Miles was swimming.

Swimming in the water, swimming in the ocean. No, he wasn't swimming, he was gliding; each stroke was more powerful than the next. He didn't even know where he was going. He just kept gliding, occasionally flipping or rolling around just for fun. He was free, free of his family and of all the normal troubles that weighed him down. He could do whatever he wanted.

Something called out to him. The other creatures were swimming with him now, and they were all ducking and diving and twisting and turning like it was an enormous dance that everyone was to play a part in. Some would veer away from the group, others would join, but the rest stayed in their positions, ducking and weaving in their graceful dance. And Miles was dancing too. He was part of them. He was part of the weaving and the diving, and as he arced his body through the mass of bodies he began to change.

Using his tail, Miles navigated through the water, diving down into the depths until it was almost pitch black. Then he turned up, using his fins to propel him until he broke to the surface. He seemed to fly for a moment, and then he landed with a soft plop back into the water.

The others did the same. They swam down, then shot up to make a leap that took them to the moon and down again. No-one noticed the small creatures jumping, the night was theirs alone.

Up and down. Each jump seemed to take Miles closer to the sky, and each time he fell he was filled with a strange exhilaration. This was where he was meant to be. With these other creatures. He was home here, more than anywhere else.

Sound. Miles stopped and listened. The others continued to dance, but Miles was hearing someone else calling him. Hesitantly, he removed himself from the others and swam away.

He found himself at a beach. The calling was consistant, and now he could hear it clearer,

"Nim, Nimrod, where are you?"

A boy was making his way across the beach. Miles could recognise him, but he didn't know why. The boy seemed like any other human, a threat, but he wasn't. He was a friend.

The boy spotted him. He ran to the edge of the water,

"Hey Nim"

Miles crawled out of the water and the boy kneeled down and started to stroke him under the chin. Miles moved in closer.

"I don't know what to do" The boy said, "I'm changing Nim. What are you doing to me?"

Miles stared up into the boy's eyes and they connected, him and this boy, and for a moment it was as if they were one person, each part of something bigger.

The boy turned away, "No! I can't do it Nim! I can't change! I can't!"

Yes you can, Miles thought, you can change. Dance with us.

"No!"

Yes

"No!"

Yes!

The boy crumpled to the ground, "Why? What is happening to me? Why does it have to be me?"

Because. You understand us. Come and dance with us.

The boy buried his head in the sand and began to shake. Miles crawled over and laid his head on his hand. The boy looked up at him, tears in his eyes,

"I can't do it"

Yes you can. You have to. Don't be scared. Dance.

"Dance?"

Yes. Come dance with us.

"Dance…Nim?"

Miles blinked. He was on the beach. Nimrod was lying on his hand, staring at him. Miles got up shook his head. How did he get here? What was Nim doing here?

Nim squeaked at him, then he returned to the water. Miles wiped his eyes and started the walk back home. He managed to get back into bed unnoticed. Before he fell asleep he uttered one word,

"Dance…"