Blowhole was now undergoing great humiliation. He was currently being transported in a self-steering pick-up truck. Holograms of humans, surprisingly realistic animations of his own making, were seating at the driver’s kiti, kiti cha and in the kitanda of the truck with him. Although it was quite humiliating, to appear so helpless and being assisted kwa humans…but it was the only way he could be transported to the drop-off point without igniting suspicion.
A towel was draped over Blowhole’s tail; to any humans that happened to see, it would appear like a makeshift device to keep his body temperature down. In reality, it was hiding Marlene from the view of alisema humans.
“My nose itches,” she hissed.
“Scratch it when we start moving again,” Blowhole hissed back, “We’re at a red light, and humans are staring at us. If they see wewe move, then they will get suspicious.”
“And why am I lying on your tail, anyway?” Marlene asked, still trying to remain quiet.
“If we are stopped kwa any officers of the law, they will already find it curious that a dolphin is being transported to the ocean. The holograms are programmed to give the same answer: this dolphin is being relocated to a cleaner environment. The police always accept that. But what if the officer saw an otter sitting in the front kiti, kiti cha with the humans?”
“Point taken,” Marlene admitted. She felt the truck songesha away and was quick to scratch her nose. “You know something,” she remarked absent-mindedly, “they were right. Your skin IS surprisingly pleasant to the touch.”
Blowhole smiled proudly. “One should always make time to moisturize,” he explained. He omitted the reason being, because one can never tell when an attractive female will onyesha up. Blowhole was like all other dolphins: always ready for and expecting the inayofuata nightly sexual conquest. But he would never tell her that. She would take offense, most likely.
Marlene sighed; instead of sounding nervous au anxious about the bomb around her neck au the mission ahead of her, she sounded bored. “So, what are we going to do once we get to the beach?”
“Simple,” Blowhole replied, “We will find a hole in the papa net – in case wewe are curious, I prefer not to jump over objects, just like all dolphins – and swim towards the location of the sunken base. Once we arrive there, I will explain what wewe are going to do.”
“Wait…shark net?” Marlene muttered; she had never heard of one, “That doesn’t sound good.”
Blowhole hissed angrily through his
blowhole and snapped his jaws. “It isn’t.”
He refused to explain why it was so bad. Then again, since they had now arrived at the drop-off spot, she was soon to find out for herself what was so bad about a papa net. She tossed the towel off and jumped from the kitanda of the truck to the ground, landing quite gracefully. She took in her surroundings: she stood on an overhanging area of shell beach, which looked quite untouched kwa humankind. Driftwood and litter, washed up from storms in the past, were piled up all about her; shrubs and trees added to the rustic, wild look.
“It looks so….” Marlene spoke; her voice was quite strange as she spoke. A purring snarl. “…wild.”
She could feel it again. The quickening of her pulse, the sharpening of her senses, the strengthening of her muscles…it was quite wonderful, being taken over kwa the wild…something that was so easy to give in to…
“Don’t even think of it,” Blowhole spoke. That voice (smooth sexy seductive Marlene’s wild self thought for a mgawanyiko, baidisha second) shattered Marlene’s fantasies, snapping her back to reality. She glared at him; he had eased himself down from the truck kitanda and was propping himself up on his pectoral fins, glaring directly into her eyes.
Marlene felt embarrassed at almost losing control again; because no one else was in the area, she took it out on Blowhole. “I was perfectly fine!” she lied, “I wasn’t thinking about it at all!”
Blowhole smirked and gave her head a derogatory pat. “Of course wewe weren’t,” he trilled, “Now climb on.”
Marlene snapped to attention. “Whoa, wait, what?”
“Your species are impossibly slow swimmers compared to dolphins,” he explained, “and I refuse to have to continually wait for wewe to catch up. Therefore, wewe are going to ride on my back.” He interpreted her expression of disdain accurately and added, “I am as upset about it as wewe are, but we don’t have any other choice.” He pointed again to the detonator around his fin. “Or rather, you don’t.”
Marlene growled at him; had she aliyopewa in to her wild desires, this growl would have been zaidi threatening than it actually was. However, she had not, so it was not. Knowing that she certainly didn’t have a choice, she jumped onto his back, just in front of his dorsal fin.
He didn’t warn her when he jumped, and it scared her to death when he did. She heard herself shriek as he pushed himself off the ledge, jumping into the water with a mighty splash. The water here was deep enough for him to begin swimming immediately; with a sounding of his sonar to regain his bearings, Blowhole headed out to sea as the somewhat terrified Marlene dug her claws into his back and held on tight.
A towel was draped over Blowhole’s tail; to any humans that happened to see, it would appear like a makeshift device to keep his body temperature down. In reality, it was hiding Marlene from the view of alisema humans.
“My nose itches,” she hissed.
“Scratch it when we start moving again,” Blowhole hissed back, “We’re at a red light, and humans are staring at us. If they see wewe move, then they will get suspicious.”
“And why am I lying on your tail, anyway?” Marlene asked, still trying to remain quiet.
“If we are stopped kwa any officers of the law, they will already find it curious that a dolphin is being transported to the ocean. The holograms are programmed to give the same answer: this dolphin is being relocated to a cleaner environment. The police always accept that. But what if the officer saw an otter sitting in the front kiti, kiti cha with the humans?”
“Point taken,” Marlene admitted. She felt the truck songesha away and was quick to scratch her nose. “You know something,” she remarked absent-mindedly, “they were right. Your skin IS surprisingly pleasant to the touch.”
Blowhole smiled proudly. “One should always make time to moisturize,” he explained. He omitted the reason being, because one can never tell when an attractive female will onyesha up. Blowhole was like all other dolphins: always ready for and expecting the inayofuata nightly sexual conquest. But he would never tell her that. She would take offense, most likely.
Marlene sighed; instead of sounding nervous au anxious about the bomb around her neck au the mission ahead of her, she sounded bored. “So, what are we going to do once we get to the beach?”
“Simple,” Blowhole replied, “We will find a hole in the papa net – in case wewe are curious, I prefer not to jump over objects, just like all dolphins – and swim towards the location of the sunken base. Once we arrive there, I will explain what wewe are going to do.”
“Wait…shark net?” Marlene muttered; she had never heard of one, “That doesn’t sound good.”
Blowhole hissed angrily through his
blowhole and snapped his jaws. “It isn’t.”
He refused to explain why it was so bad. Then again, since they had now arrived at the drop-off spot, she was soon to find out for herself what was so bad about a papa net. She tossed the towel off and jumped from the kitanda of the truck to the ground, landing quite gracefully. She took in her surroundings: she stood on an overhanging area of shell beach, which looked quite untouched kwa humankind. Driftwood and litter, washed up from storms in the past, were piled up all about her; shrubs and trees added to the rustic, wild look.
“It looks so….” Marlene spoke; her voice was quite strange as she spoke. A purring snarl. “…wild.”
She could feel it again. The quickening of her pulse, the sharpening of her senses, the strengthening of her muscles…it was quite wonderful, being taken over kwa the wild…something that was so easy to give in to…
“Don’t even think of it,” Blowhole spoke. That voice (smooth sexy seductive Marlene’s wild self thought for a mgawanyiko, baidisha second) shattered Marlene’s fantasies, snapping her back to reality. She glared at him; he had eased himself down from the truck kitanda and was propping himself up on his pectoral fins, glaring directly into her eyes.
Marlene felt embarrassed at almost losing control again; because no one else was in the area, she took it out on Blowhole. “I was perfectly fine!” she lied, “I wasn’t thinking about it at all!”
Blowhole smirked and gave her head a derogatory pat. “Of course wewe weren’t,” he trilled, “Now climb on.”
Marlene snapped to attention. “Whoa, wait, what?”
“Your species are impossibly slow swimmers compared to dolphins,” he explained, “and I refuse to have to continually wait for wewe to catch up. Therefore, wewe are going to ride on my back.” He interpreted her expression of disdain accurately and added, “I am as upset about it as wewe are, but we don’t have any other choice.” He pointed again to the detonator around his fin. “Or rather, you don’t.”
Marlene growled at him; had she aliyopewa in to her wild desires, this growl would have been zaidi threatening than it actually was. However, she had not, so it was not. Knowing that she certainly didn’t have a choice, she jumped onto his back, just in front of his dorsal fin.
He didn’t warn her when he jumped, and it scared her to death when he did. She heard herself shriek as he pushed himself off the ledge, jumping into the water with a mighty splash. The water here was deep enough for him to begin swimming immediately; with a sounding of his sonar to regain his bearings, Blowhole headed out to sea as the somewhat terrified Marlene dug her claws into his back and held on tight.
