He was good, came a thought. I see you are eating too.
A large shadow passed overhead. Most of the Tridentians wiggled their eye-stalks in an effort to look amiable. Harris dropped his fish to the damp floor.
"No, I'm not eating," he said. "I'm all wet."
So am I, answered Big Fish.
"But I'm not usually," said Harris.
I know. It is unkind, they way they let you dry out. Would you like me to knock in the end of the tank? You could have all the water you want.
"Not right now," said Harris calmly. He sat down, crossing his legs. "I'll have to grow some gills first. It may not take much longer, at that."
He looked at the Tridentians, who looked in at him. Again, he felt the sensation of being able to recognize individuals. Perhaps he should talk to them more often through Big Fish.
"Maybe some of them are really nice fellows," he muttered, "if I just get to know them better."
No, his friend told him, they are not very good to eat.