The mountains beneath the lake look like pebbles from the safety of your boat. Fish slip and swarm around them and for just a few moments you can pretend they are just little minnows, small and harmless little minnows and not at all great behemoths who have a strong record of capsizing water-bound vessels whenever whimsy strikes them.
It's not like the land is all that much safer either, not with the way they launch themselves ashore, crushing and snapping at anything nearby before the rest of their pack drag them back into the lake's depths by their leathery tails.
I almost wish we had mermaids instead - they may be carnivorous but they at least have the decency to give you fair warning and only go for the idiots who are too distracted by their humanoid lure to notice the gaping maw beneath it.
Not like the lake fish, they don't follow their stomachs or some kind of predatory instinct. They follow whatever lives in the drowned villages around the mountains, the ones that were left to rot when the seven tributary rivers burst their banks to form what we now know as the River Dagborough.
It's not like the land is all that much safer either, not with the way they launch themselves ashore, crushing and snapping at anything nearby before the rest of their pack drag them back into the lake's depths by their leathery tails.
I almost wish we had mermaids instead - they may be carnivorous but they at least have the decency to give you fair warning and only go for the idiots who are too distracted by their humanoid lure to notice the gaping maw beneath it.
Not like the lake fish, they don't follow their stomachs or some kind of predatory instinct. They follow whatever lives in the drowned villages around the mountains, the ones that were left to rot when the seven tributary rivers burst their banks to form what we now know as the River Dagborough.
No comments:
Post a Comment