as she circled, watching helplessly as Muto tore apart her child. It was her own fault to lead it into such dangerous waters, they mused. Besides, it was weak. They were doing her a favor, and she would have another calf next year. But… this reasoning did not prevent a knot of guilt from forming inside them. They made quick work of their catch, thrashing violently as they stripped it clean. The sea frothed dark red around them. Once satisfied, they let the bones fall to the seafloor and returned their attention to the human ship. Which, to their chagrin, was right where they had left it.
They circled cautiously, unfamiliar with the sheer size of the vessel. Their luminous pelt still glittered wildly from the adrenaline of the hunt. To anyone peering into the depths, they resembled a writhing a cluster of stars. The crew on deck scurried frantically about, making all sorts of bothersome noise. Muto lifted their head from the water and hissed. They had hoped that a simple warning would have sufficed, but further action was apparently needed. They prodded the hull with their shoulder, causing it to rock once more. It was only a slight movement but a few humans suddenly shrieked in terror. Muto couldn't tell whether or not any had seen them. They were practically invisible at night, aside from their eyes and the patterns of their pelt. They paused and looked towards the cloud covered sky. Though they could not see the stars, they knew the dawn was on its way. Time was of the essence. Their attacks would be less effective during sunlit hours, as their vision faltered in the bright light. They let out a low growl, ramming into the ship once more. This time a bit of the wood splintered. The hull held steady, but a good amount of water crashed suddenly into the lower deck. They wanted to get this intruder out of their sea as soon as possible— even if that meant tearing it apart piece by piece.
They circled cautiously, unfamiliar with the sheer size of the vessel. Their luminous pelt still glittered wildly from the adrenaline of the hunt. To anyone peering into the depths, they resembled a writhing a cluster of stars. The crew on deck scurried frantically about, making all sorts of bothersome noise. Muto lifted their head from the water and hissed. They had hoped that a simple warning would have sufficed, but further action was apparently needed. They prodded the hull with their shoulder, causing it to rock once more. It was only a slight movement but a few humans suddenly shrieked in terror. Muto couldn't tell whether or not any had seen them. They were practically invisible at night, aside from their eyes and the patterns of their pelt. They paused and looked towards the cloud covered sky. Though they could not see the stars, they knew the dawn was on its way. Time was of the essence. Their attacks would be less effective during sunlit hours, as their vision faltered in the bright light. They let out a low growl, ramming into the ship once more. This time a bit of the wood splintered. The hull held steady, but a good amount of water crashed suddenly into the lower deck. They wanted to get this intruder out of their sea as soon as possible— even if that meant tearing it apart piece by piece.