I went down to the beach today to watch the wildlife get along. When the females came to the shoreline, they ended what remained of an hour-long session of mid-water wading for the pack of males. Having spotted the two females at waters edge, their heads were pulled from discussion and cocked backward toward the sand. It wasn’t long before their limbs followed suit and they immediately made for shore, one at a time, dousing themselves in playful acts of subterfuge as they inched toward their fixation.

“Dare ga!?” one of the younger males screamed as an unknown hand grabbed his foot from beneath the water. Once ashore, the pack of eight males congregated in a circle close to the two females, making sure to remain completely engage with each other by appearing to focus on some non-existent task. After some deliberation, a scout was sent out to “gather seaweed” from a location on the beach positioned no more than 2 feet away from the females. While the scout took his time gathering nothing of importance, the pack began aimlessly digging in the sand at the edge of the water’s foaming point.

The females reacted with disinterest, remaining aloof as the pack watched them playfully throw one another into the water. For the next 15 minutes, the young females acted out several role-playing scenarios of victim and savior under the blaze of the midday sun. After cooling off adequately, they exited the water and began to walk alongside the beach just west of the males.

As the females wandered just beyond the visual the grasp of the males, their backs turned toward the pack, one of the males stood up to face them. With his mouth wide open and the weight of his torso bent at the hip, he stood there lost in a trace, pining in silence while the rest of pack kept on digging.