Arien could not help but sympathize with the lagiacrus who had been thoroughly entangled in the culling net, and was writhing dementedly along a swathe of the beach. The creature could not figure out that the more it struggled the tighter the dragonite fibres of the netting closed along it's body, and that it would eventually suffocate to it's own defiance. The brilliant green netting cut into it's lustrous blue plates, which were turning pink from exposure to the sun, it was as if the poor animal was being cooked alive. Around Arien are eight other cullers, they are clad in slippery blue wet suits, the likes of which he is also wearing. They hold their mettallic gray spears at length from their body, a gesture of fear, as if the beached lagiacrus could harm them in any way. They were only