The battlefield will be green with seaweed when it is ready. We have grown it since the first disturbances, and we have perfected the art of hiding in it.
Schools of soldiers glide through the plants in their new armour. Striped fins and scales let them seem like shadows, but these shadows bite.
We shall see who is blue when all is said and done. Even if they win the first round we will still be there, and if they learn to see through our camouflage, we will make new disguises.
They seem very optimistic about catching us with their bare hands, but we shall see.
We are experts in bursting bubbles.
A Bolg? 
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