Tilly stood at the water's edge. Her flippers pressed into cool, damp sand. The ocean stretched far, far out.
She took one small step forward. A tiny wave tickled her toes. 'It's so big,' she whispered.
Tilly tried again — one flipper in, one flipper out. The water moved around her legs, cool and gentle. She looked down at her tiny footprints.
Another wave came, bigger this time. It whooshed over her shell with a sandy rattle. She didn't run.
Instead, she waddled forward. Step by slow step, she walked into the sea.
Her feet touched nothing but sand below. She kicked once, twice — then floated.
The waves carried her gently. She swam toward the horizon, flippers moving in a slow graceful rhythm.
The ocean was big, but she was swimming anyway. The horizon waited for her.
