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Ray was having the time of his life... Until they got to the beach, that is.

By now, it was well established that Stingray wasn't a fan of sand. It turned his coat to itchy grit, wedged itself in between all his toes, burned his paws when the sun was high in the sky, and was unpleasant to walk on. It got all over everything, even food, and biting into it made his eyes water. He liked the little crabs that sometimes popped out of it, but they were just as quick to scurry away, and his paws were too clumsy on the slippy sand for him to ever catch one before it disappeared.

An ordinary day would see him countering his brother's pouting by trying to drag him unwillingly into a game, but today, Swordfish was his comrade-in-defiance. Stingray made his way over to his brother, shaking his paws now and again, and dropped to the ground so he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with his sibling. Ma would have to take them seriously if they teamed up, he thought. He hoped Vix would join them. Three against one meant they would definitely win.

No! he agreed.