The whales sing to their god, the moon. There is much they would say to that silvery orb that controls the currents and the tides. Young calves are taught the appropriate supplication whistles to bring the waves, and under the full moon they dance and play with an air of thankfulness and fear.
Salt water crusts their skin, and the silvery light of their god sets it to sparkling. They are like diamonds gifted by an enamored lover, a necklace of love on every square foot of wet skin.
A whale mother breaches the still surface. Clinging to her back is what appears to be a small, brown human child. The child’s midnight black hair traps the water in its kinky coils. Large, luminous eyes take in the moon as its mouth stretches wide to reveal sharp white teeth.
The Moon Child nuzzles the whale mother, whispered words of blessing and comfort against her slick skin.
The moon, eternal god of the whales, looks on with a kind and benevolent eye, content to let its child live among these creatures of the sea.