Fancy’s life after she developed into an adult and fell out of the water column into the privileged scene of reef dwelling sponge eaters frequently disappointed her. While grazing with the fish she settled with Fancy would listen to such remarks as “This sponge’s toxin is too bland” with quiet disdain. She wondered how they could have forgotten the terrifying thrill of life in the pelagic, where the line between life, death, and diet was a matter of if something was small enough to eat, or if you were small enough to be eaten. She once brought this up with a friend of hers, but their only advice was to stop living in the past like some benthic crustacean and get ready for the spawning season.
Bored with her life in the circles of upper-reef society, Fancy took up with the first Jack she met coming in on the current one day and hightailed it back to the slim pickings life of the pelagic. Some of the friends she left behind often wondered about the tales that circulated from incoming turtles off of the currents about a fool hardy, but pleasantly unhinged reef fish cruising the rough and tumble waters of the open ocean. Most of them, however, claimed these tails to be exemplary of the things one hears from “those kinds of marine organisms” and insisted that Fancy had simply been eaten by a shark.