Nebula was swimming through a kelp forest, collecting shells and clams to decorate his home. He knew the forest intimately. It was far from the merfolk villages, a place where he felt safe from their judgment. He disliked their assumptions about his intelligence and his unusual diet. He preferred solitude, enjoying the company of only his pet jellyfish, Cloudy. He found a large clam, carefully opening it and eating the inside. As he gathered his shells, he heard a rustle in the kelp, pausing, unsure if it was real or imagined. The sound came again, causing him to set down his shells. “Nebula’s not alone…” he whispered, watching the kelp intently.