Chapter 18: Wildlife

Chapter 18: Wildlife

Snips!” I ran to meet my friend, giving her a good scratch on the carapace. “I was worried about you! Where did you get off to?” Her eyestalk twitched between me and Barry, blowing bubbles of . . . hesitation? Questioning?

“He’s all right, Snips. No need to keep secrets from Barry.”

She nodded firmly, then scuttled back into the river.

What is she up to . . . ?

She returned a moment later, and behind her a line of fellow rock crabs emerged.

I raised an eyebrow, not sure what was going on, but she seemed to have recruited more of her kind. There were five of them in total, and they formed an orderly line across the sand next to Snips.

Snips went to the first one, gesturing emphatically at the sand with one of her powerful claws. Its eyes looked at her, and for a moment nothing happened, then she gave it a light smack on the head, and two stones shot out of its mouth. I bent down to look at them—not just stones, they were pearls!

She repeated the same gesture with the other crabs, and a total of eight pearls lay on the sand, each as big as my pinky nail, glittering in the late afternoon sun. I picked them up, an unbelieving smile spreading across my face.

“Snips! You beautiful little scamp! Where did you find so many?”

She bubbled in delight, puffing her body up and swaying with joy. She turned and made a shooing gesture, and the five rock crabs scuttled off into the river.

I picked up the pearls, walking back toward Barry. “You’re just in time for dinner, Snips! You deserve a reward for this!” She scuttled beside me, preening the entire way.

“Have you seen these before, Barry?” I held out the naturally formed stones, and his eyebrows shot up.

“No . . . what are they? They look almost like gems . . .”

“Technically, they’re stones, but they can form naturally in oysters.” I petted Sergeant Snips with my other hand. “This little scallywag gathered them with her crabby friends.”

“I wonder what they’re worth,” he said. “I could see them being used in some pretty high-end stuff, Fischer. It’s a shame they’re from the sea.”

“Er—maybe you can keep that tidbit to yourself, mate. I don’t want to go devaluing them.”

He nodded, giving me a conspiratorial look. “Not a problem, especially if you intend on selling them to the people on the north side of Tropica . . .”

I barked a laugh. “But of course! Who else could afford such prestigious gems, definitely gathered from the ground, and not the mouths of shellfish?”

We grinned at each other, and I started running plans in my head for how to market and sell the stones.

I know I didn’t want to engage in any business, but these could allow me the freedom to fish to my heart’s content!

When the cooked crab had sufficiently cooled, I snapped off a leg, holding it to Snips. “I didn’t think you’d have any reservations about eating sand crab, but just making sure that’s not an—”

She snatched the leg, shoving it into her mouth. A crunching ground out as she chewed it—shell and all—and she blew a stream of joyous bubbles when she finished devouring the first bite.

Well, that moral dilemma is settled . . .

I pulled a claw off, cracking it between my fingers and sliding the meat out with ease. The smell was intoxicating, and I took a moment to thank the crab for the gift of its flesh before placing it in my mouth. The flesh was sweet and salty, the flavor of it a perfect harmony. I moaned in delight, unable to contain the noise.

“That actually smells quite good . . .” Barry said.

“Why don’t you try just a bit?” I raised an eyebrow. “It’s not as if you lived from the sea—I did all the catching and cooking, after all, and if you don’t eat it, Snips and I are going to.”

I finally reached the Sergeant, the percussive noises tapping ever louder. I laid eyes on another creature, and my freshly woken mind struggled to make sense of what I was seeing. There was an otter on the jutting stone of the headland, bashing a rock into a bed of oysters. The lid of a mollusk flew away, and with a deft movement, the creature bent and sucked it into their mouth.

“What the fuck . . . ?”

The otter heard me, and shot its head toward us, the rock held high in two cute paws. We looked at each other for a long moment, no one moving or making a sound. Then, with its eyes still locked on me, the otter swung the rock down on an oyster.

This blatant disregard for our presence was enough to send Sergeant Snips into a frenzy, and she scuttled angrily toward the interloper, making a C’Thulian hiss. The otter retreated, diving into the sea with its rock as Snips clacked her claws and shot attacks through the now empty air. The guard crab leaped in after it, and I had a moment of serene quiet as they both disappeared beneath the waves.

A cool breeze tickled my skin, and I breathed deep of the sea spray it dragged along with it. I looked out at the water lapping the rocks, reflecting the light of the sun that threatened to breach the horizon.

The otter emerged on the rocks, twenty meters from where it was before, and gave me a sidelong glance as it resumed smashing a different section of oysters. It ate one, started hitting the next, and a rabid crab emerged behind it. Sergeant Snips blew bubbles of fury as she scuttled at it, the clacking of claws replacing the chorus of rock against shellfish. The otter dashed away, slipping easily back beneath the surf, and Snips flew in after it.

Another momentary reprieve, then the otter emerged from the sea closer to where I stood, once more resuming its meal as it monitored me. When the seething crab emerged after it, I yelled, “Snips! Stop!”

The otter disappeared again, and Sergeant Snips seemed to huff as her lone eye shot between me and the ripples where the creature dove.

“Come here, Snips.” She came to me, the raving bubbles tinged with confusion. “It’s all right, Snips.”

I bent and scratched her carapace, trying to reassure the fuming crustacean. “I don’t think we could stop it if we tried, and besides, it’s all right to share our land with the wildlife.”

She gestured at the oyster beds, at me, and then back to where the otter had retreated, physically shaking with indignation.

“I know,” I said, rubbing her top with slow strokes. “I know you want to protect our place, and it can be incredibly frustrating to be ignored, but it really is okay.”

The otter emerged again, this time far away. With little regard for our existence except occasional glances, it started smacking the rock down again.

Before Snips could race off, I spoke. “Let’s just leave it for now, all right? There are heaps of rocks, and plenty of oysters besides. Should we go catch some breakfast? Maybe I can get you a nice fat fish?”

She bristled but accepted my words, only flinching a little at the sound of the otter’s tool descending as we walked back to the house.

“Can you carry this for me, Snips?” I asked, holding out the smaller rod and giving her a distracting task.

She nodded and took it, still clearly conflicted by having something else on the headland and actively taking from my property.

I grabbed everything else needed and began leading her up the river and further from the otter, when a voice cut through the otherwise silent air.

“Fischer! You here?”

“Hide,” I said to Snips. She picked up on the urgency in my voice, dropping the rod and scuttling into the river. I saw her single peeper emerge, poking almost imperceptibly above the surface.

“Over here, Sebastian!” I yelled, walking toward the voice.

“There you are, my friend!” the lobster cultist said, stepping over the sands and giving me a broad smile.

It seemed to me the first genuine smile I’d gotten from the man, so I returned it, happy to see him in good spirits.

“Good to see ya, mate! What brings you here?”

“Coffee, of course!” he said, presenting a mug of the aromatic liquid.