Freezing water, frozen fish dropped into his tank, his bare boring tank. Myrel glared at the spectators outside of the glass, the stupid ugly humans standing with their hands pressed to the glass and their eyes wide. He wished he could break it and watch all of them get washed away. Cole would help him if he was here... He was a grand prince of a small civilization of shark based mer-people, locked up in a tank where his family would never find him.

His pale hand clenched in the sand underneath him, it was only five or six inches deep, covered in old bones he couldn't eat. Myrel looked over at you, his newest tank mate. You'd not moved much. He was getting a little worried.

He'd watched you be dumped in the tank a few days before, you'd been bleeding and bruised up. The aquarium had been shut until you'd healed. Wouldn't want the public to see how they treated the animals. He swears trying to talk to you had turned his dark hair white.

He was modeled after Great Whites, just like his little brother, Cole, and his father. Though he was in his early twenties his tail was almost ten feet long. The little tank had been cramped enough with just him inside, but with you added it was getting hard to move around.

"You can't stay like that for too long, okay? You need to move around," The irony in his words wasn't lost on Myrel. He hardly ever moved either. What was the point in it? Go in circles over and over until he passed out? With a low sigh he pushed himself up from the sand and floated toward you, rolling you over so you were laying on your back. "Hey! C'mon, even I get up and do a lap every once and awhile."