The ocean was much vaster than the land, of that Coriolis was positive. She knew for a fact that the land was very big indeed--for the last couple of years she had been on a journey to explore the entire coastline of the world. So far she'd been skipping going up rivers--she only had so much time, after all--but she had been through the frigid deeps of the arctic, through the warm water of the ocean's western coast, through the brightly-colored, highly-populated waves of the tropics, and now she was returning to her usual swimming grounds that she loved so much--the chilly deepwater upwellings of the ocean's eastern coastline. There was something about the kelp forest that soothed her mind. She wasn't sure what it was exactly. Maybe that's why she had been determined to explore the entire coastline. She had wanted to know how each place differed from the rest, and therefore what part of her homewaters she loved most.Unlike the arctic, this place was warmer. Unlike the far side of the continent, this place was more dynamic. Unlike the tropics, she didn't feel like she was the dullest thing there. The tropics had been a little hard on her; she had felt like a stranger, like an outcast, with her plain blue and silver markings. She had felt like a salmon surrounded by garibaldi. Maybe she was a salmon. Always going far away, but always returning home again.
She shook her head. Fanciful thoughts. She was almost home again, and she could almost taste the seaweed of home, could almost feel the gooseneck barnacles against her back (scratching her back with them was very nice, very convenient. She had been away for so long. She hoped nothing had happened while she was away, no big war, or some herd moving in. She didn't think she could stand a herd moving in to her home waters. She would feel even more out of place then.
