The large Shelker happily dug its crab-like legs into the sand, while the warmth of the beach soaked into its metal frame. It shuddered and whirred in a display of joy.
There is no logical reason that you or I can understand for why this particular Shelker enjoyed this activity. Perhaps years of work warranted a resting pattern, or it could have been a behaviour it picked up from an organic lifeform. Regardless, this harmless habit did not impede the rest of the colony.
A dozen other Shelkers scurried along the pristine coastline as the clear ocean water shimmered in the midday sun. Our semi-buried mechoform immediately popped up at the sight of its peers, and it raised two front claws in celebration of what was to come.
A migration. The colony still needed to determine which direction to head, and this group had formed what could best be described as a traditional competition. The member who climbed to the top of the tallest rock would get to lead the migration.
Our sand-loving friend had never experienced what it was like to win. Its larger frame made such a contest particularly unfair, but it had always persisted, unfazed, in their previous attempts. Today would be no different. From what it could determine, the nearby stone carvings would be the location for the game.
It was not alone in this deduction. The more spirited competitors had arrived at the tilted pillar and scrambled to find a way up the smooth surface. The temptation of the sand’s warmth lured the big one to lay back down. It decided to wait and watch.
There was plenty of buzzing and clicking as the number of Shelkers grew. Soon their numbers had grown enough to climb on top of one another. The early Shelkers whirred in annoyance and desperately tried to hold down the ones above who were using them as stepping stones.
It took an hour before the large Shelker saw its chance. It unburied itself once more and slowly walked over to the mountain of its peers. Taking one careful step at a time, it climbed higher and higher until it stood unchallenged at the peak of the stone. The mechoform had been watching and waiting for the moment when the rest of the colony would be too exhausted from wrestling.
It was a perfect day - first, basking in the warm sands and then winning the migration contest. The victorious Shelker hopped off the stone with excitement, committing this moment to memory.
It raised a claw and pointed toward the setting sun, determined to follow the ball that warms. The colony all whirred in acknowledgement and began their long journey up the coast, following their new leader.