Mirelurks make up the bulk of any hive, foraging for meat and protecting hatchlings and the queen. They spend much of their time buried in the muck and mire, both motionless sentinels and patient hunters; a toughened carapace jutting from the sand the only warning of danger. For many the emerging claws and chittering barbles are the last thing they will ever see – a moment’s frenzied violence, before the shoreline returns to its seemingly tranquil quiet.