He nodded contented affirmation of Deepfrost being a good season for cocoa. It had warmed him from the inside out in chilly waters, though he was well-suited to the cold waters of the Arclight's depths.
But there was finally an end to his battle with whatever was on the end of his line. He listened with half an ear as the human extolled the flexibility of boozy cocoa and all its different flavors. The mermanta would have liked to have paid this information the attention it deserved, but now the water beneath his line formed a wake and there was no more teasing or easing of the wheel. He tugged sharply, once, and his prey finally broke free of the sea--
An old boot, indeed, the leather black and cracked with water damage and crusted in salt and sand.
But wrapped around that boot and looking particularly annoyed for a creature with no eyebrows was an octopus that curled its tentacles stubbornly tighter around the waterlogged footwear. It's body was the size of Hadama's head; it's tentacles almost as long as his arms, and the rod was bowed dangerously under the weight as the merman eyed the creature with bemusement.
"Ah."
After a moment's contemplation he reached out to disengage the hook from the boot's slimy leather, ignoring the tentacle that immediately wrapped around his wrist in protest. It was a battle of wills and Hadama grunted softly as he wrestled with unruly octopus and stubbornly-jammed hook, careful not to hurt the creature. "I did not... -hrm- ... catch your name," he called to the barmaid while the epic struggle took place.
But there was finally an end to his battle with whatever was on the end of his line. He listened with half an ear as the human extolled the flexibility of boozy cocoa and all its different flavors. The mermanta would have liked to have paid this information the attention it deserved, but now the water beneath his line formed a wake and there was no more teasing or easing of the wheel. He tugged sharply, once, and his prey finally broke free of the sea--
An old boot, indeed, the leather black and cracked with water damage and crusted in salt and sand.
But wrapped around that boot and looking particularly annoyed for a creature with no eyebrows was an octopus that curled its tentacles stubbornly tighter around the waterlogged footwear. It's body was the size of Hadama's head; it's tentacles almost as long as his arms, and the rod was bowed dangerously under the weight as the merman eyed the creature with bemusement.
"Ah."
After a moment's contemplation he reached out to disengage the hook from the boot's slimy leather, ignoring the tentacle that immediately wrapped around his wrist in protest. It was a battle of wills and Hadama grunted softly as he wrestled with unruly octopus and stubbornly-jammed hook, careful not to hurt the creature. "I did not... -hrm- ... catch your name," he called to the barmaid while the epic struggle took place.
