Sea Lion Shores landscape tantrums

despite the darkness, there was still a remnant of scorching sun, of thick and clouting humidity. murgash had suffered the day entire, languishing in the shade -- it was not until night was well upon him did he dare venture from the aegis of a bramblepatch. he had instinctively gone to the shore, thinking the coastal wind would have eked from the insufferable humidity a gentle and cool breeze.

alas, it was not so, and the shore was equally as oppressive. murgash was disappointed, though his spirits rallied as he saw the bumbling race of several sea lions not too far from the shallows he waded in.

he was delighted, actually, for they seemed to be running for him -- stupidly he stood right in front of the horde, snapping joyously at their lolling flanks as they thundered past him. dinner! lunch! breakfast forever! he would find a soft calf, or fat mother to fell -- and he would eat and eat and eat until even a glutton would feel desecrated.

yet his thrill was shortlived as he heard a familiar and unwanted sound -- a chill pressed his soul and instantly the heady oppressiveness of the humidity about him seemed false and insufficient. he knew that sound, that expulsion of air and water in a sharp burst -- and he wanted nothing to do with it.

quickly he stepped back, eyeing the barking sea-dogs that by now were on dry land. "smart bastards." he grumbled, scanning the water for any sign of the terror within.