He walked down the beach and waded into the surf, fighting the waves until he was armpit-deep. It was dusk, just enough light for him to see, but not enough to keep his visitors away.
He began to feel the tendrils around his ankles. While they made their way up his body he spoke a greeting and blessing in the old language. After a moment they gripped him solidly, and he felt them in his mind.
Much had changed. In the old days, this would have been a sacrifice; now it was a conversation. He hoped they would be satisfied.