Laki woke to the sound of fishermen returning from their early morning work. The sun was not yet quite over the horizon and the air was chill on his naked torso and damp clothing. He shivered and drew himself further from the water's edge.

There had been nowhere else to go and no one he could turn to and so, with all his money stolen, all his resources spent and all his energy drained, he had slept where he had hauled himself up out of the lagoon, on the stone beneath one of the wharves. It lay just out of the reach of high tide, but it was neither comfortable nor warm, nor was it clean. He had not been the first to use it as shelter and the remains of bottles and the detritus of drug use lay scattered about and abused. They made for poor bedfellows.

At first, he didn't want to move, despite the cold. The city lay just beyond his shelter and he wanted nothing to do with it. All that had happened the day before, from Au Tahuna's cryptic messages to being robbed at knife point and all the craziness intertwined with that, not to mention the tragedy that had brought him here - it was all too much. He longed for his village, for the steep underwater cliffs and the fields of purple shells in which he had spent his days. He knew that he couldn't go back to any of that now, but inertia seemed better than taking action. He could just let it all stop.

It was hunger that drew him out, just as the sun was rising. He saw one of the fish dropping nearby from an overfilled basket and, instinctively, he lunged for it, emerging from beneath the wharf like some monster of the deep to dive after the dead fish and haul it up victorious. It didn't matter that he had no means to cook it. Anything was better than starvation, apparently, even bearing the weight of the day.

But it was not to be. No sooner was he out of the water with his prize in his hand, than the crew of the boat from which the basket had just been unloaded were baying for his blood. They might've been clumsy with their catch, but they were certainly not willing to let anyone else enjoy it. He swam for the shore and clambered onto the cobbled street before they could reach him, then bolted up into the wretched maze of alleyways leading up the hill. Only when he was sure he could no longer hear them following did he find a corner in which to pick at his breakfast. He knew enough about seafood to know which bits could safely be eaten raw, but, unfortunately, that didn't amount to much and he was still hungry when he left the gutted remains behind to wander up the hill once more, the heat of the sun beginning to warm his back.