[All at once, the eyes disappear. They don't flicker out or vanish, no. They leave, as if veering off course from where they are, suddenly. And the thing, the creature, whatever it is, is gone.
It's gone, at least, until there's a sound of roaring, ripping water, and a claw bursts through the water and into their tunnel behind them. It reaches, stretching, coming closer. It's big enough to blot out the sun. To engulf life itself. Their little boat is nothing.
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It's gone, at least, until there's a sound of roaring, ripping water, and a claw bursts through the water and into their tunnel behind them. It reaches, stretching, coming closer. It's big enough to blot out the sun. To engulf life itself. Their little boat is nothing.
Their little boat is a splinter.]