THE LITTLE SEAHORSE snuffled through the algae with its long snout, looking for more food. It spotted some plankton, just a bit further from where it was. It loosened its deathly grip on the maroon coral just a tad bit, beating its fins to propel itself forward. So close-

A sudden rush ripped it away from the coral, the current whooshing past it, around it, making the tiny thing spin around. Would it die like this? Like so many others of its kind, left in the middle of the ocean, far from any kind of anchor, and unable to swim away if a predator came upon it.

Was this the end?

Apparently not, for the seahorse happened to angle itself in a different way, and was thrown out of the current, tumbling head over tail until it drifted to a stop, floating in the great expanse of dull turquoise.

What was that, floating so close? A smooth, light colored coral with a strange, blurry projection at either end. The seahorse could hold onto the tiny piece of coral, couldn't it? Before it got blown away by another current, latching on to the strange, floating coral would be wise.

The little seahorse noticed another, more familiar coral, like the ones it had clung on to in the past. And yet . . . the seahorse had always been a bit more adventurous than others of its kind. That trait had caused it some trouble, especially when certain sea turtles came around, but the seahorse had made it out of every mess.

Surely, this wasn't that dangerous.

The seahorse beat his fins rapidly, moving forward at an achingly slow pace. But it eventually reached the smooth coral, and wrapped its tail around the slick surface.

It felt strange. Not as solid or dependable as regular corals. It was slippery as well, so the seahorse had to hold on tight. One of the seahorse's fins touched the end of the thing. It was soft, something the seahorse had never felt before. How odd.

Perhaps the regular crimson coral below would be a better choice. Yes, it would be best to leave this strange thing.

But then, water streamed past it again, hard and quick, and the seahorse's grip on the strange object tightened on instinct, causing both animal and thing to shoot away in the rush of water and bubbles, tossing and swirling in an odd, captivating dance, not unlike that which adult seahorses performed while mating.

This time, the little seahorse wasn't so lucky.

The rippling current swept it far, far away. And the little seahorse? It never made it out.

Just another, insignificant life lost, just one of the thousands that never survived. Right?