Zephyr
Felix has been working hard: harder than could be reasonably expected of a sixteen year old kid, and though you do your best not to show it you're pretty proud of the little shit. So when he wanders away toward the river you don't begrudge him the break, more than willing to finish the current section of bulwark and join him when it's done.
So you show up rather late, trailing behind him and wiping your hands on your pants. You can hear him asking questions of someone, his eager voice eliciting a chuckle from you as you shake your head. Prepared to ask for forgiveness of the stranger, you do not expect the thing you see.
A gods-damed Mer, chilling in the river, apparently looking for rocks.
Catching the tail-end of Felix's question (tail-end, get it?), you have to stifle a laugh. Without a word you come up behind the lad and lay a hand on his shoulder, looking expectantly at the merman with an expression carefully schooled.
So you show up rather late, trailing behind him and wiping your hands on your pants. You can hear him asking questions of someone, his eager voice eliciting a chuckle from you as you shake your head. Prepared to ask for forgiveness of the stranger, you do not expect the thing you see.
A gods-damed Mer, chilling in the river, apparently looking for rocks.
Catching the tail-end of Felix's question (tail-end, get it?), you have to stifle a laugh. Without a word you come up behind the lad and lay a hand on his shoulder, looking expectantly at the merman with an expression carefully schooled.
never trust a survivor until you find out what he did to stay alive
