And the ocean reaps their wares all the same. It partakes of their food, their iron, and their bones... scattered to their brethren still hiding so deep that the ocean is no longer blue, but deep, all-consuming black.

The leviathan's chin comes to rest on the back of a speckled, webbed hand. Tips of clawed fingers so dark they would obscure any sort of filth that could be trapped beneath his nailbeds. His lips pull into a slightly wider smile, his fangs more akin to needles than anything resembling teeth. "And?"