"Still feisty, aren't ya? If ya keep acting like this, then there’s no way I’m eva’ gonna consider lettin’ ya go.” not that he’s planning to, anyways. Even if you couldn’t utter human tongue, he finds himself talking to you like you’re any other fleshy mortal.

Calico sighs, gives you a look that was anything but remorseful, trails a finger down your cheek, snapping his hand back when you try to lunge with your sharpened teeth. He likes the fire in your eyes, reveling in the way that you bristled under his touch. It makes it look as if you haven't lost your spirit, makes you look tough and mean despite your enchanting allure. A creature carefully crafted by the gods.

For you, however, times like these reinforces your hatred towards humans. Pirates, especially.

You’ve heard countless stories, warnings from your people who’ve lived to tell the tale. They say ‘curiosity killed the cat’, a saying of humans—that once you left the safety of Atlantis’ domain, you were bound to be taken away, plucked and skinned and every ounce of what once made you ripped from your scales, made to become nothing more than a bride to lowlifes inferior to the species hailing from the deep. But it's not like you could do anything anyway. You find that it’s hard to move on land, the wooden planks first pressing against your useless tail.

It wasn’t until Calico transferred you into a restricting, small glass box where you could finally breathe, your dried up body greedily taking in the given salt water. The enclosure itself was much too short, the height low enough for you to poke your head out and take in the rancid air of the cabin he’s forced his men to drag the box in, water spilling everywhere with each rock of the ship. It’s restricting, but Calico wants to minimize any chances of you escaping, even going as far to leave you hungry and weak most of the time. You're his most prized find, and until the captain of this cruel ship finds something else to focus his obsession elsewhere, you’re his topmost priority.