Tappity-Tappity-Tap
“Tappity-Tappity-Tap…”
There is constant noise here.
Whether it be the constant chittering and crying of these strange bald seals, the misshapen flippers of their young clawing at the boundary of my prison going or my own navigation clicks bouncing back to inform me that I’m still trapped in this tiny pool.
I can only assume these creatures that trapped me here are the result of some unholy union between a seal and a penguin, but there are so many of them. As soon as the sun rises I am beset by them, some offer food in exchange for banal tasks, some simply stare at me whilst feeding their strange fur-topped faces.
I can’t pretend to understand my prison, I am surrounded by rock on all sides, but then set into this rock there is ice that doesn’t sound or feel like ice. Through this transparent barrier is a near constant parade of wide-eyed bald seal pups, wailing at their parents and tapping on my prison not-ice. So much noise I can barely think.
“…Tappity-Tappity-Tap…”
I have given up hope of escape. When I was first captured I tried to cry out for my pod, only to have the rock and not-ice of this prison cruelly bounce my call back at me over and over again. For the sake of my own sanity I now only vocalise when I have to, the occasional optimistic sonar-click to check for cracks or weakness in the rock and not-ice is the only luxury I allow myself. But there is still so much noise.
I don’t know how the bald seals can cope; perhaps their tiny heads do not allow them to perceive sound in the same way as we do? Or perhaps they enjoy the constant noise; the seals I used to hunt were certainly noisy beasts when they thought themselves out of my reach on the dry. I miss hunting, I miss being able to swim at speed through the vast oceans, my family at my side, out-thinking and out-manoeuvring our prey so that all could join in the spoils.
But here there is no hunting. I am simply fed by the bald seals, they seem intent on keeping me alive if not content. Perhaps they are making an example of me? They seek a war with my kind and I am being kept here as some sort of trophy or hostage?
Either way there is no hunting here.
There is no out-thinking or out-manoeuvring these bald seals here.
There is barely any manoeuvring at all here.
There is just the constant noise.
“…Tappity-Tappity-Tap…”
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