The next morning, Sartin woke to find his head cradled against Maru’s shoulder. The high tide had filled the pool with fresh seawater. Sartin longed to swim. Water splashed up over the lip of the pool as he gingerly untucked himself from Maru’s arm. Maru stirred, rolled over in the opposite direction, and then went back to sleep.
Sartin pulled himself through the trough to the open water. His fluke stung with movement, but it was stronger than the day before. The seawater and use of the injured fin would help it heal.
He hadn’t made it far into the bay when exhaustion overtook him. He sat on the sea floor, with only his head and shoulders sticking out of the water. He breathed heavily as he waved his arms in front of him through the water. Sartin sent out a signal, but nothing came back.
