As the pair nearest him began to swell anew, filling their bodies with the air they utilized to propel the thousands of spines that covered their bodies, he spun and dived for the watery gap that concealed his friends. Landing with an awkward splash, he tore a pair of reeds off at the waterline, took a deep breath, and ducked under the surface. Behind him, an irregular black splotch appeared on the log on which he had been standing. It had been comprehensively needled. The black hole spread rapidly, eating its way into the thick bole. When it reached the heartwood, it spread explosively. By the time the mokusinga had arrived at the spot where the three travelers were submerged, the tree behind them was dead from crown to roots, eaten away from the inside out by the caustic liquid contained within the forcefully flung spines.
Peering up through the dim water while continuously wiping swirling organic debris from his eyes, Hasa could just make out the ominous hovering shapes of the mokusinga. Exhibiting a menacing awareness, the threatening spheres showed no inclination to move from where they had paused. Next to him, Jemunu-jah was gesturing with one hand while securing his breathing reed with the other. Hasa could only shake his head in response. He had no idea what the Sakuntala was trying to tell him. And it was hard work trying to suck enough air down through the thin reed to keep his lungs going.
How long would the mokusinga linger overhead? he found himself wondering. How hungry were they? Were they clever enough to make the connection between their submerged prey and the couple of reeds and one trunk that poked above the surface? If so, what could they do about it? Could their air-propelled spines be driven with enough thrust to skewer quarry hiding in the water?