Chapter 12

Triumph. She had killed the reefmaker, but at steep cost. Next to her, floating on top of the shallows, were several tidefang otters, barely hanging on to life. They had come to help her finish it, but they were worse for wear already. And they were too late. They had fended off their enemy, but at what cost? They had even defended her, and she wasn’t even converged. Her respect swelled as she realized how marvelous, and smart, these little rascals truly were. In her mind, it was further proof that the divide between animal and human wasn’t so far apart.

There were a hundred different animals she had considered converging with, but these creatures felt right. Kiva struggled to stand up, and waded over to the wounded and the dead along the shoreline. Living clung to dead, holding on to each other. It was hard to tell in the water, but she was pretty sure there were tears in their eyes, mourning the loss of their kin. A larger mother of two pups was nuzzling both, trying to find a response, clinging desperately to them while floating on her back. Nothing she did worked. The carnage was thorough, a complete massacre. The romp was now dangerously low on members, their social structure destroyed.

Kiva turned her head, scanning the scene, taking it all in. A profound sense of sadness washed over her, mental pain mixing with physical. The corals of the reefmaker had cut her, and had been a strong defense against any damage she could do. Ultimately, the pieces now broken off from the body would form the basis of the coral ecosystem that would flourish and thrive, and allow this otter romp to rebuild and survive. It seemed unfair, but she supposed it was the way of nature. Fairness didn’t ever factor into things. The mother otter thumped her tail at her, followed by a sharp bark as Kiva veered too close for her liking. She was letting nothing near her young, dead or alive.

Kiva just sat on the rocky shore, watching as most of them retreated into the protectiveness of their den caves, hoping to recover in peace. She wouldn’t dare venture in right now. She wasn’t sure she would make it out. She stared at the corpse of the reefmaker. It was big, but no larger than her. How could one creature cause so much damage? What a waste. Its armor would have been a useful trait if she could have converged with it, but she knew it was so alien, and they were virtually impossible to locate due to their excellent camouflage. It also disgusted her. She never would have had any chance. Besides, she liked the otters. They were pretty much family now, in Kiva’s mind. She wasn’t sure they felt the same, but if defending them, and saving those few she could, didn’t prove her good intentions towards them, then nothing would.

One lone otter drew her attention again, shouting a cry, looking for its kin, but not daring leaving the safety of the rock it was perched on. It was probably worried about more predators in the water. Kiva didn’t immediately do anything. There was a certain respect required to live among animals. You had to know when to leave them alone, which was most of the time. Eventually though, she just felt too sorry for it, and decided it was time to intervene. No other otters had come to its call.

Weariness seeping through her bones, she forced herself to wade out, hip deep into the ocean, towards the rock. The otter stared at her, scared at first, but after she didn’t make any attempt to climb the rock for quite some time, it calmed, accustomed to her presence. She grabbed a handful of pebbles, picked out a shiny one round one, and tossed it up to the creature. The otter darted away, but soon was curious, and hid the rock somewhere it could retrieve it later. It eyed her from above, with big orbs staring down at her, giving a mournful mewl, and leaned over the edge just a bit before retreating. Kiva spoke in a calm voice, reaching out her hand slowly, for it to smell.

“It’s fine. I won’t hurt you. You need to get back to your romp. I’ll take you there if you want. You can stay above the water.”She noticed the injured paw as it scrambled to back up away from her, terrified once again. “Oh, you’re hurt. I can’t help you if you don’t let me get near you. Guess I’ll just wait here until you’re ready. What a pair we are….”She gestured to her cut-up face and arms, and the nasty wound in her leg that made every step painful. Hoisting herself onto the rocky structure, she found somewhere to sit, with her back to the rock, completely ignoring the animal above her. She was tired. She needed rest. Her eyes closed, and she exhaled deeply, unsure if she would ever wake again.

* * *

The otter wasn’t quite sure what to make of this thing below it. It didn’t seem dangerous. Not like that tentacled monster. But he didn’t know what it was, either. How could he be sure? Sure, she’d lived amongst them for days, and never attacked, but that’s what the trickiest hunters did. They lulled the prey into a false sense of security, then bam…dead. He was a smart otter, not a stupid one. Still, he had to get off this rock sometime. And he was injured. So was the big, smelly thing below him. It smelled like blood and salt.

* * *

Kiva awoke to small rocks dropping on to her head. It didn’t hurt, but it was unexpected. She was about to scold the otter, then paused… was it angry? Wait, pebbles was their native currency. Was it happy?

She paused, picking up the rocks. They were round, smooth, shiny. The nicest pebbles it could locate probably. She held them in her cupped hands, offered her thanks and put them in her pockets. This must have been the right thing to do as the animal slunk down the rock, inching closer to her. She simply sat back down, allowing it to come to her in his own time. He was young of age, and not yet full-grown size, but still maybe half her body weight.

She put her hand out towards it, pressed flat on the ground palm down, looking away. Soon enough she felt whiskers and water droplets as it smelled her hand, barely grazing it with his nose. This process repeated a few more times and it felt comfortable enough to fully step down onto the level of her perch. She saw it limp as it landed the final hop, holding it a back paw in the air. She grabbed a nearby crab that was scurrying around the small beachhead and tossed it to him. He immediately began his work snacking on it, fangs effortlessly piercing the shell. When she tried to inspect the wounded paw, the otter barked at her, pulling away, wheeling around to face her, but immediately refocusing on the crab snack.

“I can’t help you if you don’t let me get close. I guess we’ll do this the slow way.”Kiva caught a handful more crabs over the next hour, and kept tossing them to him to eat. The otter began returning the shells as thanks for the gifts. They were both exhausted, and after the meal, it settled in next to her, curling up alongside her, as she sat back against the rock. She drifted, unsure what else to do.

Water splashed against her ankles, waking her. The tide was rising. This beachhead would be underwater within hours. As the water climbed higher over the next hour, it woke the otter from a sound slumber. It panicked, probably still traumatized from the reefmaker, scrambling up onto her for safety. The thick claws dug into her skin, puncturing her clothing. She held on to it with both arms, and it let her hold on without protest this time.

“I think it’s time to get you home.” Kiva waded out into the water slowly. She could still walk across the small rocky shelf under the surface of the water, but it was up to her waist. Still, it was a short journey, a quick crossing. It was made difficult by the otter clinging on to her shoulders, scratching her with its panicky movements. She was deathly tired, wounded, and weak from blood loss. She was also determined. Reaching the far shore, she unceremoniously dumped the otter onto the rocky ground. Kiva collapsed to her knees. She closed her eyes, and tipped to the side, passing out, completely spent. The otter ran off, eager to get to his family.

The tide continued to rise. Kiva felt it wash over her, waking her, but she couldn’t muster the energy to get back to shore. She was only partially conscious as she felt the waves take her, floating out with the tide. It was all she could do to stay on her back, keeping her face above water. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end to come. I did some good at least. Water splashed over her face, entering her lungs through her nose, as she coughed and sputtered, flailing with the last of her energy. The end was close. She hadn’t converged, but it didn’t matter. She would do the same thing if it happened again, and she could live with the results. Her final thoughts were of her family, and how much she loved them, and how sad they would be when she didn’t return. Her father, and Anya. Anya was family too. She probably should have told her that… family was important. Family was all you really had, just look at the otters if you needed proof.

As she sunk below the water, she let go, resigned to her fate. She couldn’t even see the shore now, and it was futile. Suddenly, otters surrounded her, darting through the water at incredible speeds to reach her. They grabbed onto her, buoying her above the water. Four of them surrounded her, effortlessly floating on their backs like a raft, with her in the middle, her limbs spread over them.

Salt mixed with salt, as she cried tears of joy, relief, and thanks, that couldn’t be seen in the seawater. She was still cut, bleeding, some from battle, and some from the otter’s over eager grip while she had rescued it. The otters surrounding her were still wounded from battle, but had an effortless time floating in the water.

In that moment, saltwater mixed with human blood, and with tidefang otter blood, washing over the five of them. Kiva shivered, a cold shock running down her spine. Suddenly she had a bit of energy, as new life surged into her body. The ocean didn’t seem so cold anymore, and she knew why. Family.

She had succeeded. She had converged! It finally happened! The otters were Kiva’s family too now. She was tired but elated. As the otters slowly brought her back to the safety of their rocky cove, they left her on a shelf above the water line. She rested, now part of the romp, as a bioconvergent.

She couldn’t wait to tell Anya. Her friend had been bugging her their whole childhood to find out what her convergence would be. This was amazing! Only after a few days too. This had to be the fastest convergence on record.

But for now, she needed to heal. She was spent. Sore, wounded, and proud, Kiva slept, preparing to head back to Howler’s Cove as soon as she was able.