The vibrations intensified, joined by sudden turbulence outside. Through slits of light where water streamed, he glimpsed flickering movement—sharp, fast, nothing like the lumbering grace of whales. Something predatory was circling. His breath caught as a shadow sliced past: a shark, sleek and deliberate, brushing the whale’s outer flank.
Realization hit. The whale hadn’t taken him for food. Had it sheltered him? He was being held, shielded from the predator outside, close within flesh and muscle. Panic softened into awe, though fear lingered. He had always studied the intelligence of whales in theory. Now he was living proof of it.