High in the night sky, the moon finally shed her cloud cover and began to illuminate the diaphanous fog. The pale sheen of weak light struggled to penetrate into the watery darkness below.

Is it enough? they thought.

The conflict raged. Some pressed for release. Others urged caution. All along, the hunger grew.

No. The time is not right. We do not come out at night.

Above, shuffling footsteps echoed through the darkness, off the mossy stones, to the depths. Once confident, they began to move slower and slower. Below, they could hear haggard breathing growing louder and louder.

It comes!

The footsteps stopped and the night held its breath.

A water-gatherer!

Excitement rippled through the colony.

Now! Now?

Hesitation.

Indecision. Indecision. Uncertainty ruled. Hunger insisted. Then, for the briefest of moments the fog broke and the inside of the well was illuminated. A feeling of triumph surged through their shared minds!

The moon is bright. Night flees before us!

We go!