Seeming almost delighted to have a willing listener, yet at the same time miserable as ever and possibly afraid of being harmed, it sits down, right in front of Ancalagon and begins to speak.<br/><br/>"My kind suffer the worst of hardships, and every year, things only ever get worse. The world is in a constant spiral towards destruction and nothingness, it all comes to an end soon enough. Oh yes, the world is a dark, sorrowful place, all we have to look forward to is destruction. My life began when I hatched, freed from the soft egg of safety, feeling the burning water, lacking in salt, not enough pressure even. It was a terrible place, filled with despair. Every living moment was filled with agony. Though aquatic, we pull ourselves to the surface simply because it is less painful, but the effect it has on our skin is still bad. With every generation we become more sickly, and the lifespans shorter, so I know I haven't much time remaining in the world.<br/><br/>We must always awaken hours before the light hits the water, and begin a full day of work, eating nothing other than what vermin we can catch. More often than not the food tries to eat us in return, sometimes it even wins. We would work fifteen hour days, toiling for nothing other than the ability to survive, the whips urging us on, and when one died, they would merely be torn apart.<br/><br/>The aboleths know where all of us live, you know. Every single society of ours is known to them, and the only reason we still exist is laziness on their part. All we have to look forward to is the awakening of the Great Evils, when we have fed them enough of our own suffering, finally the world may end, and we can at least watch all else die before the last of us is also destroyed. Consider that being the best possible outcome you could possibly look forward to."<br/><br/>It stops and starts coughing and wheezing, and Ancalagon feels a bit melancholic. However, he resists the full sadness that seems to naturally emanate from the pathetic creature, at least.