There she saw them, a sight to bring happiness to any Yilanè. An immature efenburu gliding through the clear water, scarcely elininyil, the youngest of the young groupings, they were so small, moving in pursuit of a school of silver fish. She watched for a long moment until they saw her, turned with colored signs of fear on their palms. She raised her own palms telling them not to be afraid. But they were, she was too strange, and in an instant they were gone. One of them had been holding a freshly caught fish, had just bitten through its spine, and now she released it in panic as she rushed away. Enge swam forward and retrieved it, returned to shore.

Ambalasi looked at the small fish with doubt. “Speed of fishing produces tiny catch,” she said.

“I didn’t catch it. I surprised an immature efenburu, disturbed their feeding. They were attractive beyond measure.”

“Undoubtedly. The fish will have to do. Remain here while I go forward.”

“You may order, I will not obey. I will walk behind you, then move forward to assist you if there is danger.”

Ambalasi began to speak, realized it would only be a waste of effort, and signed reluctant agreement. “At least five paces behind me. We proceed.”

She held the tiny fish before her and walked slowly along the path, stopping before she entered the grove.

“Fish, tasty, nice, friendship,” she said loudly but pleasantly. Then she settled back slowly on her tail, the fish still held out before her, and repeated her entreaties. Something stirred in the darkness and she did her best to convey warmth and friendship in the simplest manner.

The leaves parted and the stranger came reluctantly out. They examined each other in silence for the moment, Ambalasi with the skill of the scientist. All differences appeared to be superficial. Size, structure, surface coloration. A subspecie at most. With slow movements she bent and placed the fish on the grass, then stood and slowly stepped back.

“It is yours. A gift of friendship. Take it and eat. Take it, it is yours.”

The other looked confused, drew back a bit and opened her mouth with lack of comprehension. Perfect dentition, Ambalasi observed. She must simplify.

“Fish-for-eating,” she said, using the very simplest expression, non-verbal and simple color-change in her palms. The other raised her hand.

“Fish,” she color-signed. Bent and seized it up, turned and fled from sight once again.

“Excellent first contact,” Ambalasi said. “That is enough for today, and I grow tired. We return. Did you see what she said?”

Enge was radiant with excitement. “I did, it was wonderful! There is a theory of communication that begins in this manner. It assumes that we learned to speak in the ocean, physically at first, then with greater skill and verbalization.”