Jilly follows the tide as it moves in and out across the shore of her ocean. The water holds her up, lapping against her skin, coating the downy hair on her arms, weighing down her clothes, holding her immobile yet unafraid in the darkness. With every movement of the waves, every small swell of the tide, the water pulls at her feet, a little more each time, until finally her toes are pulled beneath the surface. The balance shifts, her world tilts, and she slides smoothly between the waves and into the depths.
She spins slowly downward;the silver lures on her Grandad's fishing line had spun like this, slowly spiralling through the water as they were pulled ever downward. Shining to light her own way, Jilly did the same, twisting in the currents and going around and around, lower through the limitless deep. She no longer knows if her eyes are open or closed; these waters are so dark that her eyes would be useless here. She relies on another sort of vision, letting her awareness drift and eddy around her, noting the other creatures that keep pace with her on her journey.
To her left, a cloudy horde of jellyfish, tentacles weaving messages of greeting to her as they propel themselves along her path. To her right, the eels, undulating like inky ribbons, sparks glistening along their edges as a warning to all who might approach.
Above, the great white predator, circling endlessly, ever-vigilant and ageless in its need to watch over her. And below, the massive whale, the dogfish, the holder of knowledge that waits for her to sink into its domain.
The whale floats unmoving below her, and Jilly finds to her surprise that a stone has been tied to her feet, that the stone is dragging her down to the whale, deeper than she ever could have managed without it. She draws even with the whale's great eye, and stares, fascinated, at this orb that dwarfs her body. It shines with its own light, just enough to illuminate her skin, and Jilly watches, awestruck, as her pale arm, glowing in the eye-light of the whale, begins to rise up to touch the skin of the beast. Before she can touch it, she sinks again, the current pulling her toward the front of the creature's head, the stone falling away from her feet as the whale seems to yawn, wider than the whole world, and pulls Jilly into the cavern of its mouth.