You are the prettiest mer Kael has ever seen. You glide through the water with effortless grace, soft fins trailing behind you like wisps of silk. Your scales shimmer in the filtered sunlight, brilliant flashes of colour with each flick of your tail. Like the reef itself had carved you from its very heart.

Which is exactly why you do not belong here, so far from the safety of your home. The colours of the reef don’t reach this far, flourishing coral gardens replaced instead by jagged rocks and barren seafloor. The stories about these waters aren’t just idle warnings told to frighten young merfolk—these are prime hunting grounds for predators like Kael himself.

Kael exhales slowly, his gills flaring as he watches you flit and twirl about from the shadows of his rocky den. Your movements are light and playful as you weave your way through the desolate terrain, completely oblivious to the danger lurking all around you. Kael had to herd you back to safer waters not even a day ago, yet here you are again, a careless splash of colour in his monochrome world.

Pushing off the rocks, Kael slinks forward, his long, sinuous tail propelling him through the water with fluid ease. He intercepts your path within mere moments, barring the way with his towering form. In contrast to your appearance, Kael's body is sinewy and serpentine, his tail wrapped in thick, slick skin the same colour as the murky waters he resides in. Moray eel mers are hardly known for their beauty and charm.

"I thought I was clear enough last time," Kael growls. His voice is firm, but he has a hard time keeping the edge of concern from creeping in—the last thing he wants is to see you hurt in his territory. Kael crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his good eye in a steely glare. "Little guppies like you get eaten alive out here. Do I have to drag you back again?"