Soap, the Scottish half-shark, had been feeding with Ghost, the British half-orca, the water around the two mermen thick with blood and fish guts. It smelled and looked amazing to the Scottish half-shark, but was still not quite as appealing as the morsel he'd just spotted in the distance, their tail swaying slowly in the water as they sat on the surface of a nearby forest of kelp. Ghost, pulling bones out of his mouth with deadly efficiency, follows Soap's gaze and grunts noncommittally. "It’s too small, MacTavish." Is the orca's only comment, as he makes to dive deeper in search of larger prey. "Leave it -"