When Dragon Food goes full tilt toward his inevitable doom, he begins to see reality differently – a little more the way the intended consumptor sees it, so as to become knowingly distinct, in order to really shine. Since Dragon Food is intended for Dragons, that’s incredibly different every time. He’ll see things more like the way of the Dragon that he wants to eat him – but this other thing also happens where the forces of nature at work between the two of them become symbolized in his awareness, so that he understands how to use them in order to ideally entice this Dragon. That part is also never the same. It thrills him to the core of his existence, not actually knowing what’s going to happen, and wanting it to happen.

He’s always been exhaled eventually, after a unique and bizarre micro-eternity, discovering that he is himself again outside the Dragon. He’s always known, though, that any time might be his last. Still, it was everything.

There was music all around. The music was important – he could tell because he was able to see it now, here in the waterspace. He knew it hadn’t been visible before, so this was one of those things. The music was traveling towards a strange attractor in smooth spirals. That strange attractor was occurring around the two Dragons – the one Acamar, which he, as Dragon Food, could see perfectly well now, and the enigma twin.

The musical vibrations looked tangible enough, to Dragon Food’s current embodiment. He grabbed on, and the music took him through the edge of the torrential slip field, streaming through a microhole, and out into the unsheltered, unending ocean.

The music and the Dragons were forming along a dimensional membrane that Dragon Food could see between depths of worlds on either side. Were they eating the music, becoming the music, speaking the music? Were the Dragons the part of the music that connected the sound from one world to another? They were the same, but they were not the same.