Two great white sharks were prowling in the huge deep blue ocean, their muscular shapes gliding through the water with a sinister grace. The bigger of the two sharks, a gigantic being with battle scars engraved into his rough skin, cast a glance at his smaller offspring, a shark that was anxious to learn the ways of the world.

The roar of the father shark, “Follow me, son,” echoed through the sea like distant thunder. You have something to learn, she said.

As he swam beside his father, the son’s eyes twinkled with curiosity as he considered the lesson that lay ahead.

“Over there, you see?” the father said. Those are shipwreck survivors. Watch and learn right now.

They gently approached the group of passengers floating in the sea with their heads bobbing amid the wreckage of their tragic ship with a flick of their muscular tails.

We swim a few times around them while only exposing the tip of our fins at first, the father said.

The son, following his father’s example, deftly circled the survivors, their presence a quiet yet disturbing presence as the tips of their fins sliced through the water’s surface.

“Well done, son,” the father said. We now swim several times around them while displaying all of our fins.

They circled once more in a smooth show of coordinated movement, this time revealing their full, menacing forms, their enormous dorsal fins slicing through the water like a pair of menacing swords.

We devour everyone now, the father declared, his eyes sparkling with savage desire.

They attacked the defenseless survivors without pausing, their mouths stuffed with rows of razor-sharp fangs as their instincts returned to their most basic forms. The two sharks quickly turned the water into a commotion of splashes and cries as they devoured their poor prey.

The son looked to his father with curiosity still blazing in his eyes after they had both consumed their fill and the last of the survivors had disappeared into the depths. Why didn’t we simply eat them all at first, Dad? Why did we keep swimming past them?

His wise father chuckled in answer, despite having a full stomach from the meal. Because, he said, “if you scare the shit out of them first, they taste better!”

The son thus gained important knowledge that day in the unfathomable depths of the ocean, learning not only about survival but also about the complex dance between the predator and the prey, where fear and anticipation gave the hunt a mouthwatering flavor. He would remember that as he continued to explore the limitless realm beneath the waters.